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Working in a highly prominent hotel in one of the most well-known districts of Manhattan could be seen as the tipping point of a waitress career. And it was. It was there when during a brunch service the hostess casually pointed to a young man with a blond hair, who was a regular guest. “He can sell your…” she said with a smile, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. I still don’t understand what made her think I would like to sell my reproductive organ, but that was a prompt I never took seriously.

As a ministry worker, I must admit some things just seem like the norm. I’ve been trained to face sinners with a smile and a cold blooded face, knowing that they belong to a kingdom that is foreign to me. What seems normal to them is completely foreign to me, and just like when learning to speak a new language, I must accept them for who they are in order to establish communication.

Every kingdom has a king and when your king is money, you serve him the best you can. A king delegates, and when he does, his servants must obey, or they will be no longer belong to his kingdom. Serving money may mean doing things you don’t really want to do. History is full of men and women who have died in wars, fighting for their kings and queens. Dying or selling – some choose the lesser evil.

Money moves. Sometimes money wants houses, sometimes, cloths, sometimes women or men… It buys and it sells. It builds and it destroys. It may ask for medical supplies, or for cars. A king is a king. When a king goes to war, it brings an army, weapons, a plan, and so on.

When your king is Jesus, you pretty much face the same choice – we are called to leave parents and siblings, children, houses, etc. We are called into the unknown, and death is often the reward. We may travel with no supplies at all, left at the mercy of other people, people we don’t know. We are strangers, poor and needy, representing a king who owns heaven and earth, and every thing that is in the world.

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