Reign of Christ Sunday | Matthew 25:31-46
Return of the King
Everyone is in a great throng, bigger than any rock concert, a slow moving herd of humanity, everyone there is, all in one place. When the sorting starts, the finger of God pointing left or right as each of us gets close enough for scrutiny, we don’t understand. This doesn’t match our expectations.
For one thing, everyone is still here. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of rapture? There were movies about it. Nicolas Cage was in the remake, wasn’t he? All of this judging business wasn’t supposed to happen yet, and not like this. All of the good folk were already supposed to be taken, not left behind, but here we all are, like sheep, or goats, depending on which way the finger of God points.
If this is a picture of how the second coming happens, somebody must have painted it wrong. It doesn’t match what the Left Behind folks tell us.
And one more thing.
All the attention is on the lives everyone led here on earth, before the angels and the throne of glory showed up. Jesus keeps talking about how everyone treated the hungry, the poor, the sick, and the oppressed—all here in this life. How about the streets of gold and the lake of fire part? Can’t we hear more about that?
Call me crazy, but it sounds like Jesus is not really interested in streets of gold and lakes of fire. He keeps talking about how we’ve been living our lives. These lives. Here. Now.
And in case anyone missed it, this isn’t the second coming of Christ. To hear Jesus tell it, this is something like the sixth or seventh return, or maybe the seven millionth.
You don’t think so? Count them up. Jesus says that we found him hungry, and thirsty, and alone, and naked, and sick, and imprisoned, and we did nothing to help him. That’s six appearances right there, not counting that first time when we crucified him. Doing nothing was an improvement when you think about it, but still.
Where Jesus is concerned, some of us don’t have a very good track record.
So Jesus is saying that he already came back. He keeps on coming back. Every day. Every time we see a homeless person, he’s back. Every time we meet someone who needs food, or clothes, or a place to stay, there he is. When our coworker needs encouragement, there he is. We just fail to recognize him, sort of like those first disciples after the resurrection. According to the Gospels, they had trouble recognizing Jesus as well. They spent years together, and he still didn’t look like they expected him to look.
But those people he is talking about, they aren’t the real Jesus. It’s sort of like settling for a Santa’s helper at the mall because the real Santa is too busy. That lonely old woman isn’t really Jesus. That’s just somebody we might do something nice for so that we can get on the Nice list instead of the Naughty one. Right?
Except that isn’t what Jesus said. He said what we do to the old lady, we’ve done to him. Really, truly. It’s not like Jesus voodoo dolls—do something nice for the old lady, or not, and you do something nice for Jesus, or not. He’s saying that on some level, the old lady is Jesus, even if she doesn’t know it.
Maybe we’ve just learned not to see Jesus. We can walk right past him sitting on the sidewalk, because that’s not Jesus, that’s just someone who should get a job. We can overlook him in his disguise as a child without a coat, the one whose cheeks are a little too thin. He doesn’t look anything like that woman in a Syrian refugee camp, or like those people in tent hospitals. Jesus certainly never had ebola. He never looked like that, or smelled like that, or dressed like that. Jesus never looked anything like our neighbors, certainly not anything like our own family.
We could have done fine things for Jesus, if we could have found him, but we’re surrounded by a bunch of goats.
Oh, what does he look like? Jesus looks like a king, of course. You can’t miss him. And one day we’re going to walk on streets of gold and wear white robes and sing songs together. No, it is not a metaphor. What do you mean? Heaven is real, and we’ve got a ticket. That’s what matters, none of this here and now stuff. This is just a momentary thing. Isn’t that what it says somewhere? Come to think about it, if this life is so temporary, why is Jesus making such a fuss about it?
In the meantime, where did all of these beggars come from? They look sort of familiar.
Photos by Granny ™ (except icon)