The Surprising King
The view from a mountaintop gives perspective for a weary traveler and gives perspective on the larger layout of the surrounding geography. I remember the view from Mount Tabor in Israel which is six miles east of Nazareth. On a clear day Mount Tabor is visible from much of Galilee. It is very prominent. Yet not many people go to visit it. The narrow, winding switchbacks, leading up the mountain are too narrow for tourist busses. So only cars and vans can make it up to the top. At the top of Mount Tabor is a beautiful high-vaulted European basilica. Three clergy friends and I enjoyed the basilica alone together for much of the time except for the birds in the sanctuary and then later the Catholic bishop from Manchester, New Hampshire and four of his flock.
From the Mount Tabor mountaintop, we had a clear day and a clear view. Looking east we could see snow-capped Mount Hermon way up in the Golan Heights. There was so much rural, idyllic countryside, green in the height of spring, with yellow mustard plants all around. We could see the Cliff of Arbel and the eastern high elbow of the Galilean Sea. Just a few miles from Arbel we could see the Horns of Hattin, the high hill with a striking rock outcropping on both sides. That was the place where in 1187 the great army of Saladin, the Sultan of Egypt and Syria, fought the great Crusader army of Europe. Saladin and the Ayyubid dynasty prevailed and Muslim armies took over Jerusalem from the crusaders. It was amazing to see that rural hillside so far from any civilization and to think of the hundreds and thousands of soldiers who came from places so far away to fight each other and die there. The mountaintop gave perspective not only on the geography of Galilee but also a view to the long, amazing history of that part of the world.
I would like to suggest that this parable, the last parable of Matthew’s Gospel, is one that gives a mountaintop view over the whole of Jesus’ life and ministry as one look back in one direction. And it pauses to look forward toward the cross and the light of Easter morning. This parable is the culmination of chapter 25 which contains three parables, three end times, last things parables. Yet it also serves to give perspective over the other parables that have proceeded it. For a moment here, the camera pulls back to witness the entire landscape, which is a helpful thing for this particular Sunday on the church calendar.
This parable is an end time parable because at long last the Son of Man has returned, the bridegroom is no longer delayed but greets the bride, the master has returned to those whom he had entrusted the talents. He comes in glory with all the angels gathered about him and now the Lamb is upon the throne. Matthew’s Gospel has been preparing us to understand Jesus as the Christ, the one to whom all of heaven and earth shall bow. Now the one who had healed the sick and fed the hungry, the one who had silenced the storm and taught the ways of the Kingdom, has come as the Sovereign Lord of all nations.
Today is Christ the King Sunday on the church calendar. This is the last day of the liturgical year. Now, I know that the calendars on our refrigerators say that the end of the year comes at the end of next month and that long December dash to the end of 2014 and the beginning of 2015. But the church liturgical year ends today and the church always end with the vision of the risen Lord Jesus Christ as King of heaven and earth. Some of the most magnificent church hymns were written to express Christ’s Kingship.
Crown Him the Lord of peace;
Whose power a scepter sways,
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, absorbed in prayer and praise.
Crown Him the Lord of years,
The Potentate of Time;
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
So how is it true that our risen Lord Jesus Christ is King, is Sovereign over heaven and earth? We witness the news and can easily see that wars have not ceased but continue to be the norm in some regions of the world that seem addicted to conflict and violence. We witness in our own culture a time that is far from being absorbed in prayer and praise, but is anxious and worried. Economic insecurity drives us to an ever increasing pace of life and often the technological advances which could be our friend become our master and add to the fever of a culture seemingly addicted to speed and far from the peace and shalom for which we long.
Let us take a closer look at this parable about the surprising Kingship of Christ, a parable that we often call the parable of the sheep and the goats. The heart of this parable is the surprise of how Christ reigns as Sovereign over the nations. But let me first admit that this parable often strikes a chord of fear into modern day hearers. Immediately upon hearing it people are often left dreading their own status as to whether they are to be counted among the sheep or the goats. I doubt that this was how the parable worked with Jesus’ own disciples and with the early church. But they lived in a much less individualistic age than our own. They may not have heard this parable in the way that we do almost automatically as an account of individual eternal salvation and damnation. Yet, however, they heard it, we also must wrestle with how we hear it today.
In the parable the Son of Man, the returning Sovereign, finally initiates the long awaited day of the consummation of all things. He comes as judge in setting aright a divine ordering, putting into alignment the purposes of heaven with the peoples of earth. Like a cosmic Shepherd he sorts the peoples like a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. So what is the measure by which he sorts the sheep from the goats? Here it is: the sheep are those who fed the hungry and gave drink to the thirsty, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, tended to the sick and visited the incarcerated. Notice that these actions are very much consistent with the life and manner of Jesus’ ministry. It should be said that these actions are consistent with the law that commanded care of the helpless, widow, orphan and sojourner. But it is very far from an exhaustive list of the commands of the law. Surprisingly, there is no mention of the worship of God. There is no reference to getting one’s theology “right” and no measure of assent to Jesus’ Lordship. This is the first surprise.
I remember seeing a cartoon a number of years ago. It was like one of the Farside cartoons that were so popular awhile back, but this one obviously came from a writer with some kind of theological background. In the single frame was Martin Luther, the great Protestant reformer, and he is walking with his head down in disbelief. In the background are two signs: one with clouds and gates that says heaven and the other pointing downward with flames and fire that says hell. Martin Luther is walking toward the flames and fire and in the little bubble that shows us what he is thinking Luther says to himself, “So it was works after all.” ……. A flat reading of this parable could lead to a simplistic works righteousness view of salvation. Have we done enough for the poor, the hungry, the outcast and lonely? Probably not. How could we ever be sure that we have done enough? Are forgiveness and grace out the window? Well, again a flat reading might lead to this fearful interpretation. But the weight of the parable is not simply a morality play in which those who tended to the least of these go to heaven and those who didn’t are counted among the goats.
The true surprise of the parable is that neither the sheep nor the goats realize what they have done or have failed to do. And even more surprisingly it turns out that the King has been present with them in those who were poor, hungry and sick. This is not how kings live. They live in royal palaces separated from the suffering of those in desperate conditions. But this King, the lamb upon the throne, holds court amidst the need of human beings. Those who worship and serve this cosmic King attend to the needy, not because it is simply one more thing to check off on the list of things to do, but rather because they meet their ever-present Lord in the face of their neighbor. The goats have already separated themselves by their own doing; they thought they need only attend to themselves. The sheep have already connected themselves to the purposes of heaven because they know that they share a common humanity with their neighbors.
So the reason for showing compassion on neighbors is not to win points for heaven. According to this parable and its vision of the reign of Christ, the reason to feed the hungry, tend to the sick and welcome the sojourner is to be in touch with reality. That is: reality in light of the heavenly kingdom. The truth is that we all share a common humanity given to us by our Creator. Regardless of income, race, social status or nationality, we have been created alike and carefully made in the image of God. And the risen Christ is present to us in the face of our neighbor, all our neighbors, even the poor, hungry and sick, …… especially the poor, hungry and sick.
The story of St. Francis of Assisi comes to mind when reflecting upon this parable and recognizing Christ in others. Giavanno di Bernadorne was his name before he became St. Francis. He was born to a father, Pietro, who was a very wealthy silk merchant. His father called his son, Francesco, Italian for the Frenchman. Francis lived a very lavish life as a wealthy young man, yet the suffering of war struck a change in him when he became a soldier for Assisi. Francis was still feeling very good and very cocky and very confident, but underneath it all, he was also feeling very empty. One day as he was riding along on his horse, he stopped and there was a beggar at his feet. Francis looked down at the beggar and the beggar had leprosy. His body was filled with open sores and wounds from the leprosy. Francis looked down, got down from his horse, bent down and picked up the man and looked into the man’s face. He then did something completely unthinkable. Francis put his arms around the beggar, put his face against the open wounds, and hugged the man. Francis embraced him, and then pulled his head away, and when he looked at the man he beheld the face of Jesus. The experience would lead to a dramatic change in Francis’ life. Though choosing never to be ordained, he would start the Franciscan order and much later become St. Francis who we remember as a joyful servant of God.
Friends, let us live by the light of the surprising, seemingly upside-down reality of God’s kingdom. Trust that the cosmic King of heaven and earth chooses to leave the royal courts beyond our reach in order to make himself known through the ordinary faces of those we encounter each and every day. ….. This week we will gather around Thanksgiving tables some of which chairs will be full and some which used to be full, but all which will be blessed by this ever-present Lord. We will give thanks and express gratitude for the blessings that we should never take for granted. But do something more than just give thanks for blessings. Look for the face of Christ in those around you. Look for his presence among family and friends. ….. And may God grant his grace to us to see our King Christ in the face of the poor so that we may be among those who give food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, welcome to the stranger, clothes to the naked, care to the sick, and attention to the imprisoned.
Let me close with some poetry by Gerard Manley Hopkins,
Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces; 10
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.