Come, You that are Blessed

A sermon for the Last Sunday after Pentecost, November 26, 2023

Trinity Episcopal Church of Morrisania, Bronx, New York

Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you…

Today is the Feast of Christ the King when we celebrate Jesus Christ as our Lord and King. Funny thing about that though—the King we celebrate is powerless. He has no wealth, no army, he doesn’t even have much influence with the powerful or the wealthy. How does this king rule? “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger …”

Jesus is a stranger … in this world of ours he doesn’t fit in. Certainly not with those who make it clear that people are to be judged as good people based on their success in making money and fitting in with the “right kind of people.” Jesus was all about hospitality, about welcoming people and attending to their needs. And plenty of the people he welcomed and feasted with were, one way or another, the wrong kinds of people: tax collectors, sinners, women accused of being prostitutes—even those Samaritans, that ethnic group that was just a little bit on the wrong side of the religious and ethnic divide from Jesus’ Jewish heritage.

So, this stranger Jesus is the King we celebrate. But not a foreign king like Alexander the Great, the Greek who conquered the world, or Augustus, the Roman emperor who ruled the world up to Jesus’ time. Jesus is strange because power, prestige, and control are not what he’s about.

The image he presents in the Gospel reading today is this:

The judgment day is presented, and the Son of Man is standing on the plain with all the angels, sorting out people just the way that everybody knew a shepherd would separate the sheep and the goats into separate groups, treating each species according to its own needs and nature.

I read it this way: After it’s all over, after the course of life is run, we’ll just see. The Son of Man comes in glory to invite his people in. It is really the invitation that he has been giving us all along, and the kingdom is not so much different as we have right now, truth be told. It’s just hard to see it sometimes amidst our anxiety and worry—perhaps it’s difficult to see the kingdom while we ourselves are busy producing the problems that the Kingdom of God heals. But Jesus is here. At Trinity I see people who are compassionate and respect one another, who have reach out to this neighborhood—welcoming neighbors, providing clothing and food to people who don’t presently have a lot of resources. Trinity dedicated its rectory for several recent years to a community of volunteer fellows, who experienced and learned from living among the poor. Jesus has been around Trinity a lot over the years, and sometimes he’s been fed and clothed and given something to drink right here.

This story about the sheep and the goats might tempt some to try to keep score: how many times did I help the needy? How many times did I fail to see Jesus? But Jesus’ teaching is not about keeping score. It’s about character. What sort of people are we becoming? You notice that both groups, both the blessed and the accursed, are surprised by their status. The reason for this is not because it is some sort of secret magical trick meant to keep us on edge. The blessed don’t know because it has become so much of their character to respond with generosity and respect to everyone—particularly those who are hungry or thirsty or alone—that it doesn’t even occur to them to do it any other way. And the accursed, their character becomes so defensive and self-centered, that they are surprised that everybody else doesn’t do it like them. “Oh, I’m sure I fed the hungry somehow—didn’t I have that on my schedule in between my spa treatment and foreclosing on those mortgages?”

When the habits of Jesus’ love for us become the habits of our hearts, we are indeed blessed. When we actually look and see what others need, and offer them in generosity that cup of cool water, or that helping hand, it builds us up inside. Our reverence for God’s people builds reverence for God, and it is in God that we live in joy.

As St. Paul said in the Epistle to the Ephesians today:

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he called you…

Ephesians 1:17-18

May we all rejoice as we live in the power of the humility of Christ our King.

I will Save my Flock and they will no longer be Ravaged

A sermon for the 25th Sunday after Pentecost, November 22, 2020

Trinity Episcopal Church of Morrisania, Bronx, New York

And the king will answer 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.”

I have to admit, I have been a bit distracted this week by the various controversies and litigation going on about the presidential election. It is confusing and not easy to understand. Or at least it isn’t easy to understand if you expect things in the legal realm to be approached in good faith, based on laws and evidence.

We have reached the end of the church year. Next Sunday is the First Sunday of Advent, when the new liturgical year begins with the four Sundays leading up to Christmas. So the church year ends with an account of the final judgement of God. The great image of the sorting of the sheep and the goats.  And on what basis does the great king decide on admission to his pleasure and the Kingdom? Is it on achievement? Or power, or wealth? Is it based on ingratiating oneself to the King or his courtiers? No. None of these, none of the things that would go on most people’s scorecards of how to get into the Good Place are mentioned. Not even being punctilious about church attendance and keeping all the rules. 

“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.”

Matthew 25:34-36

It is by attention to the poor, the suffering, those who are on the outside and disrespected that we participate and join in the everlasting life of God. Of course, it says that they were giving Jesus something to eat and drink and Jesus who was a stranger. Surely it means serving Jesus, and not just some random stranger who might not be worthy?…

That, of course, is the argument made by the goats: “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?” Always, there are people looking to defend themselves and argue that their selfishness or insensitivity are okay. That they were within their rights.

But Jesus … and God … identifies with the poor, all of them—and by the way those who aren’t worthy and those who have broken the rules, even some we might rightly be scared of or angry with. Because, every one of God’s children has done something unworthy, offended someone, hurt somebody else at some time or another. God is the God of Mercy and love. And if we are to participate in that Kingdom of God, it is mercy and love that we are to practice—extending love to those who are most in need of it, those who may be least appealing, least attractive to us, least worthy according to the ways that we’re inclined to judge things.

“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.”

Matthew 25:45

Jesus isn’t just hiding concealed in a poor person’s costume, he identifies completely with those least people—and it’s worth mentioning that if you ever feel or have ever thought that you were less worthy or less than someone else, or have ever been treated that way, Jesus is there for you as well, standing up for you and with you with his whole life, even willing to die to protect you and take care of you.

But back to those people who defend themselves: “WHEN did we ever see you?—I was acting within MY rights.” We see a lot of that these days. People asserting their right to be selfish when the real question is our common need for compassion. My preoccupation this week with what’s happening in politics this week caused me to see a lot of it going on in all the rhetoric about whose votes count and whose votes don’t. And frankly, as a white American who grew up in Idaho and pays a lot of attention to what happens in the Red States and in evangelical religion, it is disturbingly familiar and yet, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I ran across a very helpful article that clarified it a lot for me. It is about the American rhetoric of liberty and freedom. The insight that struck me was that there are three aspects to the way Americans talk about freedom that sound like a chord in music. The first note is freedom as the absence of constraints on one’s ability to act. The second note is “civic freedom,” the ability to take part in the governance of the community—to vote and speak out to influence decisions and laws that get made. Those are pretty clear and most people understand and hold to them.

But there’s a third, darker note. The third note might be called “sovereign freedom.” It’s the freedom to control things and dominate things and persons in your sphere of influence. I seldom think of this as freedom, but when I look at those who are outraged at the result of the presidential election and worried about “the loss of their freedoms” whenever Congress acts to do something to alleviate poverty, or grant freedom and opportunity to oppressed groups, it is this freedom they are talking about. Often deeply and intensely. Defending their “rights” and their “religious freedom,” though it is not about freedom to worship God or to speak and act without unreasonable constraint. This kind of thinking about freedom is deeply ingrained in America; it was the rationale for maintaining slavery, it’s the rationale for ever-increasing income inequality and limiting labor unions by changing the laws, it’s the rationale for segregation in its many guises. What it is not—is it is not a value of Jesus or of traditional Christianity. We are called to compassion, not selfishness. We are not called to dominion over others, to control over the bodies of others and to punish and intimidate anyone weaker than ourselves. Those were the values of the Romans—the people who crucified Jesus.

God is the protector of the weak, not those who are powerful and smug. As today’s lesson from Ezekiel says:

Therefore, thus says the Lord God to them: I myself will judge between the fat sheep and the lean sheep. Because you pushed with flank and shoulder, and butted at all the weak animals with your horns until you scattered them far and wide, I will save my flock, and they shall no longer be ravaged; and I will judge between sheep and sheep.

Ezekiel 34:20-22

The judgement of God, is God’s welcome to all of us, to God’s people of every sort. But woe to those who reject that welcome for the sake of having dominion over others in this world.

Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Collect for the 25th Sunday after Pentecost

Lord, when was it that we saw you?

A sermon for the Feast of Christ the King, November 26, 2017

Calvary Episcopal Church, Flemington, New Jersey

Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you…

Today is the last Sunday before Advent begins. It is often called the Feast of Christ the King and it is indeed the day when we celebrate Jesus Christ as our Lord and King. Funny thing about that though—the King we celebrate is powerless. He has no wealth, no army, he doesn’t even have much influence with the powerful or the wealthy. How does this king rule? “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger…”

Jesus is a stranger…in this world of ours he doesn’t fit in. Certainly not with those who make it clear that people are to be judged as good people based on their success in making money and fitting in with the “right kind of people.” Jesus was all about hospitality, about welcoming people and attending to their needs. And plenty of the people he welcomed and feasted with, were one way or another the wrong kinds of people: tax collectors, sinners, women accused of being prostitutes—even those Samaritans, that ethnic group that was just a little bit on the wrong side of the religious and ethnic divide from Jesus’ Jewish heritage.

So this stranger Jesus is the King we celebrate. But not a foreign king like Alexander the Great, the Greek who conquered the world, or Augustus, the Roman emperor who ruled the world up to Jesus’ time. Jesus is strange because power, prestige and control are not what he’s about.

The image he presents in the Gospel reading today is this:

The judgment day is presented, and the Son of Man is standing on the plain with all the angels, sorting out people just the way

that everybody knew a shepherd would separate the sheep and the goats into separate groups, treating each species according to its own needs and nature.

I read it this way: After it’s all over, after the course of life is run, we’ll just see. The Son of Man comes in glory to invite his people in. It is really the invitation that he has been giving us all along, and the kingdom is not so much different as we have right now, truth be told. It’s just hard to see it sometimes amidst our anxiety and worry—perhaps it’s difficult to see the kingdom while we ourselves are busy producing the problems that the Kingdom of God heals. But Jesus is here.

Two weeks ago, I attended a meeting of Calvary’s Good Shepherds who work with Mother Ann to visit and care for the sick and shut-ins of our community. Our youth group gathers together to support one another and to reach out for the good of others—today they are putting up the Angel Tree, which gives us an opportunity in cooperation with Readington Township Social Services to give gifts and convey caring and hope to people who are having a difficult time and perhaps not seeing so much brightness in the coming season. Our parishioners share the joy of Christ’s love with our community in hosting Halloween Trick or Treaters and having a float in the Christmas Parade. This Friday some of us will take warm hats and scarves as well as needed toiletries and supplies to the Seaman’s Church Institute to give to merchant sailors who are far from home and often quite isolated. And our Way of St. Paul Group is working hard on listening to one another and all of you in the congregation—in helping us work on ways to foster deeper connection among us and to discern more clearly where God is leading us together.

This story about the sheep and the goats might tempt some to try to keep score: how many times did I help the needy? How many times did I fail to see Jesus? But Jesus’ teaching is not about keeping score. It’s about character. What sort of people are we becoming? You notice that both groups—both the blessed and the accursed—are surprised by their status. The reason for this is not because it is some sort of secret magical trick meant to keep us on edge. The blessed don’t know because it has become so much of their character to respond with generosity and respect to everyone—particularly those who are hungry or thirsty or alone—that it doesn’t even occur to them to do it any other way. And the accursed, their character becomes so defensive and self-centered, that they are surprised that everybody else doesn’t do it like them. “Oh, I’m sure I fed the hungry somehow—didn’t I have that on my schedule in between my spa treatment and foreclosing on those mortgages?”

When the habits of Jesus’ love for us become the habits of our hearts, we are indeed blessed. When we actually look and see what others need, and offer them in generosity that cup of cool water, or that helping hand, it builds us up inside. Our reverence for God’s people builds reverence for God, and it is in God that we live in joy.

As St. Paul said in the Epistle to the Ephesians today:

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he called you…

May we all rejoice as we live in the power of the humility of Christ our King.