My friend Kevin was sitting in his wheelchair in the rain. His knees were exposed through ripped pants, revealing a sprawling expanse of open infected wounds. I was putting the signs out for our Community Dinner and gently asked him if he was ok. His shoes and socks were off, and he was surrounded by the contents of his backpack that he had been trying to organize. I asked if he wanted me to call an ambulance and told him that I was worried about his wounds. “I am fine. It looks worse than it is.” I reminded him that dinner was going to start. “Something is wrong with my brain. I can never remember what day it is.” I came out to check on him ten minutes later. Someone had given him a coat. I asked him if he wanted to come inside or if he wanted me to bring him a meal. The ability to have a choice is empowering and taken for granted by most of us. I brought him a hot meal and went back inside to the dinner.

The dinner was extra busy with lots of people staying to chat and eat together. I stood in the middle of the room and read the story of Jesus being baptized. In the story, the voice of God declares from the heavens that Jesus is “his Son, the Beloved, with whom he is well pleased (Matthew 3:17).” I tell the room that even Jesus needs to be reminded of his true identity. That like all of us, he will face struggles that will challenge his understanding of himself and who he is in God. Before I pray, I encourage all of us to reflect on the question, “What if God says we are his beloved and that he is well pleased with us? What if we all need to be reminded of our inheritance and identity as children of a loving God?” The look on everyone’s face as they contemplated the possibility that God loved them and was pleased with them was like seeing God’s Spirit descend like a dove from an open heaven.

At the end of the night, I went to get the signs. Kevin had moved toward the front door. He asked if he could have another meal. I brought him the last two dinners. He thanked me for the good food and wheeled himself up the block declaring, “Thank you, I feel so much better!”

Michael Cox