“When Did We See You, Jesus?” A Sermon on Christ the King Sunday on Matthew 25:31-46

"When Did We See You, Jesus?"

Matthew 25:31-46

         Children on the playground pick teams. Littlefield folk sort ourselves into teams for feather bowling. Fans of the Harry Potter series can’t help thinking about the sorting hat. “Gryffindor! “Hufflepuff!” “Ravenclaw!” “Slytherin!”  A place for everyone and everyone in their place.

            As Jill Duffield points out, sorting has been part of human experience forever. “Before there were nations, there were tribes, different languages, different cultural practices, varied roles within the group, all designed to make sure people stayed in their lane.”[1]

           

            We may think we know all we need to know about the neighbor with the political yard sign that disagrees with our view. We sort people according to where they get their news.

            I think Jill Duffield could be right when she says we like being sorted.  It keeps things neater, less stressful. We don’t need to worry about being challenged, changed, or made uncomfortable. There have been some books written about this is recent years.  The Big Sort explores how a growing number of people have been segregating themselves, choosing to live in communities with others who share their views.[2] :  The more people confine themselves to likeminded company, the more extreme their views become, the more polarized society become.

            According to a 2014 Pew study of over 10,000 Americans, the most politically engaged on each side of the spectrum see those in the “other party” not just as wrong, but as “so misguided that they threaten the nation’s well-being. Compared to the past, each side also increasingly gets its news from its own television channels and websites. And so, the divide widens.[3]

            The scriptures tell us that God sorts, too.  Jesus talks about the sorting that will come at the end of the age.   Good fish and bad fish, separating the wheat from the chaff, the wheat and the weeds…good fruit from bad fruit. And, in today’s lesson, separating the sheep from the goats.

            The passage opens with a vivid description of the Son of Man’s coming in glory, seated on his throne. The nations are gathered and sorted into two groups. Jesus is portrayed as a shepherd, which is an image Matthew uses throughout his Gospel.

            In ancient Palestine, it was common to have mixed flocks. At night, the shepherd would have separated the sheep from the goats.  Sheep enjoyed the open air of the pasture, while goats had to be protected from the cold. Because sheep had more commercial value, they were preferred over goats. As shepherd, the glorious Son of Man now separates the sheep from the goats.[4]

            Today, some people sort themselves by choosing neighborhoods, churches and schools where people look like them, act like them, and don’t question their values and choices by their presence or viewpoints.     If we get to know somebody whose first language isn’t English, whose skin is a different color, who follows a different religious path, who votes differently, or who questions our church’s positions, if we form relationships and have honest and civil conversations with them, we need to acknowledge our prejudices and see the humanity in groups we have seen as “other.”  We need to learn how to talk about why we believe what we believe in a respectful and civil manner.  We need to listen when others share their experiences and beliefs. That’s hard work.

            A lot of people sort themselves to stay with people like themselves. But I don’t think God sorts like that. 

            So, what does this passage mean?  The way Matthew tells it, this is Jesus’ last formal act of teaching.  We hear that the Son of Man will separate the sheep and the goats. For the sheep, the news is good. They’re given a divine blessing and told they are the true heirs of God’s kingdom because they provided food, drink, hospitality, clothing, and care for the Son of Man. The goats were condemned because they did none of these acts of mercy.

            I wondered: is this a traditional morality tale about how those who do good deeds are rewarded    and those who don’t are punished?   Is that what this is?

           

            The sheep had no idea that, in their acts of compassion toward people in need, they were ministering to the Son of Man.  They were stunned and exclaimed, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and took care of you?” 

            The goats had no idea that, in their indifference, they were neglecting the Lord of all nations.  “When was it when we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and didn’t take care of you?”

            The surprising reply is that whenever they acted--or failed to act--in compassion to one of “the least”, they did so to Jesus Christ.

           

            So…where’s the good news in this parable?

            I was wondering about this when I read what a colleague wrote about how she visits her doctor every year for a complete physical examination. Much as she might want to avoid it, heart disease runs in her family, so she has a wellness exam. If her LDL cholesterol level is on the rise, she knows to cut down on the cookies and other treats and to add a few extra miles to her daily routine. If they would find a lump, she’d go in for more assessment and take steps needed to treat it, to regain her health, and ensure long-term wellness.

            In many ways, she says, Matthew’s depiction of the last judgment is like a wellness check. “Its purpose is not to condemn or scare, but to provide a snapshot of our overall health, development, learning, and growth that should lead to new habits and ways of life.  As our doctor wants us to flourish, so does our Creator, Redeemer, Judge, and King.”[5]

            As human beings, we all have a tendency to a kind of heart trouble that gets in the way of seeing the face of Christ in those in prison, the hungry and the sick.

            These words of Jesus are profound and radical. They challenge us as individuals when we encounter somebody asking for money in the grocery store parking lot or on the street. After all, we can’t help everyone. Most of us don’t have either the money or the time. Anyway, how do we tell who is truly needy and who simply wants money to buy drugs or a bottle of cheap wine?  

            We need to remember that this passage tells us that the nations will be judged by how compassionately--or not-- we treat those who are in need.

            God created the world out of an abundance of love.  God is love, and repeatedly and generously pours love out upon all people.   God sent Jesus to come and live among us, full of grace and truth, teaching and showing us what it means to be created in God’s image.

            In particular, we are called to love those are seem unable to give back. We are called to love our neighbors in need-- not to earn God’s love or to make sure we’re considered righteous at the time of judgment. We are called to give as a response to the love that is in us because God first loved us.

            Anne Lamott tweeted, "Who was it who said that to get into heaven, you needed a letter of recommendation from the poor? What a buzzkill."
            It may sound that way until you feed, clothe, visit, and welcome some of the least of these yourself. Then you realize they have as much dignity and humanity as anyone else. You begin to see that we are just as vulnerable to the ups and downs of life as they are, and our heart enlarges because of it.  Then you realize:  It's not really about charity-- it’s about conversion. 

            God is a God of surprises!  God came to be Immanuel--“God-with-us” -- in the form of a vulnerable infant.  God didn’t come to conquer the world with military or political might, but instead, in the scandal, shame, and pain of the cross.  God continues to come where we least expect God to be-- in the plight of the homeless, of refugees, on the side of the poor, in the company of those who are imprisoned.

            “When did we see you, Lord Jesus?”

            The good news is that God is with us, here and now, revealed to us in word and sacrament and in the fellowship of broken people we call church.  God is with us when we go out to embody God’s love in the world, especially when we meet God in acts of mercy and service.

            God is with us, touching our hearts with love, saving us from obsessing about ourselves and our needs   and encouraging us to search for the face of God in the faces of those in need. God is with us, teaching us to take joy in acts of compassion and mercy.

            Thanks be to God!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

November 26, 2017

           

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[1] Jill Duffield, “Looking Into the Lectionary: Christ the King Sunday, November 26, 2017”, in The Presbyterian Outlook. http://pres-outlook.org/category/ministry-resources/looking-into-the-lectionary/

[2] Bill Bishop and Robert G. Cushing, The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded Americans Is Tearing Us Apart. (Houghton Mifflin), 2008.

[3] Arlie Russell Hochschild, Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right (The New Press, 2016).

[4] Thomas D. Stegman, SJ, in Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 4: Season After Pentecost. Kindle version, Location 12013.

[5] Lindsay P. Armstrong, in Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 4: Season after Pentecost. Kindle version, Location 12022.

"When Did We See You?" A Sermon preached for the March 25 meeting of Presbytery of Detroit on Matthew 25.

"When Did We See you?"

Leviticus 19:34; Matthew 25:34-46

The Presbytery of Detroit has a new theme this year:  “The promotion of social righteousness.”[1] This is not a new thing.  In the past, Presbyterians and other Christians have promoted social righteousness in a variety of ways:  through involvement in the underground railroad and working for the abolition of slavery and for women’s suffrage.  Christians have fought for basic rights for workers, to eradicate poverty, and for civil rights. They did so because they believed that those who follow Jesus should act to advance the coming of the kingdom of God on earth, as it is in heaven.   This belief was grounded in their faith.

            In the early centuries of this nation’s history, slavery was a part of the American way of life, seen as a necessary part of agriculture and of the economy in the southern and northern parts of the country.  Legally, slaves were considered property and a major part of slave owners’ wealth. 

            The United States Constitution explicitly required that fugitives “from service or labor” must be delivered back to their owner.  By 1793, the first Fugitive Slave Act empowered slave owners or hired slave catchers to hunt down fugitive slaves and return them to their owners.  This was the social and legal context.

            In his book, Bound for Canaan,[2] Fergus Bordewich tells how ordinary people, black and white, slave and free, joined together to do what they believed was right in a movement of civil disobedience that challenged prevailing social mores and local and federal law.  This network of clandestine operators eventually became known as the Underground Railroad.

            As Bordewich writes, “Most members of the underground uncompromisingly regarded their work as answering only to a law higher and more sacred than those enacted by mere men….”

            Most of us know about Harriet Tubman. But there were many others who were part of the underground movement that carried as many as 100,000 fugitives to the far northern states and Canada. Bordewich estimates that the network of men and women who harbored or conducted fugitive slaves, plus those who assisted with food, clothing, and legal assistance, numbered more than 10,000. 

            One of the most celebrated stops in Underground Railroad history was Ripley, Ohio.  Hundreds of local people were involved in the resistance work, before the Rev. John Rankin and his family moved to Ripley in 1822. 

            As it evolved, the Underground network in the Ripley area had three components. There were Presbyterian ministers,  and there was the Chillicothe Presbytery that helped to connect the web of relationships that linked Ripley to other towns in southern Ohio.[3] 

            The second component included hundreds of activist abolitionists.

            The third component was a sizable population of free blacks.

            Rev. Rankin and his family built a house on top of Liberty Hill. They kept a lantern burning through the night as a beacon that could be seen from across the river, signaling slaves when it was safe to cross the river and guiding them as they made their crossing to the north side.

            The Fugitive Slave Law permitted slave owners to reclaim fugitive slaves, even if they were in a free state like Ohio.  When abolitionists sheltered runaway slaves, there was always the possibility that Federal marshals, hired slave-catchers, or local law enforcement officers could demand to search your property, and you could be arrested if they found that you were hiding fugitives. In spite of this, the people of the Ripley area kept many hundreds of fugitives safe until they could safely be moved on to the next station.

            Could it be any more clear that social righteousness is an essential part of our faith and how we show our love for God and neighbor?  The prophets proclaim very clearly how people of faith are to live, with justice and mercy and humility.”[4] 

            The Torah teaches that we are to love those who are foreigners and sojourners.[5]

            As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus, who taught that the most important commandment is to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  How we treat “the stranger” or “the other” is how we treat Jesus.

            So how are we called to live?  Is it right or moral or Christian to look the other way, to avoid seeing those who are hungry or oppressed or in danger? 

            Friends, we need to be praying about this.  We need to be studying the scriptures and our history. We need to remember how our nation operated out of fear when we turned away many Jewish refugees fleeing the Holocaust-- many of whom later perished in concentration camps. We need to be having holy conversations with one another about who we’re called to be… and what it means to have our ultimate citizenship in heaven.[6]  

            For each new time and context, we who follow Jesus need to discern prayerfully how we are called to live. Our faith challenges us to see the face of Christ in those who are “the least”…  those who need mercy and hospitality… those we might be tempted to fear because they are “strangers” to us.   

            We are tempted to live in fear.  If we choose the way of fear, there are those who will try to convince us that we need a bigger and stronger military, that we need to wage war to make peace, that we need more walls and prisons and guns to keep ourselves safe, that we need to keep people who are different out of our country.

            But our faith teaches us that “there is no fear in love... that perfect love drives out fear.”[7]

            Near the end of Matthew’s gospel, we hear Jesus teaching that the nations will be judged by how we treat those who are in need and those who are strangers. Those on the king’s right asked, “Lord, when was it that we saw you in need or a stranger and took care of you?” Those on the king’s left asked, 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?” And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me….Just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me….’”[8]

             The good news is that we are changed through our relationship with Jesus Christ, as he teaches us to see through eyes of love. We look around and see the face of Christ in those who are oppressed or strangers or in need, and that changes how we live.

            May we be found faithful as we live further into this blessed way of love and justice and mercy! So be it!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

Preached for the meeting of Presbytery of Detroit

March 25, 2017

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[1] This is one of “The Great Ends of the Church,” in our Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Order.

[2] Fergus M. Bordewich, Bound for Canaan:The Epic Story of the Underground Railroad, America’s First Civil Rights Movement. Amistad/HarperCollins Publishers, 2005.

[3] http://www.undergroundrailroadconductor.com/Ripley.htm

[4] Micah 6:8

[5] Leviticus 19:33; Deuteronomy 10:19

[6] Philippians 3:20

[7] 1 John 4:18

[8] Matthew 25:32-45

"What Does God Require?" A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Presbyterian Church.

"What Does God Require?"

Micah 6:1-8; Matthew 5:1-12

 

            The prophet Micah lived and prophesied during a time of political turmoil and transition, during the second half of the 8^th century BCE, in Judah.  Earlier in the book, Micah describes a kind of religiosity in which people, especially religious leaders, are making a public show of how pious they are, with loud lip service to God.[1]   It seems that the conventional religion of the time kept religious leaders self-satisfied and the powerful in power.  So for a messenger of God to speak prophetic words and proclaim judgment was a subversive act.

            In the reading we heard this morning, we’re told that “the Lord has a controversy with his people.”  We don’t get a list of the transgressions in these verses, but in chapter 3, Micah says to the corrupt rulers, “Should you not know justice?-- you who hate the good and love the evil, who tear the skin off my people, and the flesh off their ones…. Hear this, you rulers of the house of Jacob and chiefs of the house of Israel, who abhor justice and pervert all equity, who build Zion with blood and Jerusalem with wrong! Its rulers give judgment for a bribe, its priests teach for a price, its prophets give oracles for money.  Yet they lean upon the LORD and say, ‘Surely the LORD is with us! No harm shall come upon us.’”[2]

            So, in the passage we heard today, God and the people are involved in a dispute.  God is upset with the people and argues with them through the prophetic voice of Micah.  So, God summons “earthly” observers such as the mountains, hills, and earth’s foundations to listen to this dispute.
            In verses 3-5, God reminds the people of all the wonderful gifts God has provided and God’s actions for the sake of Israel.  It is a brief salvation history with God playing the role of liberator, savior, and provider.
            Basically, God says, “What have I done wrong? I am constantly saving you so that you will always remember my righteous deeds.”  
            Finally, in verses 6-8, the language of dispute is dropped, and we read a series of rhetorical question about what kinds of gifts God desires from us.  “With what shall we come before the Lord?”  Tell us, O God, what kinds of offerings you want from us.           
            God makes it clear what is good:  “Do justice.  Love mercy. Walk humbly with God.”

            This is pretty straightforward.  What’s harder, though, is to live into these requirements as God’s people.  What actions do these requirements call forth from us, as we look into our neighborhoods, into our cities, our nation, and the world?

           

            We look around us today, and we see people who are hurting.  Some people are resentful because they feel like immigrants or people of color are “jumping the line” to get the opportunities they feel are their right.  Someone with a high school diploma or a GED used to be able to get a good job and live a comfortable life, but those opportunities for have been disappearing in this time of globalization and automation.  For some people, if something’s wrong in your life, it’s handy to have a scapegoat you can blame it on.  Somebody who’s different from you-- someone who’s “other.”

            A lot of people are anxious and afraid.  People are afraid of what will happen if they or a loved one gets sick.  Those who are food insecure are afraid they won’t be able to put food on the table for their loved ones.  Some people are so afraid of terrorist attacks they’re willing to cut off access for refugees from Syria an elsewhere and for Muslim immigrants.  The list could go on and on….

            So what are we called to do, as people of faith?

           

            Last Tuesday evening Emily N. and I attended the January meeting of the Presbytery of Detroit.  The January meeting is when the Moderator and Vice-Moderator are installed for the new year, and we come together to celebrate the Lord’s Supper as a presbytery.  An important part of the meeting was a presentation by the Rev. Kevin Johnson and the Rev. Bryan Smith on the theme for the coming year, which is one of the Great Ends of the Church in our Presbyterian Book of Order: “The promotion of social righteousness.” 

            The Great Ends of the Church were adopted in 1910 by one the Presbyterian Church(USA)’s predecessor denominations, just two years after the Federal Council of Churches in the United States (the predecessor of the National Council of Churches, adopted the Social Creed of the Churches, in 1908.  This was in an era when the main character of Charles Sheldon’s best-selling novel, In His Steps challenged his congregation to ask themselves before every decision, “What would Jesus do?”  

            The Presbyterian Church has long been a Christian community that values both personal and public/social morality.  The Great Ends of the Church is a summary of what the church is called to be and why we exist: “the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind; the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God; the maintenance of divine worship; the preservation of the truth; the promotion of social righteousness; and the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.”

            The scripture lessons today and through the season of Epiphany challenge us to live our faith in ways that promote social righteousness and exhibit the kingdom of heaven on earth.  (Tune in next week for Isaiah 58 and more from the Sermon on the Mount.)

            In the past, Presbyterians have promoted social righteousness through involvement in the underground railroad and working for the abolition of slavery and for women’s suffrage.  Presbyterians have fought for basic rights for workers, to eradicate poverty, and for civil rights.   They did so because they believed that those who follow Jesus should act to advance the coming of the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.   Their belief was grounded in our scriptures.

           

            Luke tells us that after Jesus was baptized and was tested for forty days in the wilderness, Jesus went to his hometown synagogue in Nazareth and read from the prophet Isaiah:  “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor.”  Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”  People were amazed at Jesus’ teaching until he said something that made them feel uncomfortable.  Then they tried to throw him over the cliff.[3]

            Near the end of Matthew’s gospel, we hear Jesus teaching that the nations will be judged by how we treat those who are marginalized.  I’m going to pause here to say that again:  The nations will be judged by how we treat those who are marginalized. 

            “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 foundation 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….’”[4]

            Could it be any more clear that doing justice and acting mercifully are an essential part of our faith and how we show our love for God and neighbor?  So what does this requirement look like for us, in our time?

            For each new time and context, we who follow Jesus must prayerfully discern how we are called to live.  When we study the scriptures and pray, we are challenged to see the face of Christ in those who are “the least,” those in need of mercy and hospitality, those we might be tempted to fear because they are “strangers” to us. 

            One of the things that’s weighing on my heart especially this weekend is the indefinite hold on admitting refugees who have fled Syria and elsewhere, people who have been in a vetting process that lasts 2 or 3 or more years.  I think about several of my friends who have family in Iran and how it could be a very long time until they can see one another face-to-face. 

            In Deuteronomy 10:19 in the Hebrew scriptures, we are taught that we are to love those who are foreigners, “for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.”   In Leviticus 19:33, we hear: “When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.”

            So what do we do with these teachings?  How are we called to live?  Is it right or moral or Christian to choose personal comfort and safety and look the other way to avoid seeing those who are hurting or oppressed or in danger or hungry or locked out?  I think we need to be praying about this.  We need to be studying the scriptures and history and remembering how our nation decided to operate out of fear and turned away ships carrying Jewish refugees fleeing the Holocaust, many of whom perished in concentration camps.  We need to be and listening to “the voices of those long silenced” and having holy conversations with one another about who we’re called to be and why we’re here.

            We need to remember that the Gospel is a word of protest.  The Beatitudes are blessings, but they are also a call to action that point us to who Jesus is.  If we listen, we may hear the truth about ourselves.  We will hear what the Kingdom of Heaven is about. 

            This can be scary for some of us.  For some, it may seem inconvenient to hear new truths that call us to change.   But we can live into new adventures in faith with hope when we trust in God’s Holy Spirit to lead us further into God’s way of love. 

            I love the way our Brief Statement of Faith puts it:  “In a broken and fearful world, the Spirit gives us courage to pray without ceasing, to witness among all peoples to Christ as Lord and Savior, to unmask idolatries in Church and culture, to hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom and peace.”

            I invite you all-- us all-- to spend some time re-reading these sacred and transformative texts in the coming week.  I pray that we might all find both challenge and blessing in Jesus’ words from the Sermon on the Mount: 

            “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

            Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 

            Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

            Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.  

            Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

            Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

            Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”[5]

           

 May we be found faithful as we live into this blessed way of love and justice and mercy!  Amen!

           

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

January 29, 2017

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[1] Micah 3.

[2] Micah 3

[3] Isaiah 61; Luke 4:16-30.

[4] Matthew 2532-40

[5] Matthew 5:1-12

 

 

"When Did We See You, Jesus?" Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Matthew 25:31-46 on Christ the King Sunday

 

"When Did We See You, Jesus?"

Matthew 25:31-46

Today’s Gospel lesson is sometimes known as the parable of “the sheep and the goats”…  or as “the last judgment.”

            The passage we heard today is Jesus’ last formal act of teaching, and it sums up the major theological themes of Matthew’s gospel by presenting a majestic picture of the triumphant Jesus reigning in glory as king and judge at the end of time.  The Jesus who earlier in the gospel “had nowhere to lay his head” is now seated on the royal throne as king.  Jesus who was rejected even by his hometown is now exalted as the judge. 

            The Son of Man pronounces judgment on the sheep and the goats.  For the sheep—the righteous-- the news is good.  They’re given a divine blessing and told they will inherit the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world.  To those at his left hand he will say “depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

Now, some people might hear this as a story meant to scare us into being righteous.  But if we interpret it that way, we might miss Jesus' plea for us to see.

Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty and give you something to eat or drink?  When did we see you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?  When did we see you sick or in prison and visited you?"           

Jesus makes it clear that we will not literally see him. We will see or fail to see him in "the least of these" brothers and sisters in our midst. Jesus longs for us to see.  But seeing—really seeing—isn’t easy. 

Some might say that we've seen too much—too many photos of Syrian refugee children living in wretched conditions… too many people living in extreme poverty in Africa or Haiti… too many people lined up on the sidewalk waiting for the soup kitchen to open in our cities.

Some say we've been desensitized, our capacity for compassion short-circuited and overloaded.  We tell ourselves that our guilt won't feed anybody. Yet, the truth is that thousands of people who may have never thought much about hunger have been moved to donate money for food and medical supplies after seeing pictures on the news.  Seeing the people and seeing their needs can change peoples' hearts.

I think we’re seeing an increase in fear and distrust of people who are different.  We’ve been hearing some public officials and candidates for office wanting to put the brakes on welcoming Syrian refugees  and talking about special security tracking and ID’s for Muslims and building big walls on our borders. 

Yesterday the Presbytery of Detroit considered a motion from First Presbyterian Church in Ann Arbor to communicate with our elected officials, to tell them our faith calls us to welcome immigrants and that we want to give support to Syrian refugees in our country.  Although the motion passed, we heard in the debate a real mix of compassion and hospitality—and also fear.

 We’ve heard different political, financial, and logistical reasons for not welcoming refugees to the United States.   But no biblical or theological or faith reasons. 

When did we see you, Lord?

Whether we call the adversary Satan or the devil or evil or something else, I believe Satan wants to divide humanity and to instill hatred, and distrust.   We’re  tempted to demonize innocent people and falsely accuse them of being violent, evil, and dangerous.  We’re tempted to do nothing, to protect ourselves, and to withhold the love of Christ. 

When did we see you?   We learn to look away from the homeless person or quickly maneuver around the man who’s holding out his cup for donations.   We keep our distance.   Maybe we try not to see those people.  

Those people.  Human beings created in God’s divine image.  Individuals who are deeply loved by God.   Those people.

If Christians refuse to accept and help refugees, we are ignoring, misinterpreting, or even rejecting Jesus’ teachings and a variety of other texts throughout the Bible.[1]   Whether we like it or not, those who follow Jesus are called to help the world’s most abused, marginalized, helpless, exploited, and destitute.  We are called to glorify Christ through selfless sacrifice, hospitality, and love.

In an article published this week at Sojourners, Stephen Mattson asks:  “Imagine if Jesus limited his ministry based upon the conditions of comfort and security.”[2] 

Imagine it.  As Mattson imagines it, “There would be no traveling through Samaria—too hazardous.  No interacting with foreigners—too dangerous.  No helping strangers—too risky.  No healing the sick—too unsafe.  No attracting crowds—to insecure.  No performing miracles—too perilous.  No public speaking—too unprotected.  No giving to the poor—too wasteful.  No interacting with outcasts—to socially unacceptable.  No disciples—too untrustworthy.  No generosity—generosity—too wasteful.  No grace—too weak.  No forgiveness—too soft.  No death on the cross—too painful (to say the least). 

“If Jesus used the same stipulations for love that we do, the gospel never would have existed, because almost every single experience Jesus put himself  in required risk, sacrifice, and vulnerability.  And instead of being fueled by fear, Jesus was fueled by hope.”[3]

“When did we see you, Jesus?”

In a recent letter to the Presbyterian Church, our Stated Clerk, Gradye Parson, asks us to “Choose welcome, not fear.”[4]   Gradye  recognizes that we are a world grieving, following the most recent terrorist attacks, but we can choose how to react in our grief and fear. 

If we hear today’s gospel lesson as something to make us feel guilty… to get us to do what we should—we may not hear it as good news. 

But I believe today’s lesson is part of Jesus’ call to new life, a call to a new relationship with God, a new way to practice religion, and a call to follow Jesus in the way of love.  I think Jesus is trying to get us to think about what’s important in the Kingdom of God.

 Jesus wants us to know that God is here with us, in the messiness and ambiguities and fears of human life.  God is here, in your neighbor, in the one who needs you.  Do you want to see the face of God?  Look into the face of one of the least of these—the vulnerable, the weak, the stranger.  We are called to live in a community based on the God-given dignity and value of every human being.   

            In Matthew’s description of the final judgment, there’s not one word about believing certain things or following special religious practices.  We will be judged by whether or not we see Christ in the face of those in need and whether or not you give yourself away in love, in Christ’s name.

            God wants to save us by touching our hearts with love.  God wants to save us by teaching us to see the face of Christ in the faces of strangers and those in need and persuading us to care about them.  God wants to save us from obsessing about our own needs and safety and fears and free us to live in compassion and hope.

            On Christ the King Sunday,   we meditate on God’s power and the reign of God.  We look forward to Advent, a time when we ponder the mystery of the incarnation:  God embodied in a helpless baby born in a humble stable…    God on the cross, dying, in sacrificial, self-giving love. These are images of a very vulnerable God.   This is a very different kind of king, with a different kind of power.

            As we move through Advent, we practice waiting.  We hope.  And we ponder the mystery of a God so in love with us that he came to be one of us.  He came into the world as a baby, a love-child, in whom God shows us just how far God will go to save us, and heal us, and set us free.

            Come, Lord Jesus!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church 

Dearborn, Michigan

November 22, 2015

           

             

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[1] Jeremiah 22:3-5; Zechariah 7:8-10; Isaiah 16:4; Matthew 25:34-40; Hebrews 13:1-2; James 2:5

[2] Stephen Mattson, “Rejecting Refugees, Rejecting Christ.  https://sojo.net/print/217698

[3] Mattson.

[4] Gradye Parson, “Choose welcome, not fear.” http://www.pcusa.org/news/2015/11/17/choose-welcome-not-fear/