November 24, 2002 - The Generous Poor

In the church year calendar today is called "Christ the King" Sunday, rather than Harvest Sunday. So the gospel reading scheduled for today reflects that theme as we see Jesus ? called here "the Son of Man" ? as a King on a throne, judging people as either sheep or goats. And yet, in a way, the reading has a harvest theme too. This little, frightening drama of the Son of Man sitting on the throne and judging some to be sheep, directed to eternal life and judging others as goats, directing them to eternal punishment is, in a way, a harvest of another kind, a harvest of souls. John the Baptizer uses this image when he refers to Jesus in this way: "He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

Not your warm fuzzy Jesus here! I must admit that the judgement texts in scripture are not my favorite . . . I would guess they are not yours either! Some of you are familiar with the Jesus Seminar. The adult education forum is using a book authored by Marcus Borg, one of the scholars in the Jesus Seminar. In studying the Gospels they have tried to consider which things recorded as sayings of Jesus are most likely to be authentic sayings. I believe this drama of the sheep and goats was voted as "not an authentic saying." That comforts me some, but still, it is part of the New Testament witness, and part of the lectionary readings and so here it is!

You?ve heard the story many times. As you listen today, see if something touches you in a new way. Let us listen to our scripture reading for today.

When we walked into the art gallery, I was at once overwhelmed by its size, the brilliance of the colors and the terrifying subject matter. "The Last Judgement," a huge altar triptych by Hans Memling has been on display at the Milwaukee Art Museum for several months and is about to head back to its home in Poland. It is a monumental work, more than 7 feet tall and 10 feet wide. Recent restoration has brought back the original magnificence of the colors from 1471. If the size and age of this altarpiece doesn?t impress you, the subject matter surely will.

This last judgement features Christ, top and center in a flowing blood-red robe, seated on an extraordinary full circle rainbow, his feet resting on a gleaming golden globe. He is surrounded by the apostles along with Mary and John the Baptist. The figure of St. Michael stands on the earth directly below Christ holding huge scales in his right hand and a huge sword in his left. The souls of the resurrected are weighed on the scales where the majority are sent to the right side of the painting which portrays (in painful detail) the grim fate of the damned. On the left side of the painting we see a smaller band of righteous greeted by St. Peter as they are welcomed into paradise. As a docent at the museum said, "This teaching aid for the medieval church was designed, quite literally, to scare the hell out of you!"

There are no sheep or goats to be found, but the force of the judgement story is the same.

Judgement stories in words or images frighten me, I suppose in part because I secretly fear which way I would be sent. (Don?t you worry about the same thing?) I also don?t care much for this picture of an aloof God, coldly damning God?s precious creations to a horrible fate. The sheep and goat story and the judgement painting carry no signs of grace or justification or forgiveness of sins, as far as I can see.

Then in our scripture for today there is an idea that frightens me further when I think about it. Did you notice how both the righteous and the unrighteous respond to the Son of Man when he tells them what they have done? Both groups say, "Huh?" Both groups are surprised that Jesus was in the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and the prisoner. Neither group realizes what they have done ? right or wrong. I picture both groups, slack-jawed, staring incredulously at Christ and asking, "When?" I think of this passage every time someone rings the doorbell at church with a hard-luck story. When I can?t always help them, I wonder . . . have I missed the chance to help out Jesus in what Mother Theresa called the "distressing disguise of the poor?"

Wanting to stop thinking about my own fate and hoping to stick to a more positive consideration of the text, and I started thinking about whether I know anyone who might be surprised that they had served Christ by serving others. I thought of several. And the irony is, these people are the poor themselves. For them, Christ came in the distressing disguise of the "haves" rather than the "have nots." And in thinking about these people, I am inspired and hope you will be too, to be more generous, to open my heart and hand and home wider.

I met one of these people one summer when I was working with a home repair project for the people in the mountains of Appalachia. Her name was Mary. She and her children lived in a hovel on Pennington Hill. (A deceiving name for a tiny slum tucked back up in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky.) Another staff worker and I spent several weeks at Mary's house, with several work crews. There was much work to be done if she and her children were to be warmer, safer and drier. On our final day there, we were about to say, "Good-bye." when Mary came around the corner of the house. Reminding me of one of the three kings, she walked with her hands cupped in front of her. As she got closer we could see she was cradling a beautiful, plump,s ripe tomato she had picked from the scraggly plant at the back of the house. She offered it to us with a "Thank you for all yu'uns have done." I was embarrassed and deeply touched. Believe me, no other tomato ever tasted as good as one we ate on Mary's porch that day. She hardly had enough to feed herself and her children and yet out of her poverty, with a liberal heart, she had given to us. Her love was reckless, her giving was at a great cost to her.

Another year, on the same project one of our work teams came back with stories each day of the huge hot dinner the family made for the 7 workers at their home. It wasn?t until near the end of the week it dawned on us that the fresh green beans, the newly dug potatoes and the cornmeal for the spoon bread were probably food they would have canned for the long, lean cold winter months. They never let on what a great sacrifice they were making to feed these rich high school teens from "up north."

Now I?d like to tell a story about Ralph! He?d be too embarrassed to share it, but I hope you?ll indulge me in this story. His generous heart is one of the reasons I fell in love with him! When I was in graduate school, like most grad school students, we were poor. Ralph had a minimum wage job and even with a frugal budget the income was always less than the out go each month.

Ralph worked in a book store. Within a few weeks time, some unexpected money came his way. First of all the Mastercard company sent him $50.00 for destroying someone?s credit card who was using it for a purchase illegally. (Evidently there was some problem involving a messy divorce.) Not long after that as he was shelving some new stock he found an unmarked envelope among the books on the shelf with $50.00 cash in it. When he reported it to the police, they said essentially, after a prescribed number of days, "finders keepers." Suddenly we were $100.00 richer. In 1978, and given our situation, that was a large amount of money!

I don?t know if he was tempted to just spend it on us, but if he was, he overcame that temptation! I was inspired when I found out he had suggested to the other clerks at the store that we all go out to dinner together and put the $100.00 toward the total check so everyone could enjoy a great meal (It was Italian, by the way!) without much cost to each person.

My most recent experience with the generosity of the poor came on our sabbatical. After learning about an unusual addiction treatment program in a terrible part of north Philadelphia, we were introduced to one of the recovering women in the program. She had done well and was now a kind of housemother in one of the residences for women in treatment. She had started her own small business right there on the side walk outside the house. She unlocked the huge chest freezer to reveal cartons of colorful flavored frozen ice. Scooping up generous portions of electric yellow, neon blue and ruby red for all of us, she refused to take our money. It was a gift. It had to cut into her meager profits, but she smiled broadly and told us to put our money away. I was both embarrassed and inspired.

If Christ came to these various folks and said they had served him by serving others, they would look shocked and say,"When?" In this season of great blessing, harvest, thanksgiving and gratitude, I pray for my heart to be more open, my mind more willing to quit counting the cost, and my soul less needy to get credit for what I do. Will you join me? Amen.