I walked on by.
I could have reached inside my pocket. I could have pulled out some change: a small bill, a penny—but I didn’t. I just walked on by.
Like everyone else.
Through the underground tunnel, under the busy Beijing street we strolled. A blind man played an Erhu—a cross between a guitar and viola—while his son slept at his feet. His wife laid on her side across from him on a blanket. Beggars.
Farther down, a little child laid across the lap of her mama, who sat silently, hands outstretched.
I walked on by.
Maryellen, a compassionate team member, pulled out her purse and a sum to give to the poor woman—just like she did with the blind man.
Conscience stricken, I asked what prompted her to give. Expecting a Bible verse, instead she graciously said something quite unexpected, “Do something! Do something! Do something!”
Maryellen did not intend for this statement to be a rebuke to me, she was just reponding to the promptings of her Lord, the promptings I chose to ignore.
But it was a rebuke nonetheless… a rebuke from the Lord. The phrase, “Do something! Do something! Do something!” is a quote from Charles Spurgeon, and is the signature at the bottom of all my emails; I ignored its exhortation.
We went through the tunnel again the following week. This time I put some special cash in my pockets. A sum reserved for the least of these.
A sum reserved for Jesus.
Jessica