Matthew 25: 31–46
|
Lord, may we hear your voice in the words spoken in your name. Amen.
|
The other day I heard a phrase I’d never heard before. The phrase
was “Indigo Children,” and it’s used to describe
children who see things that adults around them can’t see – like
angels standing by peoples’ shoulders. Or, they sense things no
one else seems to sense – like the presence of a beloved grandmother
who died years before, now coming back to encourage the child.
|
Now, I don’t know what you make of such reports – whether you
believe them or disbelieve them. Modern science simply calls gifts like
these “extra sensory perception.” Churches, though, tend
to be more wary, concerned that gifts like these might verge on the occult.
And yet, in the Apostles’ Creed, every time we say that Christ
arose from the dead, we are talking about something no one actually saw
as it happened. And in the Nicene Creed, when we say we believe in the
Communion of Saints, we are agreeing that the line between this world
and the next is exceedingly thin. Indeed, it can be bridged – just
as it was on the night Jesus was born in
Bethlehem . . . and angels caroled that
good news to the shepherds, abiding in the fields with their sheep.
|
But knowing that something is true and acting on it are two different
things. And that’s the problem the saints in Matthew’s
Gospel this morning are discovering, as they stand in heaven around the
throne of Jesus. For there in heaven Jesus is judging them, not on the
basis of what they believed, nor on the basis of what they actually saw
in their time on earth, but simply on the basis of how they behaved, how
they acted.
|
And every one of them — the righteous ones he calls his sheep and
the ones he condemns, the goats — are utterly baffled by his
judgment. “Lord, when did we see you hungry and not feed
you . . . or lonely and not visit
you . . . or naked and not clothe
you,” the goats cry. And the sheep are no less baffled, for they
can’t remember seeing him either. “Lord,” they say,
“when did we see you a stranger and we welcomed you or in prison
and we visited you or thirsty and we gave you something to
drink?” Jesus’ answer to both groups is the same.
“Truly I tell you,” he says, “just as you did
it – or didn’t do it – to one of the least of these,
you did it to me.” And with that he sends the goats into eternal
punishment and the righteous into eternal life.
|
Now, I don’t know about you, but this whole passage is unsettling
to me. For I am not someone who sees angels standing at people’s
shoulders or, for that matter, the face of Christ in the face of every
poor person I encounter. But I know I’m supposed to act as if I
did. That’s what I’m saying every time I recite the Nicene
or the Apostles’ Creed – that I believe Jesus Christ came to
this earth, bridging the gap between heaven and earth. And when he
returned to heaven he sent the Holy Spirit to help us all perceive the
holy in the midst of everyday life. And by that gift of his Holy Spirit,
his presence is still with us – not just here and there on special
occasions, but everywhere – sometimes in the unlikeliest people.
|
So Christians are to act as if Christ might easily be in the people they
encounter: in the stranger they might otherwise fear; in the
prisoner, whose acts they might find reprehensible; even in the hungry
who may or may not welcome their approach.
|
That’s why I often say as we get ready to leave this church –
“Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”
And you respond, “Thanks be to God!” – agreeing
with me that this is what you’re about to do. “Thanks be to
God that we have the chance to serve Him – in the poor and the
hungry and the sick and the lonely. Thanks be to God!”
|
But if you are like me, the minute we leave this church the questions,
the dilemmas, arise. Will just one handout to a panhandler satisfy our
obligation – or am I to give to everyone who asks? Does it
count that I call or visit the lonely now and then, or will Jesus one
day remind me of the times I let that ministry lapse for awhile? And
what about prisoners? How can I help them, especially in this
time of Covid?
|
I was wrestling with these questions when I came across the story of a
man named David Neeleman, who, years ago, asked himself the same
questions. He had been, he says, an undistinguished student at the
University of Utah when he decided to spend two years with a church
group in the favelas or slums of Brazil. As a boy, David and his
well–off family had lived in Brazil and had appreciated the big
homes and nice country clubs they’d enjoyed there. So he thought
he knew the country. But the Brazil he came to know as a young adult
was entirely different.
|
In fact, the Brazil he came to know as a missionary was a land of
desperate poverty, where the arrogant rich seemed to feel entitled to
their wealth. They also seemed to think that their wealth made them
somehow better than the desperately poor in the slums. And yet, David
discovered that the poor seemed happier than the rich, and were
incredibly generous in sharing with one another the little they had.
And finally, David realized that despite the desperate poverty of the
place, he was happier too.
|
As his two years of service to the poor in Brazil ended, another
missionary, an older man, said to him, “David, when you go back to
your life in the United States, everything you do will be for you.
You’ll be in school for yourself, earning money for yourself, and
so on. In fact, you’re never going to be as content as you were
here unless you feel like you’re serving other people.”
|
David never forgot that. He returned home, finished school and went into
business. Today, David Neeleman is the founder and CEO of Jet Blue, as
well as five other airlines around the world. In fact, his is one of the
great modern success stories of the airline industry.
|
And he owes that success, he believes, to what he learned serving the
poor in Brazil. For what he learned in those two years has profoundly
affected his business philosophy and the culture of the airlines he runs.
For example, Jet Blue has eliminated many of the stark differences that
affect the way customers are treated by airlines. Jet Blue has only one
class of seats – and the seats with the most leg–room are in
the back of the plane, for those who have to get off last – and
therefore spend the most time in those seats. Inflight services are
provided to all passengers with equal attention.
|
At their corporate offices, there are no reserved parking places. The
coffee served is the same as the coffee served on Jet Blue flights. And
the desk and chair in the CEO’s office is the same desk and chair
everyone else has in their offices. Whenever David Neeleman takes a
business flight, he assists the flight group in serving drinks and snacks.
And he tells his pilots, “There are people who make more money at
this company than others, but that doesn’t mean you have to flaunt
it.”
|
Finally, under David Neeleman’s leadership, Jet Blue has established a
crisis fund that every employee contributes to voluntarily. That fund,
over and above standard corporate health benefits, provides help to
employees facing a family crisis, such as paying for child care during an
emergency.
|
It’s all part of what this man learned as he worked among the poor
in Brazil. He sees Christ in others – not in some special kind
of vision, with his eyes – but with his heart. And because his
heart has changed he honors others — because he believes they
possess the very life and dignity of Christ. And as he serves others in
the same way he would serve Christ, he transforms his community into
the very Kingdom of God here on this earth – where the peace and
justice of Christ reign.
|
On this Christ the King Sunday, I pray God will grant us the same kind
of vision in this, our own community.
|
Amen
|