For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. — Matthew 25:35.
As the season of Advent unfolds, it invites us into a space of paradox. We surround ourselves with the warmth of lights, the abundance of shared meals, and the anticipation of joy. Yet, this season also calls us to a quiet, necessary turning of the mind. It asks us to look away from the festive glow and into the shadows where so many of our neighbors reside—those for whom “abundance” is a foreign word and “security” is a distant dream.
There is a staggering duality in our current landscape. On one hand, we see the tireless, beautiful machinery of compassion: organizations and volunteers who labor every day to provide bread and a roof to those who have neither. On the other hand, we face the heartbreaking reality that in a nation of such immense wealth, so many still walk the streets with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
But food and shelter are only the foundation. To truly honor the dignity of the human spirit, we must expand our vision of “daily bread.” A compassionate society should not only offer a meal for the night, but also the rungs of a ladder to climb: meaningful work that provides purpose, reliable childcare that supports the family, and healthcare that ensures no one is punished for the fragility of their own body.
It is easy, and perhaps a defense mechanism for our own comfort, to point toward those who might abuse charity. But when we look into the eyes of those at a soup kitchen or those seeking warmth in a doorway, we do not see “system abusers.” We see brothers and sisters caught in a cycle of poverty that acts more like a cage than a choice. Most people do not want a handout; they want a way out.
Advent is a season of preparation—not just for a holiday, but for a better world. It is a time to ask ourselves: What is the proper role of a society built on the values of love and service? Perhaps it is time to shift our aim. Instead of pouring our greatest resources into the engines of conflict—the warplanes and weapons of destruction—we should target our common, most ancient enemies: poverty, illness, and the isolation of mental health struggles.
If Advent is the time when people of faith come together to serve their neighbors, then let it also be the spark that ignites a broader social contract. Let us stop blaming those who have little, for the cracks in our foundation. Instead, let us build a society that views the “basic subsidy” of human life as a sacred right.
In this season of waiting and hope, let us choose to be the welcome for the stranger and the food for the hungry—not just through individual acts of kindness, but through a collective commitment to leave no one behind in the cold.
A great to do all these things is to get personally involved in a strong rescue mission. I did that, starting in 2010. In 2011 and ending in 2016, I coached people in the rescue mission to run half-marathons. The success rate of the entire mission grew from 32% to 68%. The participants loved having a normal person to interact with. Whatever you have in your hands, God can use.
Terrific Cousin!