Uploaded November 2021 | Updated September 2026, 6 hours ago
A couple years ago, my cousin Tawnya and her husband Tom came to Louisville to join Sarah and me for a Switchfoot concert. They met us a little early so we could all go out to eat together and we decided to go to Potbelly Sandwich Company. When we walked in to Potbelly, we ordered our food and sat down, and I noticed that there were two men sitting in the corner…clearly down on their luck, not eating, looking really cold and tired. So I sat my food down with my group and decided to go and join them at their table for a second. When I sat down, we began talking and I found out that one of them used to be a star track runner in high school and he even had a full ride athletic scholarship to Morehead State University, which is close to where I am from (so we had an instant connection.) It was at Morehead where he began abusing opioids and other drugs. After he left the school, he ended up living on the streets in Louisville, barely able to survive.
Around that point, Tom, my cousin’s husband, came over and asked if they would like a meal…and they quickly said yes. When the food came out, I invited them to come and sit with us and have our meals together…so they did. During the course of the conversation, we learned that one of them, an African American man, was gay. He had been living on the streets for years. The other, the Morehead State guy, was newer to the streets and was learning the ropes from the other one.
Now, I’m not sure if you have noticed…but I don’t really look like a typical pastor. So when one of the guys asked me what I did for a living, I said “What do you think I do?”
He responded with “You are either an addict who was in jail, or you are a cop.”
Really opposite ends of the spectrum. At that point in my life, I had my head shaved…so I can see why he thought that, but he was wrong. And when I told him I was a pastor, he was a little shocked. But the reason he was shocked wasn’t because I was young, or tatted, or nearly bald….it was because I was sharing a meal with him.
I’m not sure of the circumstance, but I remember at the end of our meal, one of the men told us that he wished more Christians did things like what we had just done. He specifically called out Christians. I’m not sure what experience that he had with Christians, but this man couldn’t believe that a Christian would share a meal with him….a black, gay, homeless man.
Now, I’m not telling you this story to pump myself up. I can remember this story so vividly because that was one of the first times in my life where I have done something that out of my comfort zone. And it really impacted me moving forward.
Did you know that the word “Christian” comes from the Greek word christianos, meaning “little Christ”? And that the accusers of Jesus’s disciples used it as an insult…? “Check it out, there’s the ‘little Christs,’” they would say.
The bible says “So for a whole year Barnabas and Saul met with the church and taught great numbers of people. The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch.”
The believers’ lifestyle was so clear and unmistakable that this nickname was assigned to them. Because they put into practice what they had learned from Jesus, they completely achieved the mission that was given to them (and to us): to represent Christ and make Him known!
Now, as interesting as this is…what makes this fact so pertinent to my story about the two homeless guys is this….guess what the African American gay man’s name was?
Christian.
This guy’s name literally meant…”Little Christ. Little Jesus.” And for one moment in time, I got to live out that namesake toward him. I got to be a “little Jesus” to this man.
Isn’t that what we all want? If we call our selves Christians….don’t we all just want to be Little Christ’s to those around us?
Matthew 25 is a really famous chapter in the bible. In this chapter, Jesus says this: 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ 40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
When we are out and about and we see someone begging on a street corner, what if we thought “That’s Jesus.” When we see a child with no winter coat and raggedy shoes, what if we thought “There is my chance to be a Little Christ.” When we see a stranger who may be a little odd or different from us, what if we engaged them in conversation and started to see them like the hero sees them?
Stop waiting on being a part of the kingdom of God, and open your eyes. We can see Jesus all around us when we look.
A couple years ago, my cousin Tawnya and her husband Tom came to Louisville to join Sarah and me for a Switchfoot concert. They met us a little early so we could all go out to eat together and we decided to go to Potbelly Sandwich Company. When we walked in to Potbelly, we ordered our food and sat down, and I noticed that there were two men sitting in the corner…clearly down on their luck, not eating, looking really cold and tired. So I sat my food down with my group and decided to go and join them at their table for a second. When I sat down, we began talking and I found out that one of them used to be a star track runner in high school and he even had a full ride athletic scholarship to Morehead State University, which is close to where I am from (so we had an instant connection.) It was at Morehead where he began abusing opioids and other drugs. After he left the school, he ended up living on the streets in Louisville, barely able to survive.
Around that point, Tom, my cousin’s husband, came over and asked if they would like a meal…and they quickly said yes. When the food came out, I invited them to come and sit with us and have our meals together…so they did. During the course of the conversation, we learned that one of them, an African American man, was gay. He had been living on the streets for years. The other, the Morehead State guy, was newer to the streets and was learning the ropes from the other one.
Now, I’m not sure if you have noticed…but I don’t really look like a typical pastor. So when one of the guys asked me what I did for a living, I said “What do you think I do?”
He responded with “You are either an addict who was in jail, or you are a cop.”
Really opposite ends of the spectrum. At that point in my life, I had my head shaved…so I can see why he thought that, but he was wrong. And when I told him I was a pastor, he was a little shocked. But the reason he was shocked wasn’t because I was young, or tatted, or nearly bald….it was because I was sharing a meal with him.
I’m not sure of the circumstance, but I remember at the end of our meal, one of the men told us that he wished more Christians did things like what we had just done. He specifically called out Christians. I’m not sure what experience that he had with Christians, but this man couldn’t believe that a Christian would share a meal with him….a black, gay, homeless man.
Now, I’m not telling you this story to pump myself up. I can remember this story so vividly because that was one of the first times in my life where I have done something that out of my comfort zone. And it really impacted me moving forward.
Did you know that the word “Christian” comes from the Greek word christianos, meaning “little Christ”? And that the accusers of Jesus’s disciples used it as an insult…? “Check it out, there’s the ‘little Christs,’” they would say.
The bible says “So for a whole year Barnabas and Saul met with the church and taught great numbers of people. The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch.”
The believers’ lifestyle was so clear and unmistakable that this nickname was assigned to them. Because they put into practice what they had learned from Jesus, they completely achieved the mission that was given to them (and to us): to represent Christ and make Him known!
Now, as interesting as this is…what makes this fact so pertinent to my story about the two homeless guys is this….guess what the African American gay man’s name was?
Christian.
This guy’s name literally meant…”Little Christ. Little Jesus.” And for one moment in time, I got to live out that namesake toward him. I got to be a “little Jesus” to this man.
Isn’t that what we all want? If we call our selves Christians….don’t we all just want to be Little Christ’s to those around us?
Matthew 25 is a really famous chapter in the bible. In this chapter, Jesus says this: 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ 40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
When we are out and about and we see someone begging on a street corner, what if we thought “That’s Jesus.” When we see a child with no winter coat and raggedy shoes, what if we thought “There is my chance to be a Little Christ.” When we see a stranger who may be a little odd or different from us, what if we engaged them in conversation and started to see them like the hero sees them?
Stop waiting on being a part of the kingdom of God, and open your eyes. We can see Jesus all around us when we look.
