|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Ezekiel 34:11–16, 20–24 |
Psalm 100 |
Ephesians 1:15–23 |
Matthew
25:31–46
|
Today’s Gospel is cautioning us that when we set out to decide who will be classified as goats, be very, very careful. Jesus’ parable is ultimately unsettling when we presume to know the sure way of getting into the preferred sheep express lane.
An astounding thing about the parable of the sheep and the goats is that both the sheep and the goats are surprised at the way God exercises judgment. It’s perfectly understandable that the goats would plead that they didn’t know what they were doing. After all, the goats were self-centered, inconsiderate, insensitive clods, who all their life, never had a real thought for anyone but themselves. We all know such people, don’t we! But those who were judged the sheep had no advance knowledge that they were on the inside track, meeting God’s criteria for commendation. They never became smug and self-assured that what they had done would reward them a place on the Lord’s right hand. They never calculated that they were running up credits in heaven just by the way they lived their common, unremarkable life and treated plain, ordinary people.
Many of us in our lives out in the world want the opportunity to make the difference in our field or profession or family. We want to be in control and in charge and we want God to notice us and at least keep track of our good deeds.
The parable is telling us that if we really are prepared to let God enter and guide our lives, we are going to be surprised. We are likely to go places we might not like to visit, we will accept some tasks we would prefer not doing, we will be a bit bewildered, and at times we may feel we are strangers in an alien land. We may face questions and doubts more than we would like to admit. God may seem distant and silent to us for long periods of time. We ask, “Does God care? Is God noticing?” A great silence can fill one’s heart and cause it to ache.
This is the last Sunday of the liturgical year. Next Sunday will be the first of the four Sundays of Advent, preparing us for Jesus birth. Today’s hymns and lessons point to the end of time and the final triumph of God. Note, it’s not the certain triumph of our civilization over a foreign one, not the triumph of the church over non-Christians, not even a triumph of the underdogs over the top dogs. The triumph is about the reconciliation of the whole world, of all nations, of all of creation; it is about the universal peace of God’s commonwealth and of opposites, even enemies finally living together, as incomprehensible as the lion lying down with the lamb. All that is damaged and broken in our humanity will be restored; human nature will be transformed to how it was meant by God to be. The triumph is one of surprise to us as it is for others, it is a like dream we can hardly dare to dream. It is a world of “not yet, not possible to fully imagine.” It is a puzzle of many dimensions and we cannot put together all the pieces.
The more I read the traditional Biblical passages trying to express this, the more I know that it is so difficult to grasp. The images of this final day that we hold on to are largely of a feudal European society that has long since disappeared. The trappings of kings and thrones belong in museums and we would not want them back among us. History is pretty clear that feudal societies have failed us. Yet we have difficulty moving on and expressing new images. Yes it’s so easy to criticize the past and make fun of its many, many follies, but it is very difficult to come up with an accurate assessment of how our future will play out. We are not in the age of final enlightenment. That is why I think Jesus wasn’t threatening us by the parable of the sheep and goats as much as suggesting some humility. Don’t be too sure of or smug in our own righteousness, Jesus is saying. You could be mistaken.
A demanding and proud heart is not healthy for a disciple’s life. Only an open heart can be filled and transformed. An open heart discovers God, hidden, disguised, or in the depths: For God’s presence is never commanded, never bribed, never under our control. God’s presence is apt to be like the wind that surprises us, as it blows across our face, but never lingers long and always eludes capture by our grasp.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
