I returned home from Kolkata yesterday after two long flights on Emirates Airlines. No matter what route you take to or from Kolkata, it’s a long trip — one that I’ve made several times. As usual, I not only had time to try to sleep a bit on the flight home, I also had lots of time to think and reflect on my most recent visit to the City of Joy. Part way into the trip home, I had a nice conversation with two of the flight attendants. One was from Nairobi and the other from, of all places, Kolkata! Needless to say, I had a long conversation with the young lady from Kolkata and learned new things about some of the older parts of the city. She smiled and nodded in agreement when I said that there is nothing boring about Kolkata. Whether you are a resident or a visitor, Kolkata offers a kaleidoscope of constantly changing scenes that will sadden and amuse you or that will provoke you to anger or action. The bottom line is that it is nearly impossible to be passive in Kolkata.

My life in Katy, Texas is so different from life in Kolkata. Suburban life is designed to protect our privacy, maximize our security, and in a way, isolate us from others. We can manage our exposure to other people in the suburbs. I hardly see any of my neighbors during the week. Most of them park their cars in their garage. So, they leave for work or school in the morning and return at the end of the day without ever having to use the front door of their homes. Our boulevards are clean and pleasant and the only time we see a homeless person is when we are closer to the interstate highway that bisects our community. And even then, we don’t have to interact with the folks holding their cardboard résumé that tell us they are homeless and hungry. We essentially live day in and day out with few things that challenge us to think deeply about our faith and its application. Not so in a place like Kolkata.

A typical Kolkata sidewalk.

One of the reasons I love Kolkata is that it puts me in direct contact with humanity. Like most people in the city, I have to depend on public transportation that forces me to get over any notions of personal space. Whether I board a bus or a trolley or get into a cab or climb into a rickshaw, I am face to face or shoulder to shoulder with others. And then there are the multitudes of beggars with filthy hands and longing eyes — mostly little children, women, or the elderly. It is absolutely impossible to avoid them. I also do a lot of walking from place to place while in Kolkata and get to see life on the streets in slower motion. No matter how you get around in Kolkata, you can’t avoid the people and you can’t avoid having to think about them and their spiritual and physical condition and how to live out your faith among them.

Traveling to places like Kolkata has challenged me to become more intentional about developing peripheral compassion in my own community. You develop peripheral compassion by slowing down a bit, taking the time to look to the right and to the left, looking for clues that lead you to discover need, noticing and talking to the people you encounter every day (including those behind the cash registers of the places where you eat and shop), and thinking deeply about how God can use you to develop relationships that will open doors to share your faith with others. We must look for ways to maximize our exposure to humanity in the places where we live. We must learn to feel the pulse and listen to the heartbeat of our community. Just because human needs and suffering are not as obvious here does not mean that they do not exist.

I recently read a story about a rich man from Holland who asked Mother Teresa if he should give up his big home and his big car. Mother Teresa replied, “No. But what I want you to do is to go back and see more of the lonely people who live in Holland. Then, every now and then I want you to bring a few of them at a time and entertain them. Bring them in that car of yours and let them enjoy a few hours in your beautiful house. Then your house will become a center of love — full of light, full of joy, full of life.” (from “Reaching Out in Love: Stories Told by Mother Teresa,” pages 151-152). That’s great advice for those of us blessed and privileged to live in comfortable and safe places. Purpose to make your home a center of love where God’s name will be glorified and made famous throughout this new year and beyond.

I am back in Kolkata on this first day of the New Year. I have said before that I feel strangely at home in this city of teeming masses. I first visited Kolkata three years ago to serve the least of these at Mother Teresa’s homes. I think that is when it happened and why it happened that I feel drawn to return here. I feel connected to those I have served at Mother Teresa’s homes. Every time I return I am anxious to see them again. Jesus said, “For the poor you always have with you…” (John 12:8). When I read those words I often think that Jesus must have been thinking of Kolkata because it seems the poor have all gathered here. This city is over-saturated with people who live and die on the streets. And this is the city where Mother Teresa unwittingly captured the imagination and respect of the world because of her service to the poor.

Mother Teresa made a difference in the lives of the poor because she made herself totally available to God. It’s amazing what God can accomplish through those whose heart is completely His. Reading several books about the life of Mother Teresa got me interested in learning more about Pope John Paul II, one of the most universally respected leaders in the history of the Catholic Church. Although I am not a Catholic, I was fascinated by the life of this pope. While reading about him I came across the words “Totus Tuus” — a Latin expression that means “totally yours.” Totus Tuus was Pope John Paul II’s apostolic motto, one that he borrowed from a prayer-book by Saint Louis de Montfort. He chose these words to express his devotion to Mary. I do not agree with my Catholic friends about the veneration of Mary, but I do like the expression totus tuus. In its larger context the text that inspired the Pope is this: Totus Tuus ego sum, et omnia mea tua sunt. Accipio te in mea omnia. The translation of these words is, “I belong entirely to you, and all that I have is yours. I take you for my all.”

As I think about the year ahead I have decided to borrow Pope John Paul II’s motto but to apply it to my relationship with Jesus Christ. I am not big on making New Year’s resolutions, but I do like the idea of taking ownership of something that will challenge me to grow in my relationship with Christ in the New Year. I can think of no better challenge than to say to Christ, “I belong entirely to you, and all that I have is yours. I take you for my all.” I have a choice regarding who owns me and who I will serve. I choose to renew my commitment to Christ, to make myself His servant, to live out my faith in practical ways, and to share the life-transforming gospel message with others. And, lest I forget, I am determined to start each day of the New Year by saying to Christ — Totus Tuus.

Happy New Year! Live this year in such a way that if it is your last, then even your dust will praise God and tell the world of His faithfulness (Ps. 30:9).

The past two summers I have been privileged to lead Kingsland’s high school graduates to Kolkata to serve the lowest and most broken segment of humanity. Our students have embraced the privilege of serving the least of these and faced every challenge in doing so with courage. Their experiences have caused them to think a little more deeply about their responsibility to care for those in need — to move beyond pity to practical and measurable acts of compassionate service. Even a brief season of service at Mother Teresa’s homes is enough to leave an indelible mark on the hearts of those who serve. The experience is one that will be remembered for a lifetime. This month’s issue of Katy Magazine features an article by Kingsland member Kelly Isenberger about our recent summer trip to Kolkata entitled Katy Teens Giving Back. I hope you will take a moment to read it and to consider what you can do to serve the least of these in our own community and beyond. I appreciate our teens and their service from Katy to Kolkata. I’m already looking forward to returning to Kolkata with our graduating teens in the Summer of 2012.

Our time in Kolkata comes to an end today. We will head to the airport in a few hours to begin the long journey home. Our suitcases are stuffed with dirty laundry, muddy shoes, and a souvenir or two to remind us of our time of serving the least of these in muggy Kolkata. More importantly, we are returning home with hearts filled with precious memories. While some of these memories may get lost under the accumulated stacks of memories yet to come, they will always be a permanent part of our respective stories. And, through the years to come, we will see or hear things that will send us rushing into the attic of our personal history to rifle through faded stacks until we find that particular memory of something that we experienced here. Then, when we find what we’re looking for, we’ll blow the dust off of the yellowed pages and smile and say to ourselves or someone else, “I remember when I went to Kolkata and …”

In my case, many of my memories live here in Kolkata. Every time I return to the City of Joy I manage to bump into memories who, like old friends, come running out to embrace me and to welcome me back. I find them riding along with me in cabs and rickshaws, reminding me of good times we shared. They follow me through the crowded streets and stand beside me as I serve at familiar places like Mother Teresa’s homes. And when I try to go to bed at night, they often keep me up. In many ways I find security in their company when I am so far away from home. I know that the next time I come I will be reunited with even more memories created during my time here with our great team of students.

Last night we said our goodbyes to six of my friends who joined us here to help with our logistics. It’s always a bittersweet thing to say goodbye, knowing that we have shared a slice of time that can never again be repeated in exactly the same way. God used this combination of us — students and adults and friends — who met in this particular place at this particular time to touch the lives of people we never thought we’d meet — hurting and poor and damaged people who have been blessed by the work of our hands and who blessed us in ways we could never have imagined. We are all returning home a little different than when we arrived here last week. God has used our experiences here to shape us a little more into the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29). I am grateful to have had the privilege to share this brief slice of time with our students and chaperones and friends. And, I look forward to lots of great reunions with the many new memories we made while serving together in the City of Joy.

Every time I volunteer at Mother Teresa’s homes I make it a point to look for familiar faces — men I have cared for on previous visits. Because so many of these men are in frail health, I know that many of them will die before I have an opportunity to visit again. That’s one reason I want to do all that I can to comfort these men while I am here. My biggest wish is that I had the language skills to communicate with them in either Hindi or Bangla. And although a handful of these men speak a little English, most do not and some are so ill that they cannot speak at all. However, all of these men understand the common language of love expressed through a caring touch or a warm smile.

Yesterday afternoon, I watched a frail old man getting ready for bed. This man is among those who has lost the ability to speak. As he sat on the edge of his bed, he folded his trembling and wrinkled hands and began to move his lips in prayer. I could not help but smile as one of our guys walked over to pray with him. After the “Amen” the elderly man looked into the eyes of our volunteer and smiled. I don’t know if this man will still be alive when I visit again, but I am glad for the way in which our team members have taken the initiative to do small things with great love for this man and the others at Prem Dan.

This week, two of the men that we have cared for at Prem Dan died quietly in the night. It was sad to walk past their empty beds where in previous days we had massaged their limbs and helped to feed them. Because of the Missionaries of Charity and the volunteers who come to serve beside them, these men died with dignity. Mother Teresa said that she wanted for “people who lived like animals to die like angels — loved and wanted.” These men, neither of whom could speak, were fortunate that they did not have to die alone on the streets but instead died in a place steeped in love.

Whenever I volunteer at Mother Teresa’s homes I also make it a point to visit with some of the Missionaries of Charity that I have befriended on previous visits. One of my favorite nuns was Sister Olinda, an Indian lady from Darjeeling, who served at Kalighat (home for the dying). She spoke several languages, including Spanish. We always enjoyed sitting and conversing in Spanish about Jesus and about the beauty of serving the poor. I inquired about her yesterday and learned that she died on March 28 at about ten in the morning at Mother’s House. My heart was saddened by this news. In addition to the many languages that she spoke, Sister Olinda was fluent in the language of love, a requirement for caring for the least of these. I will miss her but am grateful for the time we were privileged to spend together serving the least of these at Kalighat.

Today is our last day to serve at Mother Teresa’s homes. Our team will head back to the United States tomorrow. Each of our students and adult sponsors will return home much more fluent in the language of love because of their service here. Thanks for your prayers for our team as we have served the least of these and the oppressed in Kolkata.

I have absolutely enjoyed my time in Kolkata with our high school graduates. Our students have demonstrated a maturity beyond their years as they have compassionately ministered to others. Every evening, we conclude our day with a time of worship and debriefing. This is my favorite time of the day because I get to hear about what our students experienced in their own words. Last night was especially moving as our students prayed for particular individuals they have served this week. A few wept as they prayed. It’s obvious that our students have been deeply moved by all they have seen and experienced here. Afterwards we took a few minutes to share humorous stories about something that has happened this week. Lots of healthy laughter! And finally, we took time to pray for our fellow Kingsland students who are serving in six other locations around the world.

As our students shared their personal stories last night, I thought about one of my favorite Mother Teresa quotes: “I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.” I am proud of our students for allowing God to use them to write a legible message of love through their lives this week. They have communicated a clear message by loving and serving others in the name of Jesus without any conditions and without expecting anything in return. This week they have joyfully served those who possess nothing or who have very little at best. In some cases we have only been able to offer a smile, but as Mother Teresa said, “Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” So, even a smile is not wasted but serves a purpose in the story that God is writing through each of our lives.

When I consider the example of Mother Teresa and her continuing influence long after her death, I am challenged to consider what God is writing through my life. In order for Him to write a clear and legible message through my life I have to yield control of each stroke of the pencil to Him. If I try to wrestle control away from Him then the message becomes garbled and confused. As a young Christ-follower I learned a little poem that expresses the importance of writing a clear message by the way that we live:

You are writing a gospel,
a chapter a day,
by the deeds that you do
and the words that you say.
Others read what you write,
distorted or true,
So, what is the gospel,
according to you?

In order to write a message that others understand, we need to place ourselves in the hands of the Author of love. Only then will we become a letter of recommendation for Christ (2 Cor. 3:2-3). Our students have allowed God to use them to write a message of love on the parchment of service this week. And, the best part is that this message does not require a translator. Anybody can understand it. The poor children we have served, the residents in Mother Teresa’s homes, and the girls in the aftercare have all understood every loving word that God has written with our little pencils. But what about you? Have you placed yourself in the hand of the only one who can write a legible message of love through your life? Allow God, the Author of love, to write a love letter through your life, today.

In my prayer time this morning, I asked the Lord to help me see the world and the people around me a little more clearly. Because I am so accustomed to the sights and sounds of Kolkata, it’s easy for me to look past the things that I more readily noticed on my first visits here. For the past several years I have tried to be more intentional about developing peripheral compassion by looking more carefully to my right and to my left. I have learned that needs tend to lurk and live in these blurry and shadowy peripheral places. It’s not difficult for me to miss what should be obvious needs when I become too focused on where I am headed or what I happen to be doing at the moment. That’s why I often remind myself to walk slowly among the people and to see and listen to them carefully. I’m certainly not where I need to be in this regard but I am making progress.

This afternoon, our student teams headed for their respective assignments at Mother Teresa’s homes. As we walked to our bus in the misting rain, I noticed the beggars on the street whose meager possessions were covered with scraps of plastic and who sought shelter under any available cover. Rain is refreshing but certainly makes life even more inconvenient for those who live on the streets. Later, as my team and I walked through the slum outside of Prem Dan, our assigned home, I looked at and into the shanties that line the street and was again overwhelmed by the extreme poverty. Everything that is convenient to me, from clean water to a pantry full of groceries, is alien to these street dwellers. I also looked at the faces of our students as they walked through the current of beggars that live outside of Prem Dan. They are seeing things they have never seen before and, as a result, are beginning to sharpen their peripheral vision and compassion.

As my team and I served the residents at Prem Dan I made it a point to linger a little longer with each person I helped and to look at them a little more intently. I looked more carefully into each face and tried to notice their every expression. I was blessed by how each of them express their gratitude for our service. Even those who can’t speak are able to deliver a Hallmark card with a hint of a smile or a faint nod of the head. The most surprising experience today happened after I rubbed lotion into the hands, legs, feet, and back of a man lying in a fetal position. He was mumbling incoherently the entire time as his body twitched involuntarily. He was not able to fix his eyes on anything and had a far away and blank look on his face. When I finished caring for him I patted him twice on the back and began to walk toward the resident in the next bed. That’s when I heard him stop mumbling and clearly but faintly say, “Thank you, brother.” And then he went into the same mumbling cadence as when I had first helped him.

Could this have been Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor? I think so. And, I wonder what Jesus will say when I see Him face to face. Perhaps He will say, “I was naked and poor and sick and you cared for me. Thank you, brother.”

In addition to serving at New Hope School in the slums and at the aftercare home that we fund for young girls rescued from sex trafficking, our students have spent the last two afternoons serving at three of Mother Teresa’s homes. Mother Teresa’s influence and example continues to draw thousands of volunteers annually from around the world. They come here to serve the least of these for a variety of reasons. Many who come are searching for greater significance in life and are realizing that the path to significance is paved with service. Others come because, like Mother Teresa, they want to follow the example of Jesus and obey His words to care for the least of these. Some come out of curiosity and leave convicted about selfish living. But regardless of the reason why people come … they come by the thousands to serve and to care for the poorest of the poor, Kolkata’s outcasts.

I have been deeply moved by the tender and compassionate hearts of our students. On their first day at their assigned home, several silently wept at what they saw. But, within minutes, our students fell into the rhythm of serving and caring for the physical needs of the residents. It’s amazing to watch kids who may not take the initiative to clean their rooms at home so quickly take the initiative to help a broken man or woman to make their way to the toilet or to bring them a cup of water. But, what always amazes me most when I bring volunteers to serve at Mother Teresa’s homes is how they react when I hand them a bottle of lotion and then ask them to rub lotion into the dry, calloused, and broken feet of those we have come to serve. Our students did not hesitate for a second. It’s hard to find the words to describe what I felt as I watched our students tenderly massage the tired feet of the least of these, many of whom have never owned a pair of shoes.

Touching and washing the feet of the least of these is a profound and humbling experience. You cannot touch or wash the feet of others unless you are willing to bend low — both inside and out. When Jesus and His disciples gathered to eat the Passover meal in the upper room, Jesus got up from the table and washed His disciples’ feet (John 13:1-17). Jesus then explained to them that He had set an example of service He expected them to follow. Jesus did not institute foot washing as a church ordinance but rather set an example of the kind of humble service His followers should show to others. No other world view has a theology of feet or a leader who stooped to wash the feet of his disciples. We are most like Jesus when we compassionately and humbly bend low to serve others, expecting nothing in return. When I look at the hands of our students, I see beautiful hands — the hands of Jesus. They have used their hands to do for the least of these what Jesus would do.

Our team outside of Mother's House in Kolkata.

After nearly thirty hours of travel, our plane descended through the clouds and bounced once on the tarmac at Kolkata’s international airport. Although everyone was more than a little stiff from the long journey, you could sense the excitement as our students slung their backpacks across their weary shoulders and gulped their first visual drinks of muggy Kolkata. This is the beginning of their great adventure — an adventure that will challenge them to compassionately serve the least of these. With bags piled precariously high on luggage carts, we made our way out of the airport and through the crowds to our buses. As soon as we had loaded the last piece of luggage it started to rain. An hour later we arrived at the guesthouse where we will spend the next two weeks. We enjoyed lunch together and then headed to orientation at Shishu Bhavan, Mother Teresa’s home for destitute children, where Sister Mercy Marie assigned our students to work at three of Mother Teresa’s homes.

I am excited about how God will use our students. Although this is my first trip with these particular students, I have seen hopeful signs along the journey here — little things that have encouraged me about their determination to serve. While waiting for our gate to open on our layover in Dubai, one student befriended a mother traveling with two small children. She engaged the kids in games and within minutes the air was filled with laughter. Just a small thing. I watched as another young couple was trying to pacify two small children with long tubes of M&M candies. Their little boy grabbed his tube and waved it in the air and unwittingly showered everyone in sight with candy. Five of our boys leaped to their feet and cleaned up the colorful mess. Just a small thing. As I watched our students taking the initiative to perform these small acts of kindness I reflected on something Mother Teresa once said, “We cannot all do great things, but we can all do small things with great love.”

Doing small things with great love is why we are here. Over the next several days our students will have many opportunities to bless and serve the least of these in Mother Teresa’s homes, teach school lessons to children in a slum school that we support, and affirm the young girls who reside at the aftercare home that we fund and that provides a safe haven for these precious human beings rescued from human trafficking. The combination of all of the small things that we do with great love throughout the coming days will make a difference in the lives of hurting and damaged human beings. And these acts of kindness will also make a difference in the lives of our own students. Everyone benefits from small things done with great love.

British journalist Malcolm Muggeridge introduced Mother Teresa to the world in an interview aired by the BBC in 1967. Muggeridge was deeply touched by the life and work of Mother Teresa. He later traveled to Calcutta to produce a documentary about her and wrote a best-selling book entitled Something Beautiful for God: Mother Teresa of Calcutta. One of Muggeridge’s most treasured possessions is a devotional manual that Mother Teresa gave to him. She wrote the following prayer in the flyleaf of this book: ”Make us worthy, Lord, to serve our fellow men throughout the world who live and die in poverty and hunger. Give them through our hands this day their daily bread, and by our understanding love, peace and joy.” Mother Teresa was always thinking about the least of these and encouraged others to do the same.

I first read about Mother Teresa in the December 29, 1975 issue of Time magazine. This issue was titled “Living Saints: Messengers of Love and Hope” and featured the image of Mother Teresa on the cover. I was so inspired by what I read that I saved that issue of the magazine and still have it. Over the subsequent years I watched Mother Teresa’s selfless life unfold on the world stage. While in Nigeria in 2008, I stopped at a bookstore to purchase something to read on the long flight home. The shelves of the bookstore were sparse but they did have a copy of Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light, a biography based on a collection of Mother Teresa’s letters. So, I purchased and read this book on the flight home. This was the first of several books about Mother Teresa that I purchased and read.

Soon after returning home from Nigeria, I read Dangerous Surrender: What Happens When You Say Yes to God by Kay Warren. In one chapter, Kay wrote about her visit to Kolkata to serve at Kalighat, Mother Teresa’s home for the dying. Her story touched my heart and got me to thinking deeply about the possibility of going to Kolkata to serve at Mother Teresa’s homes. After a short period of prayer and planning, I was on a flight to Kolkata. I did not know what to expect and was both anxious and excited. But, my time at Mother Teresa’s homes turned out to be one of the best and most enriching experiences of my life. As a volunteer, I could not just stand and observe from a safe and sterile distance. I had to physically touch the broken bodies of the lowest of the least of these — Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor. This experience touched me deeply and challenged me to look for and respond to the needs of Jesus in the distressing disguise of the poor wherever I go.

Mother Teresa was born 100 years-ago on this day and died on September 5, 1997. Since my first visit to her homes in January 2009, I have returned to Kolkata to serve at her homes on three other occasions. On each of my visits I have worked alongside hundreds of volunteers who traveled to Kolkata from around the world to serve the poorest of the poor. Every volunteer I have spoken with has told me the same thing — they were inspired to travel to Kolkata to serve the poor at their own expense because of Mother Teresa’s Christ-like example of unconditional love and selfless service. One-hundred years after her birth, Mother Teresa’s influence and legacy continue to inspire and challenge the people of the world to love as Jesus loved.