Matthew 25:31-46
Tomorrow, November 23, I will have served you, the people of Grace, for 10 years, years, for me, full of joy and learning and great privilege. As I give thanks to God for leading me here to share life with all of you, there are no more appropriate words upon which to meditate than Jesus’ words from Matthew chapter 25. Jesus tells a parable about the end of all time, a time when people will be separated not on the basis of right belief or even on the basis of right action. Rather, when the Son of Man separates the sheep from the goats, the righteous from the unrighteous, the question of each group startlingly reveals the state of their hearts. In the parable, the Son of Man commends those who feed and clothe, visit and welcome him, and the righteous ask: When was it that we saw you hungry and fed you? They don’t even realize how they’ve exercised grace. But when the Son of Man curses those who fail to feed and clothe, visit and welcome him, the unrighteous ask: When was it that we saw you hungry and failed to feed you? The unrighteous seek to justify themselves. The implied message of their question is: well, if we had known it was you, Jesus, instead of an unworthy person, we would have certainly fed and clothed you. By contrast, the righteous go about their lives, filled with the Holy Spirit and led by it, not tallying up their good works, but simply encountering the world with grace and love. Living joyously, generously, without calculation.
Jesus’ parable invites us to consider our basic posture towards the world: whether it is one of grace or one of judgment.
Grace, by definition, is unearned favor. Meaning, we receive grace when others are kind to us, generous to us, speak up for us even when they don’t know us. We haven’t earned their favor yet. We haven’t built trust with them over a number of years. Still, the gracious one treats us with respect and love and even gives in extraordinary ways just because they are gracious, not because we have done anything to make ourselves worthy of the other’s kindness. In the parable, the righteous ones embrace a posture of grace, treat strangers as beloved friends and neighbors even when they have not earned such favor. Feeding, clothing, visiting those sick and in prison, welcoming strangers.
Who we meet as we feed and clothe, visit and welcome is the reason this parable is not law for us but instead a roadmap to Christ. In seminary, on the day my systematic theology professor lectured on the end times which in theologian-speak is called eschatology, he drew a circle on the blackboard. Within that circle he drew a smaller circle. In the very center, Vitor, my professor, drew a dot. Vitor said: This is church and society from an eschatological perspective. At the center are the church leaders, clergy and lay. The inner circle includes the church at large. There are people closer to the center, the ones who have always been part of the church. There are people who are new to the church, a little further out, perhaps the people no one talks to. Now, the other side of the inner circle is the rest of society, those outside the church but part of mainstream culture. And out here, Vitor said, drawing a dot outside the circles altogether, here are the people forgotten, the people invisible to others, those marginalized. People in prison, people experiencing homelessness, older adults with few visitors, kids in foster care, refugees, people with chronic illness, people abandoned by family and ignored by society. And then, Vitor asked: Where is Christ? We seminary students raised our hands and ventured guesses: perhaps at the center with the religious leaders? Perhaps right along the edge where the inner circle meets the outer circle, at the intersection of church and society? Vitor shook his head and marched again to the board to draw a dot outside the circles. Christ is on the margins, he said.
The case numbers of Covid-19 in the state of Arizona are dramatically rising as they are throughout the country. I think of doctors and nurses, CNAs and respiratory therapists burnt out but still treating and tenderly caring for people they’ve never met, people they’ll likely never meet again. I think of those hospitalized due to Covid-19, isolated, scared, tired, and their anxious families and friends. This year, I wonder if we understand Jesus’ parable more fully because we all feel more vulnerable. Of course, though we are all impacted in some way by the pandemic, there are some who have more access to resources than others, some who suffer the physical and economic consequences more than others. Regardless, this year, we know the value of exercising grace, and we know the value of someone bringing us food, of someone visiting, of someone welcoming us. Whether we are the ones exercising grace or the ones isolated, ignored, and marginalized, we hear Jesus’ parable differently this year—or at least I do.
Our question of the day is: When have you met Christ in someone else? To read the community’s response, go to the Facebook feed for November 22’s live stream worship service.
On this Christ the King Sunday, we celebrate that Christ will finally come in all glory at the end of time, but we also celebrate that Christ comes to meet humanity on the margins. We, in fact, don’t have to wait for the end of all time to meet Christ but simply turn to our neighbor, one who needs grace in some way and live joyously, generously with them. Especially as I celebrate 10 years here, I give thanks to God that we, Grace Lutheran Church, we sit at the margins with Jesus. We don’t do it perfectly, not even in striking distance of perfectly, but here, I have met Jesus. Thanks be to God! Amen.