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SERMONS

The Last Sunday after Pentecost
November 24 , 2002

By David Christian

I like to know what is expected of me. I have always been that way. When I was a student I wanted to know exactly what was expected in any class: what papers had to be written and how they would be evaluated, what tests would be given and how they would be graded, how final averages would be determined and what grading scale would be used.

I am still that way. When I am asked to take on a new responsibility, I want to know exactly what I will be expected to do. I love time lines and job descriptions. They give me a feeling of great comfort and security.

This is also true for my faith life. I yearn for some clear description of what is expected of me, and I want to know how I will be evaluated.

It would seem that today's gospel should give me some help. It is Jesus' Parable of the Last Judgment. The telling of this parable is set at the very end of Jesus' public ministry, only a day or two before his betrayal.

The parable itself is about the eschaton, the end of the world, that final day in the life of this world when the Son of Man will return as judge. On that day, the parable says, he will separate humanity into two groups. The one group will enter into eternal life, but the other into eternal punishment.

The standard for separating the two groups will be hospitality. To the righteous he will say, "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." The sin of the unrighteous will be that they did not do these very things.

But notice one characteristic that both groups share in the face of this judgment: surprise. Both the sheep and the goats are startled to find themselves where they are. This is not a coy little "Me?"; this is utter astonishment. The recipient of their acts of hospitality, or inhospitality, was the hidden King himself. It was Jesus standing there; it is Jesus standing there; only we don't even know him.

You see, this parable says that we don't see. The one thing we know by its end is that we don't know. This parable is not a call to go out and feed the poor or clothe the naked or welcome the stranger; although the world will be a better place if we do, and we might just find Jesus hiding there.

This parable is not about increasing our pledges to the church; although the Budget Committee and vestry will be happy if we do. This parable is not about how we can come here and get a grip on God; not about what we can do to be sure we are in the right group; not about the three easy steps to salvation; not about how we can bypass judgment; not about how in the end we can just walk up to God and confidently say, "Sheep here, no need to judge me."

This parable says that we shall be judged. We shall be judged not on criteria that we have established. We shall be judged not on what seems good or just or right to us. We shall be judged on what seems right to God.

We spend too much of our time and our energy trying to get a handle on God; too much time trying to convince God and ourselves that we are in the right group, that we are the good guys. And we spend too much time deciding who else will be in our group; making plans to save places for our friends at our table in the kingdom.

This parable says that God reserves the privilege of making that decision; that all judgments are final; and that we will be surprised.

Where does this leave us? If all we know is that we don't know, what can we say? Is there anything we can be certain of?

We can be certain of this: the one who sits on the throne of judgment--the one who sees our lives and passes judgment--is the one whose name is Jesus. He calls us to serve; and he serves us even when we forget to serve others. He calls us to forgive; and he forgives us even when we don't get it right. He calls us to love; and he loves us even when we don't always know how to love him.

In the end all we can do is throw ourselves on the mercy of the court. The good news is that our judge is a judge of mercy. Our surprise at his judgment is the shock of grace.

David Christian
The Chapel of the Cross
Madison, Mississippi

Proper 29A
Ezekiel 34.11-17
1 Corinthians 15.20-28
Matthew 25.31-46