Morning Prayer: Tom Lyda Choral Amen Hymn of Faith *All Who Hunger Gather Gladly* Witness of Scripture: Matthew 25: 31-40 Anthem *O Worship the King* arr. Barbara Baltzer Kinyon. Chancel Choir Sermon *What Matters Most* David Spain
Recorded on November 26, 2023
Today, we come to the last Sunday on the church calendar year—it is called Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday. As Christian festivals go, it is a relative newcomer, having been established in 1925 in the wake of World War I and in response to the alarming rise of nationalism on the one hand and a growing indifference to the church on the other hand. Pope Pius XI declared the aim of his papacy to be ‘the re-establishment of the kingdom of Christ by peace in Christ.” It was a call to the church and society to focus its fidelity on Christ as ruler not various earthly powers as ruler. Now almost 100 years later, that call remains essential, not simply because human rulers and economic systems often demand ultimate loyalty, but because more importantly the church knows what and who one worships will give shape to why and how one lives. Amidst all that seeks to lay claim on us, this Sunday the church proclaims Christ as Pantocrator, which is to say Ruler of the world—even more boldly, Ruler of the universe.
Christianity, as we know, has a variety of expressions. There are denominational differences,
Protestant and Catholic approaches, Eastern and Western perspectives—and within each of these unique expressions there are stylistic differences. And yet, in America public opinion tends to see Christianity primarily as focused on believing correctly, following certain requirements and receiving certain rewards, having the correct understanding of the Bible (and with some even belonging to the right church), and most importantly assuring one’s spot in the afterlife—which is achieved by believing, behaving and belonging correctly.To some extent, this perspective is reinforced by expressions of Christianity that emphasize the hereafter more than the here and now.
To be sure the Bible speaks of life after this life—heaven or eternal life as it is variously named. Paul’s letters comment on the next life and the book of Revelation employs imaginative imagery. With Jesus, according to the Gospels, he certainly speaks of heavenly days; however, his primary focus is on life’s earthly days. After all, the prayer he gave his disciples to pray does not say “Lord, help me get all these people to heaven.” Instead, Jesus prays, and teaches us to pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Even so, some expressions of Christianity continue to place more emphasis on the afterlife than the earthly life, an emphasis often disproportionate to Jesus’ focus.
How interesting, therefore, that on this day when as Matthew’s gospel story says all the nations are gathered before the throne of Christ in a way apparently much different from the Tempter’s offer to Christ three years earlier to rule the world by bowing to Old Scratch—the parable Jesus tells directs our attention away from some celestial palatial setting and toward our existing earthly environs. The nations are gathered around Christ, but look where Christ sends them all.
This parable, another in a long line of stark parables Matthew tells, is told with familiar images from Jesus’ day. It was not uncommon for sheep and goats to forage in the same pastures. At the end of the day however, shepherds would gather their flocks, and because sheep and goats were tended to differently at night (goats needing more shelter from the cold than sheep), they were separated.It was not particularly difficult, since their colors differed. Informing our response to this parable, we remember that this separation is not punishment but protection.
In the Mount Rushmore of parables, this one is almost as well known as The Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son. Any mention of the phrase “the least of these” calls to mind this story even if people are not wholly familiar with this story. In fact, there is a foundation called the “The Least of These” whose purpose is to help those who are struggling. However, like its more famous counterparts, the popular name can misdirect its emphasis. The Prodigal Son is more about the Prodigal Parent and the Good Samaritan is more about “Being Neighbor.” This last parable in Matthew’s gospel has been called “The Last Judgment” or “The Final Exam.” If this is that kind of parable, then the good news is Jesus has given all the answers.If this is the final judgment, then it is an open book test, and Jesus is the great read. With that in mind, this parable seems more appropriately entitled the parable of “What Matters Most.”
We note several moves in this parable. Lest anyone is inclined to crow about being placed to Jesus’ right, please notice the sheep on the right are as clueless as the goats on the left. Each asks the same question—“When did we see you?”Who knows why Jesus told the parable this way? Perhaps this is almost a humorous nod toward his experience with his own disciples, who despite all the light Jesus shed on them, seem to remain rather dim bulbs at discipleship. Perhaps Jesus is saying faith is less about doctrine and more about doctoring; less about belief and more about abiding; less about orthodoxy and more about orthopraxy.
To be sure there is a creative tension within the parable, for the images can be used to promote a kind of works righteousness understanding of faith—that we have to do certain things in order to be gathered among the sheep. We know how quickly this perspective deteriorates into an unending terror, for how much good must be done in order to be in the favored flock? Despite certain religions claiming such a formula exists, this parable is not a prescription for getting into heaven. At the same time, the parable proclaims that what happens on earth matters, for God is not distant and indifferent but immanent and involved.Heaven cares about earth, and how we care for each other. This matters to God so much that, as we are about to celebrate beginning next Sunday, God gifts a fully human and fully divine child to this world who teaches to us and models for us what matters most.
The parable in its brilliance is something of a paradox—redirecting any questions about one’s ultimate future to focus instead on living faithfully, courageously, lovingly now. To that end, the parable reminds us that from the founding of the world we are meant to care, to relate, to help, to encourage, to nurture, to heal, to redeem, to renew, to reconcile, to restore. Furthermore, in a liberating gift, the parable reminds us that Jesus is King and we are not. Sadly, this has not kept humans from presuming they are Jesus’ advisors on ultimate matters or even worse trying to usurp the throne at times; so the parable reminds us that human schemes, human mansions, human empires come to their ends in one way or another. It is Jesus’s reign that endures, and we are invited to be ambassadors, to be disciples of that benevolence, of that compassion, of that way of ruling. This is our role to play, and this says the parable is what both now and ultimately matters most. The great irony, the great paradox proclaimed in the parable is that the Ruler of the universe is known not in the halls of privilege and power, but in the least and the little and the lonely, and we as Christ’s disciples are to direct our lives as Christ directs his life.
What, according to the parable, is Christ’s direction? He does not direct the assembled to focus on celestial quarters nor even in endless accolades of adoration. To be in the presence of Christ is not to be removed from this world but to be engaged in this world. What kind of Ruler is Christ? Who is this we worship and emulate? He is the One found not in the throne room but in the barrio; not in the palace but in the imperiled; less in the satiated and more in the suffering; less in the finely appointed and more in the raggedly adorned; not only in the mainstream but especially in the margins; not only in the legitimized but especially in the disenfranchised. If we want to be in the presence of Christ, the parable proclaims go to these kinds of places because Christ is there whether we know it or not. Contrary to a faith that looks only heavenward, Jesus says to look for him not in streets of gold but in neighborhoods of need. Fleming Rutledge, in a writing entitled ‘Royalty stoops,’ said it this way—“The Son of God who ‘sits upon his glorious throne with all the nations gathered before him’ is the same one who, at the very apex of his cosmic power, reveals that the universe turns upon a cup of water given to the littlest ones in his name.” (The Christian Century, November 10, 1999)
So, on this last day of the Church calendar year, as we seek to summarize the essence of our faith, Jesus’ parable comes to us less as warning and more as inspiring; less as judgment and more as vocation; less as finality and more as continuity for Christ never asks us to do what he has not already done and is continuing to do. We need not strive to get up to an inaccessible Christ; instead, we engage the accessible Christ in acts of mercy and expressions of love. The parable directs us not in fear of ultimate days but toward compassion in these days. The parable proclaims we are invited to be harbingers of God’s reign come to earth as it is in heaven. Thanks be to God, the scales have been graciously tipped in our favor, because our favor is to be earthen vessels of God’s love here and now, which matters forever and ever.
Can we miss that? Apparently so, according to the parable and it stands to reason that God’s love invites and courts but does not demand or control. So, despite his being so pervasively present in the world, it is possible to miss the Christ, and that, as the parable suggests is to live es estranged and distant from God. And yet, that is not the parable’s focus. As John Claypool wrote, “the parable is not to scare the hell out of us, but rather to inspire us to grow in the direction of heavenly joy…we are the sons and daughters of [God’s] gift of love. We do not do the acts described in the parable to earn God’s love. We do them finally because that is who we are—it is our true nature to give such love.” (Parables Jesus Still Tells, p. 148, 151)
You may have heard that when it comes to developing your argument or making your case, it is best to leave your most important point to the last. Jesus, in this last story before his last days, does just that.Thanks be to God he tell us what matters most.