Divinity of Humanity

November 26, 2017

The Feast of Christ the King

I have an admission to make: I have struggled with the end of each of the last three Gospel readings. I cringed (not so you would see) when I read aloud that slaves who misused what they were given will be thrown into the outer darkness, that the bridesmaids who did not prepare themselves would be not known and locked out, and today those who did not come to the aid of others in need would be sent away into eternal punishment.

Then I read further into Matthew and, I realized that the parables of these last three weeks are Jesus’ last teachings to his disciples. Matthew writes that "When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples: 'Passover is two days away….and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.'"

Jesus is running out of time: running out of time to teach his disciples…and they still don’t get it.  Jesus’ teaching today and the parables of the last two weeks were spoken only to the disciples. And here he is -- down to the last week-- starting a parable about a shepherd separating sheep and goats.

According to Anglican theologian Charles Ellicott, "we commonly speak of the concluding portion of this chapter as the parable of the Sheep and the Goats, but it is obvious from its very beginning that it passes beyond the region of parable into that of divine realities.”

Maybe it is that frustration of time slipping away that causes Jesus to abandon the sheep and the goats and move into the  “divine reality” addressed early in his ministry and which resonated through his parables, his teachings, his miracles: “in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you,” (Matthew 7:12) and later “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). But now, Jesus is running out of time for the disciples to understand that the bottom line has been about living into the divinity of their humanity.  

So he keeps it simple: The king invites those who will inherit the kingdom prepared for them “for”, says the king, “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.’

And the righteous answered, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’

Their questions reveal that their actions were done out of intention or obligation. Their questions are genuine and speak to the divinity of their humanity.  

These people do not remember having cared for others because caring for others is nothing out of the ordinary for them.  What they have done is unremarkable, not memorable for them.  They have no recollection because feeding the hungry or giving the thirsty a drink or welcoming a stranger or clothing the naked or caring for the sick or visiting the imprisoned is their norm.  

At one time, living that way may have been intentional acts of kindness. And then it became a way of being, a way of everyday living, a way of living into the divinity of their humanity. It became a way of living into and within the presence of God. And the king says to 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."

And to the others he says, "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, "to which they responded, "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?"

They have no recollection of not having cared for another because to not care for others is their norm.  To have done something for another would have been remarkable; would have been remembered because responding to the needs of another would not have been a part of their existence.  Their question is honest…they have no memory of having taken care of another. And he answers 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."

The thing is that living into God’s vision is not an either/or way of life. Our humanity allows us to live into God’s vision of divine reality as both/and. We are both the one who sees the need and the one who does not see the need. We are both the one who responds to the need and the one who does not respond. And because of that because we are both/and—we have a choice.

The more often we choose to live into the divinity of our humanity, the more often we choose to see those in need and care for them, the more it becomes our norm, and the deeper we live into God’s vision of divine reality, and the deeper we live into the presence of now.

Jesus knew that his “now” was running out of time. It was time for the disciples to become shepherds and live into what they had learned, to do what they had seen, to speak what they had heard. It was time for them to see those in need: the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the sick, the lost, the imprisoned, and to care for them. It was time for them to walk their talk and to live as fully and as completely as they could into the divinity of their humanity as they lead others to do the same. 

Now is just as good a time for us to open our ears to hear and our eyes to see those in need and to open our hearts to ponder what it would look like to care for others and to more fully live into the divinity of our humanity as our everyday way of caring for others.

What a world that would be for our children and our children’s children! Amen.