NOVEMBER 15, 2020 "Law, Order: Convicted" Rev. Dal McCrindle
One of the pictures I have on my office wall is a photo taken at St. Andrew’s-Wesley one Easter as I was pronouncing the benediction. That’s the one that at the corner of Burrard and Nelson being renovated and restored. I’m standing alone on the chancel steps as the choir has left the loft and are arranged in the aisle awaiting to sing a choral benediction. Standing there looking out at this cavern-like sanctuary gives you the queasiest feeling. It’s probably the closest thing we have in the United Church this side of Winnipeg that feels like a cathedral, with its stain glass windows, high ceilings and immense nave. Away up front there’s a huge window, depicting Jesus standing on a little knoll preaching to the crowd. In the background are little villages and high above his head there’s a depiction of angels and cherubim swirling around and watching as he speaks. In the panels beneath his feet are other panels illustrating some of the parables of Jesus and I know, by looking at each one, the point of the story is directed toward me and I feel less certain about my salvation, ‘cause I know I’ve failed to respond to this story as I ought. The sanctuary was an awesome place and I just know that God was looking down at me and I feel judged and inadequate.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being judged by others even though we all do. Especially in the church, we are evaluating all the time: how we’ve the job was done, was the music was okay, did the choir pull the anthem off, or did the sermon say anything or was it just another string of words? did the minister come calling when he should, how did he conduct himself when, you know when we told him that his salary was going to be reduced because of budget restraints, or what about when our behaviour is judged even when we’re doing the very best we can under the circumstances of diminished physical or emotional health: all these things. Judgement!
Matthew paints such a vivid picture of judgment and it’s more than whether you passed your final examination, because this is actually the final, Final. One biblical student once asked, if we were charged with being a Christian, would there be enough evidence for a conviction? There Jesus sits, on his throne separating the sheep from the goats and I just know I’m going be a goat. “God I wish I could be a sheep!”
Now before we get too far into this I must say that I don’t think Jesus had anything against goats. It was just a good example of how easy it would be to separate the good from the bad, as easy as separating cats from dogs, goats from sheep. Who’s in and who is out of this kingdom business!
Here is an image of Jesus that is virtually absent from many a modern church - Christ, the judge of the world. Our scripture readings started off okay today, with God in Ezekiel being likened to the true shepherd of the flock; that was kind of nice! Then we heard Paul describing God’s flock rather than in sheep and goat terms but as the body, the body of Christ, that was okay too! Then Matthew’s reading pushed us into a corner on how this body is going to be judged just as a shepherd is able to distinguish between sheep and goats. Today’s story is about judgement; law order and a conviction!
Many a sermon I’ve heard and also preached on this passage has been on how we are supposed to reach out to "the least of these," and who they might be. We are expected to visit, to feed, to clothe, to comfort those who are less fortunate than ourselves since we never know when we welcome the stranger that we might welcome Christ himself.
We love to hear that sermon. After all, most of us are people of some means. We may not be rich, and even with today’s stretched economy, we are not really poor either. We have the means to help those who need help and we feel some obligation to respond to the suffering of others and we usually do, more often than not without recognition; sometimes a good Christian ethic. We support First United Church, the socks and gloves support for the downtown Eastside folk, the Mission and Service Fund of the United Church to name a few. Doing this and hearing this parable we know it's about us, we know which side of the division we are on.
But we need also to be reminded that the parables of Jesus are usually meant to shock us, to surprise and dislodge us, not to confirm us or make us feel comfortable. For example, we expect that the poor man in the ditch will be helped by someone who is thoughtful and kind, some good religious person like ourselves. To our surprise, he is helped by a no-good disliked by the main stream, Samaritan.
In our world of non-judgmental, "my-conscience-is-my-guide" morality, this parable makes a great enough shock upon us in its simple, but vivid assertion, we shall be judged.
One day Matthew writes: we shall stand before the throne of God, we shall hold our meagre lives in our hands, and we shall render account. God shall surely consider all that we have been given in judging us, all of our opportunities and advantages, challenges and hopefully disadvantages. But we shall be judged.
And the judge will be Jesus, the Christ, the one who has loved us, even enough to die for us, who returned to us even after we had betrayed him; the Christ who forgave us. He shall be the judge.
And what shall his judgment be?
We’ve just come through a time of remembrance celebrating the end of the Great Wars of the last century, with its anthem “lest we forget”; for if we forget what took place and why, we will stand judged for our failures and the mess that creation has become. We will stand under God’s judgement for what we have done or not done. Rudyard Kipling wrote those words on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897 in the poem “Recessional” as a warning that no matter how great we might think we have become, even Queens and Empires ultimately come under the scrutiny and judgment of God. “Judge of the nations, spare us yet, lest we forget!”
Throughout history, believing that God was watching, has kept some people on the straight and narrow; “just as you did it to the least of these, you did it to me” and visa-versa. People knew or at least believed that God was watching. It’s like a sign over the cash register in a gift shop at a great cathedral in England that says, "We may not have seen you take it, but God did." God sees; the all seeing eye. God knows; the omnipotent, all powerful, all knowing One. And according to this gospel lesson, what God will do with that knowledge on the last day is to sort us into two groups - goats to the left and sheep to the right.
We habitually read that scene as a warning that if we're not like the blessed sheep who ministered to the Shepherd-King of the least of his brothers and sisters, we'll end up in everlasting fire like the cursed goats.
Now before I go any farther, think on it: how many have, at one time or another, helped someone they didn’t know. Probably everyone; and again how many have avoided someone who was asking for their help, a quarter, a dollar, whatever? Everyone again! We’re both the damned and the saved. Goats and Sheep at the same time. Now what do we do?
What I think Jesus was up to in The Sheep and the Goats Parable was the same thing he had in mind in other parables which was to get the concept of deserving out of the story. Why are sheep blessed and goats not? We know we are both. So here, Jesus is using his story-telling-talent to get rid of the notion that our faith is some sweaty and rewardable work, without which God refuses to save us. In the previous parables (the Ten Virgins and the Talents), Jesus has said that only true faith will matter on the Last Day. But since we're such experts at turning even faith into work, he does a dramatic about-face in this one: he says that even our faith has nothing to do with the success of our redemption.
The story is not intended to fill us with the fear of God for what we have not done; or to be praised for what we have, but to be brought to praise and thanksgiving for what God has already done for us. God can separate us as easily as cats from dogs, sheep from goats, but God chooses us because God wants us to be chosen; and to feel chosen so we can get on with what chosen people do: carry the cross of Jesus, the scepter of the king of kings, follow him among the lost, the least and the little, even the dead; while singing praises to God. This is a call to discipleship, not a threat of a dungeon of punishment nor to be cast aside. God is the way and the means to escape our deserved conviction. At least that’s the way I see it!