There isn't much room for the idea of universal salvation in this vision Jesus paints. Behind Door#1 is an inheritance of infinite and eternal value: “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.”
Behind Door #2? Eternal fire, damnation: “Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”
Jesus so wants to emphasize this teaching that he repeats the whole narrative of “hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, in prison,” in almost the same words – but the second time he is indicting people for what they did not do: “…for 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.” Then they also will answer, “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?” Then he will answer 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.”
It’s a pretty low bar, to only have to serve “one” of the least of these. I’m guessing the folks in the "cursed" line couldn’t even do that, and are left to the consequences of their self-gratifying narcissism and cruel neglect of those with whom they shared this planet. Let’s hope there aren’t too many in that line.
The folks on the right are presumably continuing a relationship with Jesus they embarked upon in their earthly life. In taking care of the “least of these” members of what Jesus calls his family, they have become part of the family themselves and therefore inheritors of the kingdom of God, everything in heaven and earth.
This parable is about more than “doing good,” or “acts of charity,” or taking care of the “less fortunate.” It goes deeper – the blessed are those who not only serve but identify with the stranger, the sick, the incarcerated, the hungry, the naked, the thirsty. They don’t see themselves as “other” or “better.” Maybe they even help because they don’t believe they are any better, maybe just more fortunate. Or they offer care because, like Mother Teresa with the lepers of Calcutta, they actually experience Christ’s presence in the ones in need.
Do you ever have the experience of helping someone and feeling you’re connected to Jesus in that moment? Do you ever feel related to people in extreme need? I go to the local men's shelter regularly when my congregation brings supper, and I pray with the guys, and occasionally a moment of camaraderie will break through my sense of being different from them. Then I feel like I'm their sister, not a "helper."
How might we become more open to people who seem so different from us – living hand to mouth, unable to stay sober, manipulating their way through life? If Jesus says those people are his family, what does that make us?
No comments:
Post a Comment