A $20 Burrito Went Viral. The Real Cost Is How We Treat People Who Struggle.

A college student complained about a $20 burrito, and a member of Congress posted dismissively — then apologized after the backlash. What's striking is not the walkback but the instinct that preceded it. When someone names a struggle, our first move is often to measure whether they've earned the right to complain. The numbers back up the frustration: nearly half of American families cannot afford the current cost of living. Home prices have climbed 81% since 2017, rents 54%, while wages trail at 43%. This isn't about one overpriced burrito — it's arithmetic that doesn't balance for millions of households.

Micah's portrait of God turns that instinct inside out. The prophet describes a God who doesn't grudgingly tolerate a struggling remnant — He delights in showing unfailing love. Compassion, in Micah's vision, isn't a reluctant duty. It's a joy. When our first response to someone's hardship is to audit whether their pain qualifies as legitimate, we've drifted from a God who finds pleasure in mercy. That doesn't settle whether a $20 burrito is too expensive or validate every complaint about prices. It means the posture itself matters — whether we lean toward people with curiosity or away from them with suspicion.

So here's the question worth carrying into the day: when someone near us names a burden — a bill that doesn't fit, a rent increase, a grocery total that stings — is our first instinct to dismiss or to bear it with them? We can disagree about policy and still practice the kind of compassion that finds delight in mercy rather than resentment at being asked.