Jesus with skin on

I've been thinking more about grace and what it really means for our lives today. And I can't help but think about my recent trip to Brazil with DBU's cross-country/track team. We stayed in Sao Paulo for a week and worked with an organization called Mission Cena. The picture above is our team and some of the people we worked with.

Cena is a unique place in the heart of a very broken city. They mainly serve the homeless, drug addicts, prostitutes, and transvestites close to the part of town known as "crackland." Dirty streets are literally lined with people night and day smoking crack, digging through the trash, and waiting for life to pass by. Children and dogs run amidst the crowds and many are already being sucked into the drug scene. It's a picture of utter hopelessness and helplessness. A sore spot in the midst of a country with decadent beauty. Yet there is hope, and it's often shown through a group of crazy servants at the Casa Amarilla - the "yellow house."

This is Joao. Or John, as we all called him.

Joao took me to change money on one of the first days we were in Sao Paulo. With his limited English and my even lesser knowledge of Portuguese we tried to converse along the way as he pointed out things of interest. He was kind, energetic, and had the attention span of a goldfish. As we walked, every few blocks I was struck by something odd. Joao would stop and talk to almost every homeless person we passed. Heavily sprinkled throughout the city, people sat on street corners, slept in store fronts, and hid from gawkers and passersby under wool blankets. They were your typical homeless person. Dirty, smelly, unkempt. But Joao looked past all that and saw a person of worth. He touched them. Hugged many of them and even kissed their head. He talked to them as though they were his friends. And they respected him. To me, Joao was a picture of what it truly meant to be the hands and feet of Jesus. He got it. He didn't just talk about loving homeless people. He did it. And he did it well. He gave them their dignity. He treated them with value. I was moved.

Grace. It's not something that only the wealthy deserve. It's not something only Christians receive. It's not even something you only have if you're famous or attractive, or talented, or whatever. It's a free gift given to every human who ever drew breath by the Author of life itself. And He gave it out of unconditional love, not obligation. You see, I'm still struck by how very similar I am to the homeless men and women on the streets of Sao Paulo. I've made mistakes. I'm unclean. I'm often times a mess. But Jesus reached down from heaven and chose to love me just the way I am - because He wanted to. It's part of His plan. And we're called to do the same. I saw a lot of things in Brazil that week, but Joao's actions are seared in my mind. I find myself wondering, how do I treat people who are thought of as "lesser?" Do I really get what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ? Do I give people their dignity? Oh God, help me to be that. And thank you Joao, for your example of loving obedience.

I'm a recipient of the same grace and mercy He extends to the drug addict and transvestite. I'm no better simply because I'm American or draw a salary. It's grace. Pure and simple. And I want my life to be ruined by it.
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