In this week’s gospel story, Jesus speaks of what will be “when the Son of Man comes in his glory.” I assume this means the end of the world as we know it – after all, when Jesus returns in glory and ushers in the reign of God’s perfect peace and justice, we’re kind of done. Roll up the sidewalks and repair to those heavenly mansions prepared for us, and enjoy an eternity of love at a banqueting table that never ends.
Only, according to this vision not everyone will be there – the “cursed” will be sorted out, the “blessed” invited in. And what is the criteria for this sorting? How we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned; in other words, the marginalized:
“Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for 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.”
Jesus anticipates that the blessed will be baffled – “When did we see you hungry and feed you?” He says the king will answer: “Truly, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
We know that by “me,” Jesus means himself – he, who called himself the "Son of Man", is the king in the story - and the marginalized are his family. This give us two big clues about how we might find ourselves on the right side in glory:
1. We will give ourselves to those who are not successful in worldly terms – being hungry, thirsty, unclothed, sick, or imprisoned are not markers of worldly success, right? And
2. We will give ourselves to Jesus, who said we’d find him in exactly those people.
We often go looking for Jesus in fancy churches and gilded mosaics – and where has he always been found? In a stable amidst the straw; on the road, nowhere to lay his head; at dinner with roughs and low-lifes – and, finally, in a god-forsaken killing ground, the “place of the skull.” The only time we see Jesus in a palace is when he’s being interrogated in Herod and Pilate’s kangaroo courts.
This is the beauty of our salvation story: this unfathomable lowering of God himself into human form; the mystery that the One who IS outside of time and space consented to be bound in those dimensions, to live and die at the mercy of the very people he came to save, forgive, heal, redeem, set free. We see the Anointed One disguising his royalty in the rags of beggars and harlots, lepers and prisoners. And, as Martin Luther noted, we are the beneficiaries of this Great Exchange, as we trade in our rags for his royal robes.
Where do you usually look for Jesus? I usually seek him in my prayer imagination, as that’s often how he’s been most real to me. I forgot to look for him among the "unsuccessful."
Do you know anyone you’d categorize as “unsuccessful” by measures the world uses? Have you seen Christ in that person? Is he inviting you to look for him in a particular person or sort of person? What happens when you pray for that person today? What happens when you ask Jesus to reveal himself in that person or persons?
What happens when we seek to love Jesus in an “unsuccessful person,” is we show them love too. They don’t know it’s Jesus we’re loving – they just know someone is seeing them, honoring them, feeding, tending to them. And gradually, if we keep it up, they become stronger and transformed into the very image of a “successful person.” Just like you and me.
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