Matthew 25:31-46 The least of these Christ the King Nov 23, 2008
There is a story I heard in seminary about an elderly woman who used to sit in the front pew of her church and line up ten 1 pound notes in front of her on that privacy guard that many churches have. There she sat, right in front of the preacher who always seemed to preach longer than she thought he should, which apparently was about 10 minutes. After 10 minutes she began removing a 1 pound note each time a minute passed until either the preacher finished or there were no more.
Seems like an almost appropriate way to begin a sermon on Ingathering Sunday but it is also Christ the King Sunday and I would like to address the Gospel text and our response to the King. As a way into that – a little humor.
Philosophy of Love...
If you love something, set it free.
If it comes back, it will always be yours.
If it doesn't come back, it was never yours to begin with.
But...
If it just sits in your living room,
watches your TV,
messes up your stuff,
eats your food,
uses your telephone,
takes your money,
and doesn't appear to realize that you actually set it free in the first place,
you either married it or gave birth to it.
It is easy for us to point the finger at others for their faults. And in so doing, when we joke about such judgement, it keeps the judgement “out there”. Many folks do so because they are uncomfortable with judgement in any form but especially as Jesus expresses it in today’s Gospel. It’s easy in our discomfort to joke it away or say that Jesus couldn’t really mean what was just read because He is so loving. The point is that because He is so loving, He gives warning to all that there is a judgement and a way out of it.
It would be easy to aim this particular passage at say the Pharisees and understand it as a shot at them for their self righteousness. But that doesn’t seem to be the context. This lesson comes just after two parables of the kingdom. It is directed possibly at the Pharisees but clearly toward the disciples. It’s not about gaining entrance into the Kingdom of heaven through good works, though it would seem that way on the surface. Such entrance into heaven is by the grace of God, not our own merit. “The judgement in this passage is an indictment upon the church for its lack of social involvement as Kingdom members. Jesus taught that love for God is evidenced by love for our neighbor, that knowing God’s forgiveness will lead us to share mercy, and that in experiencing God’s love, we will as a consequence, extend that love to others.”[1] What we see here is an indictment for complacency – for not acting in the face of clear need. It is a passage which declares that acts of omission really are sin.
In the book The Screwtape Letters, by C. S. Lewis, a devil, Screwtape, briefs his demon nephew, Wormwood, in the subtleties and techniques of tempting people. Through the letters the devil says that the objective is not to make people wicked but to make them indifferent. Satan cautions Wormwood that he must keep the “patient” comfortable at all costs. If he should start thinking about anything of importance, encourage him to think about his luncheon plans and not to worry so much because it could cause indigestion. And then the devil gives this instruction to his nephew: "I, the devil, will always see to it that there are bad people. Your job, my dear Wormwood, is to provide me with people who do not care."
What a stinging insight Lewis has as he writes from the perspective of uncle Screwtape. And the Gospel passage addresses this complacency and indifference. This is a separation of the sheep from the goats, not the sheep from the wolves. Ezekiel writes in our OT reading some words which may illuminate this more. “I myself,” says the Lord, “will judge between the fat sheep and the lean sheep … I will judge between sheep and sheep.” It’s not hard to determine punishment for those who are blatantly evil; it’s not hard to reward those who are obviously righteous. It’s much more difficult to separate those who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Jesus is here saying that there is coming a day when the people of the kingdom of God will be identified as such.
It is interesting to me that both the sheep and the goats are surprised at the verdict. The sheep are surprised because they had not expected that their concern for the unfortunate would be interpreted as love for the “King” himself. They did not expect to be rewarded for what they simply regarded as their duty and proper service. The “goats” are also surprised, but for the opposite reason: They never expected to be punished for what they had failed to do. With that in mind, I want to repeat a comment from a moment ago, which is actually a quote from a commentary. “Jesus taught that love for God is evidenced by love for our neighbor, that knowing God’s forgiveness will lead us to share mercy, and that in experiencing God’s love, we will as a consequence, extend that love to others.”
Let me conclude with a story written by Leo Tolstoy.
There once lived in the city of Marseilles an old shoemaker, loved and honored by his neighbors, who affectionately called him "Father Martin".
One Christmas Eve, as he sat alone in his little shop reading of the visit of the Wise Men to the infant Jesus, and of the gifts they brought, he said to himself. "If tomorrow were the first Christmas, and if Jesus were to be born in Marseilles this night, I know what I would give Him!" He rose from his stool and took from a shelf overhead two tiny shoes of softest snow- white leather, with bright silver buckles. "I would give Him those, my finest work."
Replacing the shoes, he blew out the candle and retired to rest. Hardly had he closed his eyes, it seemed, when he heard a voice call his name..."Martin! Martin!"
Intuitively he felt a presence. Then the voice spoke again..."Martin, you have wished to see Me. Tomorrow I shall pass by your window. If you see Me, and bid Me enter, I shall be your guest at your table."
Father Martin did not sleep that night for joy. And before it was yet dawn he rose and swept and tidied up his little shop. He spread fresh sand upon the floor, and wreathed green boughs of fir along the rafters. On the spotless linen-covered table he placed a loaf of white bread, a jar of honey, and a pitcher of milk, and over the fire he hung a pot of tea. Then he took up his patient vigil at the window.
Presently he saw an old street-sweeper pass by, blowing upon his thin, gnarled hands to warm them. "Poor fellow, he must be half frozen," thought Martin. Opening the door he called out to him, "Come in, my friend, and warm, and drink a cup of hot tea." And the man gratefully accepted the invitation.
An hour passed, and Martin saw a young, miserably clothed women carrying a baby. She paused wearily to rest in the shelter of his doorway. The heart of the old cobbler was touched. Quickly he flung open the door.
"Come in and warm while you rest," he said to her. "You do not look well," he remarked.
"I am going to the hospital. I hope they will take me in, and my baby boy," she explained. "My husband is at sea, and I am ill, without a soul to help."
"Poor child!" cried Father Martin. "You must eat something while you are getting warm. No, Then let me give a cup of milk to the little one. Ah! What a bright, pretty fellow he is! Why, you have put no shoes on him!"
"I have no shoes for him," sighed the mother sadly. "Then he shall have this lovely pair I finished yesterday." And Father Martin took down from the shelf the soft little snow-white shoes he had admired the evening before. He slipped them on the child's feet...they fit perfectly. And shortly after the poor young mother left, two shoes in her hand and tearful with gratitude.
And Father Martin resumed his post at the window. Hour after hour went by, and although many people passed his window, and many needy souls shared his hospitality, the expected Guest did not appear.
"It was only a dream," he sighed, with a heavy heart. "I did believe; but he has not come." Suddenly, so it seemed to his weary eyes, the room was flooded with a strange light. And to the cobbler's astonished vision there appeared before him, one by one, the poor street-sweeper, the sick mother and her child, and all the people whom he had aided during the day. And each smiled at him and said. "Have you not seen me? Did I not sit at your table?" Then they vanished.
At last, out of the silence, Father Martin heard again the gentle voice repeating the old familiar words. "Whosoever shall receive one such in My name, receiveth Me...for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat; I was athirst, and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took Me in...verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto Me."
While Father Martin was expectantly awaiting the opportunity to meet the Lord face to face, he did not turn a blind eye to the many around him who were in need, whether great or small. In seeing their needs and helping to meet them, he DID meet Christ … in others. Where and how will you meet and serve Christ today… and every day? Amen
Let us come forward now and offer our pledges as an act of both worship and service to God.