A stranger moves into town, and he's skeptical about all this, so he decides to check things out. He hides and watches. The rabbi gets up in the morning, says his prayers, and then dresses in peasant clothes. He grabs an axe, goes off into the woods, and cuts some firewood, which he then hauls to a shack on the outskirts of the village. There an old woman and her sick son live. He leaves them the wood, enough for a week, and then sneaks back home.
Having observed the rabbi's actions, the newcomer stays on in the village and becomes his disciple. And whenever he hears one of the villagers say, "On Friday morning our rabbi ascends all the way to heaven," the newcomer quietly adds, "If not higher."1
One of the most persistent forms of humor of our time is built around someone arriving at the pearly gate of heaven only to be met by St. Peter who poses some test or challenge to the person as to why he or she should enter. Most are quite amusing. One of my favorites is a man who is told that his life will be examined and he gets so many points for each good deed he has done and . . .
When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?? 'the King will reply,
?I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.?
In a small Jewish town in Russia, there is a rabbi who disappears each Friday morning for several hours. His devoted disciples boast that during those hours their rabbi goes up to heaven and talks to God.
A stranger moves into town, and he's skeptical about all this, so he decides to check things out. He hides and watches. The rabbi gets up in the morning, says his prayers, and then dresses in peasant clothes. He grabs an axe, goes off into the woods, and cuts some firewood, which he then hauls to a shack on the outskirts of the village. There an old woman and her sick son live. He leaves them the wood, enough for a week, and then sneaks back home.
Having observed the rabbi's actions, the newcomer stays on in the village and becomes his disciple. And whenever he hears one of the villagers say, "On Friday morning our rabbi ascends all the way to heaven," the newcomer quietly adds, "If not higher."1
One of the most persistent forms of humor of our time is built around someone arriving at the pearly gate of heaven only to be met by St. Peter who poses some test or challenge to the person as to why he or she should enter. Most are quite amusing. One of my favorites is a man who is told that his life will be examined and he gets so many points for each good deed he has done and that he needs twenty five points. A life of good works at his church gets him only two points. He is stunned and one by one goes through the best characteristic of his life to discover he is still way short of twenty five points. In exasperation he says, "It would take a miracle to get me in here!" Peter smiles and says, "welcome."
And that is totally correct. Paul writes in Ephesians 2:8-9: "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith?and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God? not by works, so that no one can boast."
But then we read Jesus? parable of the sheep and goats and it looks as if its all about doing good works.
People are either in or out of the kingdom of God depending on how compassionate they are in this life.
So, is this a contradiction? Which is it: are we accepted by God's grace, or is it how we live, particularly our acts of kindness and generosity?
When confronted by a dilemma the safe answer is to say, "it's both."
Are we influenced more by genetics or our upbringing? It's both.
Is light a wave or a particle? It's both.
And in this case it is both.
We are saved by grace, but are we possessed by grace?
God's love and grace is not like a rose we stick on our lapel.
It's not a badge or a formula that we recite at the gates of heaven to give us entrance.
God offers us grace; but are we willing to let grace take possession of our lives, or do we stick it in the file folder called "heaven", or "church"?
We read this passage in Matthew 25 where Jesus says, "as much as you have done it to the least of these my brothers, you have done it to me."
Do you find anything about that the least bit shocking?
At first I didn't either until I thought about it for a while.
What is shocking in a way is who he is calling "brothers".
The poor, the naked, the homeless, the thirsty, and even the prisoner are His brothers.
And I think that is what is at the heart of this parable.
It would read totally differently if Jesus said, "You have done it for me when you do kindness for them, the poor, the naked, the prisoner."
That sounds pretty familiar too, but do you notice the subtlety?
I can imagine this conversation taking place in a crowded market place. You see the people coming and going but on the margins of the crowd you see the ones you maybe don't notice at first: the lame beggar sitting in a doorway, the unkempt poor children with running noses playing in the street. Maybe even a merchant or a shopper who for some reason is shunned.
Jesus with a gesture or a sweep of his arm, begins to point them out, the unnoticed ones. And he says, when you do it to these ones, these brothers of mine, these sisters of mine, you do it to me.
Your brothers, Lord?
These are your brothers?
Valerie met me during the most difficult time in my life. I was broken and in many ways a wreck. We attended a church together and the preacher was a well known figure. He had been a successful pastor with a fair following of devoted parishioners.
But one Sunday he said something that I am sure he would not even have been aware of that totally closed a door between us.
He was talking about the church's need to be a compassionate welcoming congregation, just the way we talk about ourselves.
But he said something I will never forget, not because it was so outrageous, because it wasn't. In fact I doubt that anyone but me heard it. But what he said was, "we need to be a place for the humpty dumpty believers, for people who are broken in life."
Now you might not hear it the way I did.
I was broken for sure, but he did not include himself or most of his congregation in that category.
It was clearly a "them" and "us", and I was on the outside looking in. In fact from that point on, I was not even looking in. I was already headed in another direction. One that would take us to Trinity and and the Presbyterian Church in Canada... and ultimately here with you.
Jesus doesn't say, do it for "them". He says do it for "me". Do it , not for the down-and-outers, but do it for my brothers.
Jesus makes me his brother and he makes the rest his brothers and when you begin to see that these folks are no different from you and me, it puts them in a totally different light. They no longer live in the margins or in the shadows, because they are "us".
When having compassion for others around us in need becomes second nature we see them not as "the needy" but as brothers and sisters.
Gary Waddingham, rector of St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Billings, Montana, tells this story:
Several years ago, when I was ministering in a small rural community, we had extra food left over from our Christmas basket. I happened to think of a poor family who lived at the edge of town. I packed up the food and drove to their house.
I am never sure how one goes about "doing charity" while preserving the dignity of those who receive the charity. When the woman, surrounded by her several children, answered the door, I thought of a subtle way to offer the food to her.
I asked, "Do you know anyone who could use some extra food?"
"You bet," she said and got her coat, headed toward her car saying, "Follow me."
She took me to people who were poorer than she, people who desperately needed food. Even though she herself needed food, I remember clearly that there was absolutely no hesitation on her part.
Hear a story by the American evangelist and sociologist, Tony Campolo:
I walked down Chestnut Street in Philadelphia. There was a filthy bum, covered with soot from head to toe. He had a huge beard. I?ll never forget the beard. It was a gigantic beard with rotted food stuck in it. He held a cup of McDonald's coffee and mumbled as he walked along the street. He spotted me and said, "Hey, Mister. You want some of my coffee?"
I knew I should take some to be nice, and I did. I gave it back to him and said, "You're being pretty generous giving away your coffee this morning. What's gotten into you that you're giving away your coffee all of a sudden?"
He said, "Well, the coffee was especially delicious this morning, and I figured if God gives you something good you ought to share it with people."
I figured, This is the perfect set up. I said, "Is there anything I can give you in return?" I'm sure he's going to hit me for five dollars.
He said, "Yeah, you can give me a hug."
I was hoping for the five dollars.
He put his arms around me. I put my arms around him. And I realized something. He wasn't going to let me go. He was holding onto me. Here I am an establishment guy, and this bum is hanging on me. He's hugging me. He's not going to let me go. People are passing on the street. They're staring at me. I'm embarrassed. But little by little my embarrassment turned to awe.
I heard a voice echoing down the corridors of time saying, I was hungry. Did you feed me? I was naked. Did you clothe me? I was sick. Did you care for me? I was the bum you met on Chestnut Street. Did you hug me? For if you did it unto the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you did it to me. And if you failed to do it unto the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you failed to do it unto me.2
Jesus? parable is a parable of how the kingdom of God will be.
He says it will be composed of people filled with the love and grace of God.
We can imagine ourselves not in the humorous story answering St. Peter's questions, but facing our Lord.
We say, "Lord we are here by your mercy."
He says, "Yes you accept my mercy, but did you allow it to fill you and possess your soul?"
Is God's loving compassion something you carry as a ticket, or does it have possession of your life?
A simple way to tell is ask yourself, "who are my brothers and sisters, and how do I treat them?"
Preached November 20, 2005
Dr. Harold McNabb
West Shore Presbyterian Church
Victoria, British Columbia
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Notes
1. Jim McGuiggan, Jesus, Hero of Thy Soul (Howard Publishing, 1998), p.15
2.Tony Campolo, "Year of Jubilee," Preaching Today (212)
Online Resources Consulted
http://www.preachingtoday.com/