I Ran Into Jesus Today

I ran into Jesus today. He was working at Lowe's, running the cash register when I checked out with two replacement fluorescent tubes for our closet. He didn't say much – some sort of formula greeting that I didn't pay much attention to, and then a formula "thank you" as he completed my transaction. I said a quick "thank you" back to Him, and I left.

I probably wouldn't even have noticed who He was – but, as I started walking back to the car, I wondered (for the thousandth time) why it is that I always say "thank you" to store clerks. Aren't they the ones who have an obligation to thank me? I've just given them some money. Surely, they should be thankful that I've helped to support their company and the employees' families.

And yet, I've always been thankful when I am privileged to buy something. Why?

It's not such a puzzle, really. The clerk and the store get value from this transaction, but so do I. I should be thankful that the clerk got out of bed and came to work. Of course, if that clerk hadn't taken my money, surely another one would have. But I would then need to be thankful to that clerk. It doesn't much matter which clerk did something that I should be thankful for. I should still be thankful.

But is there any reason why I should be thankful that this particular clerk (as opposed to a generic, faceless, nameless clerk-object) took my money and pronounced me authorized to leave with my purchases?

But then it hit me. Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me" (Matt 25:40, NIV).

If I thank this clerk for doing what I need to have done, I am in fact thanking Jesus.

But, to do that, I must perceive this clerk not as a function, but as a person, one of Jesus' brothers and sisters. Only then am I actually thanking Jesus. These are not robots, but selves who sacrifice their time to do the things that benefit me. That they do it for pay changes nothing. If I perceive Jesus in the person who runs the cash register, then my quick "thank you" is not just a formula but something that has a meaning, something that honors that person for being who he or she is.

At Lowe's today, Jesus was an African American woman. But I ran into Him again at Costco and the library.

Copyright © 2009, Paul H. Harder II

This essay is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.