31 "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. 32
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, 33 and he
will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. 34 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 foundation of the world; 35 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, 36 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.'
37 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? 38 And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you,
or naked and gave you clothing? 39 And when was it that we saw you sick
or in prison and visited you?' 40 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.'
41 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; 42 for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was
thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 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.'
44 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?' 45 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.' 46 And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the
righteous into eternal life."
***
I don’t particularly like the idea of God separating us
sheep from goats, but I am thankful for a God who plays an even hand, and tells
it like it is. I am thankful for Jesus in this passage, who makes the effort to
let people know how they’ve affected him. I am thankful because, sometimes,
both the warnings and the callings out, the bravos and the appreciations, are
exactly what we need to hear.
This weekend I helped a friend drive a car from Texas to L.A.
By the end of the long drive, I had had one of those, “Alexander, and the No
Good, Horrible, Very Bad Days,” or rather couple days, and like Alexander in
that children’s book, everything between my friend and I seemed to stack up. It
had started off badly with changed expectations, a lack of communication, and
an instance of underlying hurt, which only snowballed as the days progressed.
Have you been on trips like this? It is called being human, It’s what happens
when you are in relationship. This weekend’s issue had the classic formula of
trying not to make a big deal of something little, until the little things
added up to became a big deal, and I realized the first small thing was big
enough. It could be a small thing to give someone clothing when they are naked,
food when they are hungry, care when they are sick, but it becomes a big thing
when you are the naked, the hungry, or the sick, a big thing to be denied, and
a big thing to be given. I think Jesus gets this and is showing us how to have
that hard conversation.
Jesus tells the people, “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.” Jesus, after pages of parables, is here telling us
straight. He leaves no wiggle room for misunderstanding, both of the incident,
and of his feelings. Jesus says, When you did nothing, I felt hungry, thirsty,
naked, unwelcomed, and uncared for. In communication, these are often called,
“I statements.” They begin, “When you ____, I felt____.” They are used to
get beyond defensiveness and into understanding of one another’s
feelings. Jesus is using those I statements, and modeling for us the importance
of speaking our pain and anger. I wonder how often do we have this same courage
to say how we were hurt, and what we really need? How often instead, do we bury
those hurts, and call them small? How often do we expect someone to visit, or
call, or write, and because they didn’t we write them off? How often do we tell
a third party of our hurt or frustration, instead of letting the offender know
the offense, and the pain?
It is not an easy thing to do. What is at stake is sharing
how you feel, and still feeling unheard. What is at stake is asking for food
and walking away hungry. What is at stake is possibly accepting the reality
that we may truly be unwelcomed. But to assume such things, or denies the
possibility of being wrong. Jesus says, “You did not do it to me.' 46 And
these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal
life.” Sometimes when our need for care goes unsaid, we end up in a hell
of our own making and our own assuming. The people say, “When was it that you
were hungry and I gave you no food?” They did not realize what they weren’t
doing. And isn’t it this way most of the time. The offense was never intended,
and often unrealized. My friend had no idea how I was feeling, until I told
her. Making me feel like a third wheel was the last thing she intended. I think
we are like this. People don’t intend to hurt. Sometimes we just need to be
told we have hurt. Sometimes we just need to let people know we are hurt. But
this is not all of it.
There is a flip side, sometimes we need to tell people how
they have fed us. At the end of the long Alexander and the No Good Day Car
Trip, I saw my long time friend Liam. He sensed that things were rough and
stole me away to the ocean. Seagulls and sandpipers glowed white like neon,
bobbing upon the night darkened deep. I waded and played, jumping and swimming
up to my legs in the cold breaking Pacific surf. Under the street lights of
Route 1, absinth colored crests, cloudy and blue green, met the shore, and met
me equally electrified. Liam, warm in long sleeves and leather saddle oxfords
watched me as I imagine parents watch their children play.
I ran, feet on wet sand coming in, and then he pointed out
the seals, and I swam again adjoined by two seals’ shadowed silhouettes. My
excitement was mirrored by gratitude toward an old friend who knew the antidote
in patterned waves. Thankful, ever so thankful I texted him in detail my
thanks. I don’t think Liam will ever know how his detour altered my trip. His
response was, “no problem.” It was a little thing to him, but it was big thing
to me. I was fed, with my favorite food, when I was so hungry. And this
too is what Jesus models. Jesus models saying,
“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.'
When you ____, I felt ____. Jesus says. How often do we take
the time to tell someone how what they did affected us. How often do we risk
perhaps sounding cheesy, or putting ourselves out there, or being
misunderstood.
And like Liam, the response is, “When was it that I gave you
food or drink, clothing, or welcomed you, and visited you.”
In the airport as I waited for my plane back a woman told me
she was going her mother dying of cancer. This is what happens when you are
pastor on plane. People download their stories. But in the midst of a brief
conversation she said, “I think God put you right here next to me for just
this.” It made me feel like she could see God through me. ….
Sometimes when how we received care goes unsaid, we
miss letting someone know how they’ve prepared the kingdom.
I am thankful for Jesus in this passage, who makes the
effort to let people know how they’ve affected him. I am thankful because,
sometimes, both the warnings and the callings out, the bravos and the
appreciations, are exactly what we need to hear. Sometimes when how we received
care goes unsaid, we miss letting someone know how they’ve prepared the
kingdom. Sometimes when our need for care goes unsaid, we end up in a
hell of our own making and our own assuming.
