“THE SUPREME COURT”
Scripture Lesson: Matthew 25: 31-46
Dr. Matthew Brown
November 20, 2005
In the very heart of the South Carolina low country where the nation’s tourists gather to dine on the latest seafood presentations of culinary school all-stars, there rises a most impressive, towering structure over Charleston’s Cooper River known as the Arthur Ravenal Bridge. Dedicated just this summer, the deck of the Ravenal Bridge ascends to a height of 186 feet with its towers soaring to a height of 575 feet (for comparison - that’s 20 feet higher than the Washington Monument.)
Thanks to a vigorous public campaign during the planning stage, a twelve foot pedestrian and bicycle lane was added to the eight traffic lanes of the bridge so that you can now venture forth on a two and half mile walk across the bridge or embark on a five mile round trip.
What a wonderful way to spend a gloriously bright and warm Fall morning, I thought. Hand in hand with my cherished spouse, we headed out and upwards toward the bridge’s summit looking forward to the benefits of vigorous exercise, the fantastic views of Charleston’s harbor, and the joy of marital companionship.
Yet, as we drew closer to the bridge’s center, a thought crossed my mind: “I’ll bet they don’t have any restroom facilities up here.” And thus, with each step, thoughts of fluid flow and bladder control began to crowd out any appreciation of the aesthetic banquet that surrounded me. Romantic notions of sharing a memorable vacation experience with my beloved were pushed aside by the urgent question of how long I would walk and talk lovingly with my true love before I bolted off in a dire dash in the vain hope of finding some remedy for my current physiological crisis. How long could I feign enjoyment as my innards screamed for relief?
About 6/10ths of a mile. With a quick apology and a shift to hyper speed, I put my running shoes to the test, flying by pedestrians and dodging bicycles in a race to Mt. Pleasant, but like Bethlehem there would be no resting rooms to be found. “Out of Order,” said the gas station. “You’re not allowed. We get this all the time. My boss would kill me,” said the innkeeper.
There were guards at the door of the Shriner’s temple. I will say no more other than to say how grateful I am that the coastal areas of South Carolina have not been completely deforested.
And thus, I was provided with that day’s lesson concerning human weakness. You see, each day, in some way, offers a reminder of the limitations of the human body, the human mind, the human spirit. At times the body will force us to pay attention to its limitations. At times we will face some vexing, mind bending question that we just cannot think ourselves around. At times, perseverence is swallowed by exhaustion.
Though we can send spacecraft beyond the last rock of our solar system, we cannot escape the forces that forever limit human endeavor and behavior. Love is tempered by hate. Generosity is curtailed by greed. Kindness is clouded by anger. Self giving is truncated by self-seeking.
I can say I want to be a good person, but there is enough self-interest in that statement itself to shrink any harvest of goodness. As we look at the boundaries of our existence, whether we’re talking about bladder capacity or the border between compassion and callousness, we may manage to move the walls, but we cannot completely break them down.
We are confronted with that truth as we approach our scripture lesson today. These verses are culled from Matthew’s gospel time and again to challenge the faithful to any number of good deeds. Whether it’s a capital campaign for a homeless shelter, a new member drive for a congregation, a request for volunteers at a youth prison, or even an appeal for a water fountain in a church preschool, I’ve heard and often used these words in the hope of moving people toward benevolence. And the appeals always end with the exact same words offered in suitably serious and grave tones: “As you have done it to the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.” These are potent words. Potent words that speak a powerful truth.
And yet, I must admit, each time I approach this text, I initially experience more discouragement than inspiration. You see, I once heard the great preacher Fred Craddock say that this Bible text constitutes the only question on our final exam.
Well, I open my Bible and read these words: “When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. . . . ‘As you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.’ And they will go away into eternal punishment.” I read these words, and what comes to my mind are the shiver inducing memories of those times when I’ve been confronted with my failure and called to account by my teacher, by my boss, by my parent. Maybe you’ve never had this experience, but if you have, you know what I’m talking about.
Your tummy’s in turmoil. Your legs are wet fettucine. Your heart is racing. You stumble into the classroom, the office, the study. And She’s sittin’ there all serious, and a little too serene, flipping through your essay, your quarterly report, the note from the principal. You know you have not done your best work. You know that she knows you have not done your best work. And, to make matters worse, she knows that you know that you have not done your best work. “...Is this all ya got?” Suddenly, you’re feeling like you’re in some scene from The Godfather.
There’s a lot of talk about the Supreme Court these days, but we’re talking here in this text about THE supreme court. And when I think of appearing before that chief justice with my little paltry portfolio of good deeds, I go faint. Every time I read this Bible text, I know I’ve got goat written all over me.
One cannot read through the scriptures without coming to see that how we care for our neighbors is of exceeding importance to our God, and yet religious and civil leaders along with those they serve continually show a greater love for saying the name of Jesus than for doing that which is important to Jesus.
When author and publisher Jim Wallis was in Seminary, he and some classmates decided to try an experiment. They made a study of every single reference in the whole Bible to the poor, to God's love for the poor, to God being the deliverer of the oppressed. They found thousands of verses on the subject. The Bible is full of the poor.
Wallis says that one member of the group was a very zealous young seminary student and he thought he would try something just to see what might happen. He took an old Bible and a pair of scissors. He cut every single reference to the poor out of the Bible. It took him a very long time.
“So much of the Bible was cut out; so much so that when he was through, that old Bible literally was in shreds. It wouldn't hold together. Wallis says, “I held it in my hand and it was falling apart. It was a Bible full of holes.” Jim Wallis would often take that Bible out with him to preach. He would hold it high in the air above American congregations and say, "Brothers and sister, this is the American Bible, full of holes from all we have cut out," all we have ignored.
As we look at the preponderance of poverty in our world today; as we consider the institution of the church that is often more hidebound and exclusive than the most exclusive of stodgy, snobbish clubs; as we think of all the justifications we have made for our reticence when it comes to people in need; as we ponder all of these things in the light of this text, we should be nervous.
If our hope is in this text we are surely lost.
But our hope is not in this text. Our hope is in what comes next.
Following this last public discourse of Jesus, he is arrested, he is put on trial, he is beaten, he is crucified, enduring all the pain and humiliation of the cross so that he may take upon himself all our failures, all our sin, all the trash of our lives that separates us from God and his kingdom. Isaiah proclaims, “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep (or goats) have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”
With his stripes we are healed. That is our hope. And, strangely enough, it is a hope so great that it brings us right back to this daunting text. If the chief justice of THE supreme court has done this for us, how can we express our gratitude to him? “For I was hungry, and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”
Even our best works will not get us into the kingdom of heaven but the redemptive love of Jesus will open our eyes to the presence of Christ our king as he roams among us, revealing himself to us most poignantly in the weak, the disenfranchised, the poor, the stranger.
So, your hope is not to get the ticket that is your life validated. Rather, our prayer for life should that our Lord would open our eyes to his presence in everyone we meet. In gratitude for what Christ has done for us, our prayer should be that His Spirit would prompt us to approach all people as we would approach him.
Every time compassion moves us, every time we give someone the benefit of the doubt, every time our attention is directed to the visitor in our midst, it is not our will but Christ’s Spirit moving us beyond our limitations, prompting our awareness of his presence.
“For I was hungry, and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.” May mercy lead us to mercy, for that is where we will meet the chief justice of THE Supreme Court. Amen.