Tea, Toast, and the Presence of Jesus

Tea, Toast, and the Presence of Jesus


This morning, I stepped out of the tube station into the pouring rain of central London. Not just any rain—the kind that soaks you through, falling sideways, relentless and cold. As I walked to The Salvation Army centre where I serve, I gathered some of the people we have the privilege of journeying alongside as I walked past them on the short distance from the tube to the centre.


These beautiful people had spent the night sleeping on the streets of London. They were soaked, freezing, and weary. I couldn’t bear to see them stand outside a second longer than they needed to, so I opened the doors of the centre before we had officially opened to let them all in with me. Some moments in ministry are not about schedules or policies—they are about people.


Inside, the toasters were soon turned on and the hot water dispensers filled. Butter, jam, peanut butter, chocolate spread—the orders came in quickly, and I made toast while others prepared their own cups of tea and coffee. Wet clothes were peeled off, items were draped over radiators in an attempt to warm up, and hands curled around hot mugs, seeking comfort as much as warmth.


We sat together, sharing tea, toast, and conversation. It was a simple moment, yet profoundly holy. No business cases were written, no risk assessments completed, no budgets forecasted. Just the sacred act of being together.


As we sat around those tables, I realised again that these people are my family—not by blood, but by shared humanity, by the deep connections that come when we choose to be with each other. The conversations were rich, the presence of Jesus tangible. We spoke of everything from the ill health of the Pope, to the war in Ukraine, to my Yorkshire accent, and much more.


Hebrews 13:2 reminds us, Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. Today, I saw Jesus in the soaked and shivering faces that came through our doors. I saw Him in the warmth of tea, the eating of toast, the quiet care of drying off by the radiators.


Ministry is a privilege. Ministry is beautiful. Ministry is messy.


And in the middle of the rain-soaked streets of central London, Jesus showed up.


I thank God for the calling that is mine.




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