This is my body. This is my blood, the bum said to his fellow vagabonds at the altar made of stacked tires with plywood on top. Do this in remembrance of me, he poured red wine into a paper cup and broke pieces of Wonder Bread. The homeless lined up before him, each taking a sip of wine and a bit of bread. They then sat on the ground around him; meditating on the blood and the body of Christ. Mumblings of prayers were heard. Asking for peace and strength.

Some had been on the streets forever. Others recently released from psych wards and jails. There were those with addictions. And ones who had fallen on hard times. Under the bridge, they met every Sunday to break bread and listen to readings from scripture. Some understood. Others could not comprehend.

How could the son of God sacrifice himself for me? many would ask. A poor, broken man. Why would he do that? And then words rang in their ears. To the least of my brethren…to the least. There will always be the poor among you, Christ’s words.

Based on Mathew 26:11.