Jesus says, I was in the least of these

In 1897, H.G. Wells wrote the novel The Invisible Man—the story of how an intriguing possibility became an unexpected, rude, and cursed reality: invisibility. The main character, Mr. Griffen, discovers the disadvantages of invisibility when he first ventures out in public, invisible.

Wells writes: “The invisible man had stepped into the street and was considering all the pranks he could pull, then someone stepped on his foot, then he was almost run over by a cab, then the Salvation Army parade began filling the street and he had to flee up a porch: ‘On came the band, bawling with unconscious irony some hymn about When Shall We See His Face.’

“The more I thought it over...the more I realized what a helpless absurdity an invisible man was—I had become a wrapped-up mystery, a swathed and bandaged caricature of a man!’”

Human beings can become caricatures of human beings—can be reduced to less-than-human when they become invisible. Where are the homeless among us? Invisible. The aged? Invisible. The 150,000 in Texas prisons? Invisible. The very poor? Invisible.

A college professor tells of a familiar sight around the campus—The Duck Woman. She was always sadly dressed, carrying things, probably all she owned, or had accumulated during the day. She never spoke: just a cartoonish, “Quack! Quack!”

One morning, the professor was standing at a student crosswalk—the DO NOT WALK sign flashing. Then, there was The Duck Woman moving closer and closer. The professor became more nervous and self-conscious. Then, she stopped at his shoulder, looked up; and, in all sanity, said, “It’s a beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day.”

Suddenly, that which was humanity had become visible! Then the light changed to WALK. She looked forward, stepped off the curb, and began walking—“Quack.” And she disappeared in the crowd of students, and became invisible once more. Of an ostracized woman, Jesus once asked Peter, “Do you see this woman?”

There can be invisible Christians. A member of the church I was raised in was an inactive member. His son was a good friend. I was often in his home and we would sit at the kitchen table. Always the father would criticize the church.

One afternoon, my friend and I were at the place where his father played dominoes. He told us of a woman who had just come by begging because, she said, the churches she had approached were out of money. Again the father began to berate the church.

Someone near-by commented: “Perhaps if more of the churches’ members attended church, and were sharing Christians, the churches would not have been out of funds.” Invisible Christians.

Finally, there is the invisible God. No other religion beyond Judaism and Christianity has a more invisible God. “No one has ever seen God,” wrote John. In the Gospel’s metaphor of The Great Judgment, Christ says, “I was hungry...thirsty...a stranger...naked...and in prison.”

Those before the judgment seat ask, “Lord, when was it that we saw you?” And Jesus says, I was in the least of these. If we have not seen Christ in the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the poor, the prisoner, we have not seen God!

Jonathan Swift once wrote: “Vision is the art of seeing things invisible.” God grant us the desire for that vision—to see that Christ, in the guise of so many around us, “is the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1). And by this grace, may those who profess God take on substance, and become manifest.