The Least of These

A sermon for Christ the King Sunday, based on Matthew 25:31-46.

Would you pray with me?

God who gathers us all together, thank you for bringing us to this time and this place. By your Spirit, make your presence known here today. And may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable to you, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.

Have I ever told y’all the best question I ever got asked when I was working at the planetarium? I probably have at one point or another, because I love to talk about it. The best question I ever got asked when I was working at the planetarium was, “Can you ride a bike on the Moon?” The girl who asked it, her classmates laughed at her, but I quieted them down because this is such an amazing question. It’s so complicated. You have to ask yourself first how bikes work on Earth, about the gravity and friction and energy needed to propel and maneuver a bike, and then you have to ask about how the conditions on the Moon differ and what changes you’d have to make to a bike’s design in order to make it work on the Moon. And then there’s the question of whether an astronaut in a space suit can ride a bike at all, and then last but not least, there’s the question of how to design a bike that both fits into the space capsule and is durable enough to withstand the greater radiation materials on the Moon have to endure due to its almost non-existent atmosphere. This is an amazing question, because all of those other questions are nestled inside of it and as you answer each of these nested questions, you learn more and more about what life on the Moon would be like. It’s the best question I was ever asked when I worked at the planetarium.

And Sam, on Wednesday, asked another couple of great questions, about our two passages this morning in particular. They were great in the same way the Moon bike question is great—nestled into these questions are other questions that teach us more than we would have thought to ask in the first place. We delved into the history and I got to talk about King Jehoiakim, who was followed by King Jehoiachin, who only reigned for like 3 months before he was replaced by Zedekiah, who started out being a Babylonian puppet king, but then chose to rebel on his own, which… didn’t end up great for him in the end. But we got to talk about why Israel ends up being attacked by so many empires and about why the time that Ezekiel is prophesying in is so important in Israel’s history and as you all know by now, I love this stuff. I think it makes the Bible come to life. So, of course, I loved all of Sam’s questions on Wednesday, and the Bible study group on Thursday got to hear me talk about all of this again. It’s like watching the History Channel, if a show was hosted by a young woman in her 30s who was super excited about ancient Near Eastern politics, but had no graphics whatsoever.

But it was a comment of Sam’s that really got me thinking about today’s sermon. We were reading this parable about the sheep and the goats and he said, “I hear people quoting verse 40 a lot.” Now, verse 40, if you don’t have it right in front of you, is the “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for the least of this, you did it to me” verse. Sam’s comment made me think about why people quote this verse so often, and I think it’s because it gives us a clear goal: care for the least of these. But that leads me to another question. Who are the least of these?

So often, when I think of this passage, I think of the litany that Jesus gives, “I was hungry and you gave me food, thirsty and you gave me something to drink, a stranger and you invited me in, naked and you clothed me, sick or in prison and you visited me.” I think of the hungry and thirsty, the stranger and the naked, the sick and the prisoner. These to me are the least of these. These are the ones who Jesus says we are to care for. These are the ones in whom we see the face of God.

But Jesus is, in fact, talking about a different set of people. There’s overlap, to be sure, but just being a little hungry does not automatically make you “the least of these.” So what does Jesus mean when he talks about the least of these?

Well, to get at what Jesus is talking about, we actually have to look back, at the Old Testament. Remember that Matthew wrote his gospel for a primarily Jewish audience, so Matthew’s gospel plays up the Jewish-ness of Jesus’ teachings. Jesus’ moral imagination, the way he looks at the world, the way he imagines what the world could be, it’s very Jewish. He’s got his own unique spin on it, of course, but it’s very Jewish all the same. And so it makes sense, especially with this parable found only in Matthew’s gospel, that we would need to turn back to the Jewish scriptures in order to get some context for it.

Luckily for us, the lectionary pairs our parable with this passage from Ezekiel. Now, if you have your bibles in front of you, you can flip to Ezekiel and look at the earlier part of the chapter, just before the section we read, but if not, I’ve got it handy. We find in the beginning of Ezekiel 34 that Ezekiel is speaking to the shepherds of Israel, by which he means the kings. Ezekiel is known for his powerful imagery. This is the book with the valley of dry bones, of the earthquake, wind, fire, and the still small voice of God. Ezekiel has this profound description of God leaving the Temple, going out from the Holy of Holies through the temple courts, up off the Temple Mount, and out of Jerusalem, just before the Babylonians attack. Ezekiel is good at images, so it’s no wonder that he’d be able to use this powerful image of shepherds and sheep to get his point across.

Ezekiel rails against the kings of Israel, calling them shepherds who feed themselves but not the sheep, who shear the sheep and make their own clothes, but leave the sheep without any protection, who don’t bother to bind up and care for the sheep when they’re injured, who allow the sheep to be attacked by wild beasts. But Ezekiel also has words for the powerful people in Israel who aren’t the kings later in the chapter, in the passage we read. Ezekiel talks about the goats, the rams, and the fat sheep, these other livestock who the shepherd allowed to torment the rest of the sheep. Ezekiel condemns both the shepherds who didn’t care for the sheep and allowed for terrible things to happen to them, but he also condemns those who participated in the terrible things.

Now, this is something that the prophets do all the time in the Old Testament. They criticize the people in power for not caring for the people they have power over. They also criticize those who are taking advantage of other people, those who aren’t caring for their neighbors as they should. And the criticism can get harsh. Like, God’s-gonna-smite-you levels of harsh. But, just like Jesus does in these parables in Matthew 25, the prophets mean these criticisms and warnings as a wake-up call. Things aren’t going well for those lean sheep and soon, things won’t be going well for anyone. Something’s gotta give.

So now, jump forward to Jesus. Who are the lean sheep in Jesus’ day, the ones who should be cared for by the shepherd but instead were being starved and beaten down? Well, Judea had a king in Jesus’ day, Herod, and Judea also had a Roman governor, Pilate, both of whom Jesus would be encountering in just a few days after he told this parable, if they heard what he was saying, they wouldn’t miss the criticism he had for them. Herod and Pilate were both keeping the almost all of people of Judea in poverty so that they could stay powerful and comfortable. The few who did have some money were like those goats and rams and fat sheep in Ezekiel’s prophesy. They trampled over others in order to keep what they had. For Jesus, the distinction is clear: there are those who have money and power and there are those who don’t, and the ones who don’t are the least of these.

Well, that opens the door wide for us Christians today, as we seek to follow Jesus and to care for the least of these like he says in the parable, because we know now that there are all different kinds of power, spread out among different people. There are those in power because they have a political office, sure, but there are also bosses and parents and principals and all sorts of authoritative people making decisions. Goodness, even a customer at a store can have plenty of power if they decide to ask to speak to the manager. Plus, as people from around here, as people from Appalachia, we also know that there are all different levels of poor. We know that the least of these can be found in all sorts of different situations.

Now, we already do plenty of good work following Jesus in these tasks that he’s set out for us. We are good at feeding the hungry. We are good at providing clothes for those who need it. We are good at meeting the financial needs of those who have come up short when bills are due. When we have extra to give, we give it. We’re definitely sheep-like already and I give thanks to God for the work we do every day.

But something still tingles in my mind with this parable. It’s a wake-up call. We know that. We know that because Jesus is following in the footsteps of Ezekiel and other prophets and because the other parables in this chapter are wake-up calls too. So when we read this parable today, when we hear this parable again today, we face the same question: what is Jesus calling us to wake up to? What are we missing? Who are the least of these who we’re not seeing?

I have a friend who’s a pastor in Pennsylvania who was helping out a Hispanic family in town one day when he had to step out and take a phone call from a congregant. When he told them what he was doing, his church member said, “That can’t be true! There aren’t any Hispanic people in our town!” And my friend had to laugh as he said, “Well, tell that to them, because I’m at their house right now!”

It’s a funny example, but it points to something that’s true for all of us. We don’t always see what’s right in front of us. We’re not awake to it, for one reason or another. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You can’t help what you don’t know and I truly believe that Jesus will only hold us accountable for what we know. But in this parable, Jesus is calling us to wake up to what we don’t yet know. After all, it’s the goats who say to Jesus, “We didn’t know! We didn’t know it was you!”

If this parable teaches us anything at all, it teaches us that on the last day, we don’t want to get caught not knowing. We want to get caught trying.

Friends, this winter will bring us many challenges to work through. I know and trust that we will work through those challenges and that we will make to spring. I have no doubt in my mind. We will continue to pray, to worship, to love one another, and to help wherever we can, no matter how difficult the situation. But when spring comes, we will be given, we will be entrusted with many new opportunities to spread the love of Jesus around this community and around the world, and we need to be prepared to be faithful with what we’re given.

Next week is the first Sunday of Advent. It’s a time of preparation, a time of waiting, and for us, this year, it’s a time of dreaming. Holy dreaming, like Mary and Joseph do, like Jesus does. With holy dreaming comes wisdom and knowledge. Holy dreaming opens our eyes, shows us what’s there and shows us what’s possible. This is the perfect Advent for some holy dreaming.

As we go into the days and weeks ahead, I want us to approach this winter with hearts ready to dream. Where will God lead us next? Where are there least of these in our community waiting for us to reach out? Who is God calling to join us in our worship and ministry? What does God have in store for us? What does our dream church look like? What do we long for God to do here, in this place, in this community? And, the most difficult question: Where will we need to step out in faith for God to make these dreams come true?

Friends, I invite you, as you go into the world this week, to keep your eyes and minds open and keep your hearts ready for dreams. Pray for God to show you what you might not know yet. And most of all, pay attention to the least of these. They might be in places you haven’t expected to find them.

Amen.