When the Son of Man comes

Matthew 25: 31-46, NT page 29 When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundations of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life. Sermon “Thanks be to God” is what we always say after Scripture is read here in worship, but sometimes it’s hard to be thankful for what’s been read. Now, for the third Sunday in a row, we’re reading from one of the most disturbing chapters in the New Testament, Matthew chapter 25, where Jesus offers not encouragement really, not so much hope or love, and certainly not grace so much as judgment and stern warning. It’s a hard word that Jesus has for us today. “Keep your lamp trimmed and burning,” we read two weeks ago, and if you don’t you’ll risk being locked out from the wedding banquet. Then last Sunday when we read the second parable in this chapter, the parable of the talents, we were warned not to be like the one slave who was more concerned with conserving his talent than using it for the Glory of God. Therefore he buries it in a field without ever putting it to use, and so is thrown into the outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. A common theme that runs through both of these parables and now third from the 25th chapter of Matthew is the need to be ready, for we know neither the day nor the hour when Christ will return, and when Christ does return some will enter into the joy prepared by the master and others will enter into punishment. Be ready then, Jesus says, though some of us will take this warning more seriously than others. There was an old preacher who began each day by writing a to-do list. There he’d list his chores: mend the fence, pay the power bill, change the oil. Day after day the list would change according to the direction of his wife, but every day the last item on his list was the same: get ready. The day of Christ’s coming will be like a thief in the night. We know neither the day nor the hour, though it’s easy to fall into the illusion that there’s plenty of time, going to sleep every night as though the next day were inevitable. There’s a prayer, morbid as it is, that takes Jesus’ warning as seriously as that old preacher: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Death comes as a surprise. Like the coming of Son of Man, we know neither the day nor the hour, so get ready Jesus urges here in the 25th chapter of Matthew, and this last portion of the chapter tells us how. In this last parable of the chapter, the separation of the sheep and the goats, we hear that there will be no entry into the Kingdom of Heaven without a recommendation from the poor, the imprisoned, the sick, the least of these. That makes heaven different from Middle School, where what you work for is an association with the most popular. Who you are seen with matters, and being seen with someone who is low on the social hierarchy can be so detrimental to your social standing that the parent whose hand you once never wanted to let go of, becomes such a liability that you don’t even want to be seen getting out of her car. People notice who you walk down the hall with and who you sit next to in the cafeteria. And parents know this, they understand the importance of it. We think about the school, not just in terms of education but in terms of socialization – thinking of who our children’s friends will be. Wanting them to be around children from nice, Christian, families. Hoping that they’ll be in the right kind of place to marry the right kind of person when the time comes. It’s relationships that matter. Who you know shapes who you will become and what you’ll have access to. So you value your friendship with the owner of the restaurant. Not only is she a good person, but she can also get you a table, even on the busiest Saturday night. You value your friendship with the doctor, because he knows things that you don’t, can give you advice that others can’t, and late at night it’s his word that can assure you that relief will come in the morning. It’s not what you know, but who you know, and throughout history some have thought that knowing the preacher is something like knowing the ticket taker at the movies – if you know the guy all you have to do is slip him five bucks and you can go right in, but the point of the parable is that the palm you need grease for entry into the Kingdom of Heaven is the one that comes to you begging for something to eat. The hand extended with dirt under the nails and no shoes on his feet. The voice that’s dry and raspy, lips cracked – “sir, if only I had some water to drink.” The stranger who walks into town with a name that no one recognizes from a place that no one has ever heard of. Somehow they got through the fence that was built along the border. They walk the streets in search for work, not much hope for hospitality, and you know what they want from you but think about what they came here to offer you before you fight to send them back where they came from. ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ The hand that holds the keys to the Kingdom is the one that stretches out for you from the hospital bed. Afraid and alone, weak from disease. The hand that reaches through the bars of the jail cell, longing to touch what is flesh and blood rather than what surrounds them, unforgiving block and cold steel. They reach out and we are all tempted to back away, but the king will answer those who stepped forward and responded to their need, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ We all know how it’s done, I suppose. To be thought well of it’s important to be seen in the right groups, with the right kind of people. The saying goes that the one who lies down with the dogs will get up with fleas, but hear the words of Christ from this parable in Matthew chapter 25 – if you look into the face of the least of these, you look into the face of Lord. USA Today reported last week that Pope Francis plans to build showers for the homeless under the sweeping white colonnade of St. Peter's Square. So many pilgrims journey to St. Peter’s Square to see the face of Christ’s representative, to hear the voice of the one who speaks with authority and leads the Roman Catholic Church. To hear that voice they look up to a balcony high above the plaza, but hear the instruction from this parable in Matthew: it is how we act towards the ones who shower under that sweeping white colonnade that matters to our Lord. “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Christ is not nearly as distant as we had imagined. He reaches out to you from back alleys, he peaks out from under the bridges, and while we all are certain that our wellbeing depends on insulating ourselves from poverty, illness, and crime, be careful not to fence out the King of Kings. Amen.