Christ the King A: The Unexpected God
Dear Partner in Preaching,
Do you like surprises? I’ll be honest, I’m a little conflicted about them. Actually not all that conflicted, as I really like surprising others – with an unexpected visit or gift, for instance – but I really don’t like being surprised myself. A bit hypocritical, perhaps, but there you go. I think it’s that I like being prepared, feeling more or less ready for what’s coming, and surprises undermine that kind of confidence.
I ask this question because I think this passage turns on the matter of surprises. Notice that both those identified as sheep and those named goats are surprised by what Jesus says. “Lord, when did we…” and “when didn’t we…” both capture the shock each group expresses when Jesus commends or condemns their behavior.
But what exactly are they surprised by? That they acted either in a righteous way by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting the imprisoned or, on the other hand, in an unrighteous way by neglecting to do the same? Interestingly, no. Neither group denies their behavior. Rather, they are surprised by their failure to recognize the Son of Man. Or, more to the point, they are surprised by where the Son of Man hangs out.
No one, that is, expects to see Jesus in the face of the disadvantaged, the poor, the imprisoned, and all those who are in manifest need. Perhaps that’s to be expected. When we think of God, we typically think in terms of power and might and glory and all the rest. And, indeed, the parable begins by describing the coming of the Son of Man in glory to sit on his throne attended by angels, seemingly only reinforcing our preconceptions.
Yet might this be a deliberate set-up? The rest of the parable, after all, depicts this same royal figure as identifying with “the least of these” and thereby seems to undermine our tendency to look for God in places of power. If so, then this parable might not only call into question where we typically look for God, but actually reorient us to discover and experience God’s presence in our lives more fully than ever before.
In this parable, it seems to me, Jesus promises to be always with and for those who are in greatest need. Which means that if we want to experience God’s presence fully, deeply, and truly, we will look for God in the need of those around us and, indeed, in our own need as well. This is not, I realize, what we expect of God. We typically think of God in ultimate terms – all knowing, all-powerful, all-just, and so on. And that makes a certain sense, as we are talking about the creator of the cosmos and author of all life. But that’s not where Jesus invites us to meet, or be met by, God. And this act of condescension takes us by surprise, upsetting our expectations and disrupting our plans.
But maybe it shouldn’t, as the God we know in Jesus seems to delight in such surprises. After all, God didn’t come to reign over humanity at Athens or Rome or any of the other major cities where one would expect God to arrive, but rather – surprise! – God came to identify with us by being born in lowly Bethlehem in the form of a vulnerable infant. And God didn’t come to conquer the world with military or political might, but instead – surprise! – in the scandal, shame, and pain of the cross. So also God continues to come where we least expect God to be: in the plight of the homeless, on the side of the poor, in the face of the needy, and in the company of the imprisoned.
And that’s not all. If we are willing to suspend our expectations and live into the surprising reality of the God we know in Christ, then we are invited to meet God not in some distant eternal life or other-worldly reality but here and now, in the concrete and real need of our neighbors, just as they are invited to meet and be blessed by God as they tend to our needs as well. The God we know in Jesus is revealed, that is, not in power but in vulnerability, not in might but brokenness, and not in judgment but in mercy.
I know that this last one – about coming in mercy rather than judgment – may be, at least in this parable, the one that feels most like a stretch. After all, the whole parable seems to reach its climax when the Son of Man who comes in glory dismisses the unrighteous to eternal fire. But Jesus shares this parable on the way to the cross. Indeed, these are his last words before the beginning of his passion, an account that begins in the very next verse with these words: “When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples, ‘You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.’”
Which may mean that the Son of Man’s “coming in glory” does not anticipate some final judgment at the end of time but rather describes the unexpected revelation that the Son of Man and Son of God is revealed – as the centurion who crucified him confesses – most clearly in the cross. Perhaps Jesus says in this parable what he has been saying all along through his teaching and actions and what he will soon say in and through his very body: that God loves us and all the world so much that God has decided to identify with us fully and completely. And so we recognize God most easily in the face of our neighbor, meet God in the acts of mercy and service we offer and are offered to us, and live in the blessing of God as we seek to serve as Christ served.
And this seems to me like surprisingly good news: that God is with us, here and now, revealed in the fellowship of broken people we call church, made manifest in the ordinary elements of bread and wine, and available to us in the seemingly small gestures of mercy we offer and are offered each and every day. It may not be where we expect God to show up, but it is just where we need God to be.
Thank you, Dear Partner, for your willingness to share the news of God’s unexpected mercy and grace with your people. It will be the best surprise they receive all year.
Yours in Christ,
David
PS: As always, I welcome your insights as we work together at finding a fit and faithful word for Sunday.
great column on this passage, David. very helpful and full of creative symbols to draw on.
Thank you I am most inspired by your commentaries. Not only are we to see Christ in the brokeness of the world but also to see into the hearts of those who are hungry andin prison but also to see their heartswith the eyes of Jesus.
Thanks for this reflection. The church I serve has a ministry to many homeless people in our city, and I believe we do see the face of Christ in our neighbors in need. This week one of our neighbors wrote this prayer request: “Prayers needed, homeless couple, expecting a child soon, would appreciate any help.” I could not help but think that perhaps Jesus and his family were in our midst on Saturday afternoon.
I have been reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s “An Altar in the World,” and this passage (along with your commentary) made me think of something she says. The unfortunate tendency many have is to superimpose God’s face on those we think we are supposed to love/care for/be with. That is, we have a tendency to take others and place them in a role that is a part of our own little drama of how we are following God. Which, I suppose, is not altogether “wrong” if that’s where you have to start. But I think the goal is to really see those in need (including ourselves), warts and wrinkles and smelliness and all. And when we do, we see them as God sees them. And when we can love them as they are, that is when we truly see God.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it is easy to get the process backwards, maybe because, as you said, we need to be somewhat in control. So we slap the label “God” on the hurting people we encounter so that we don’t have to really see them. But what Jesus seems to be continually asking us to do, culminating in this passage, is really see one another as we really are – just as he does – and practice love (e.g. feeding, comforting, supporting, standing) BEFORE we see God there. And when we do, we see God emerge in the paradoxical alchemy of love meeting hurt/pain/fear/etc.
I know – we cannot love until God gives love to us. But God already has given love to us. And sharing that love with the least, the last, the lost seems to open a kind of divine wormhole where we can see God.
Personally, I think much of our burnout in trying to care for the least among us comes from all the energy we’re expending to keep the God shield in place. I know when I can see and love the ones around me, with the shields down, that is when I’m most energized, most renewed, and most likely to see Jesus grinning at me from the midst of the hurt and sorrow.
Just one partner’s perspective…
Here is a thought that comes to my mind. We’ve all heard the statement that Christ shows up in those who are powerless rather than those who are powerful. While it’s theologically true and it’s supposed to be a great shock, I wonder how many of us today are shocked by it anymore? (“Hey, you expect Jesus to be this powerful political leader, but instead he shows up in people who are poor and hurting. Surprise!”) Um, today, we know to look for Christ among those who are hurting. That’s what we’ve been taught and that’s what we teach others. Isn’t that why congregations have food pantries and clothing closets and operate ministries for those who are homeless? We know that he is there on the cross. It’s not that shocking to us anymore. If the point is that Jesus shows up with those whom we least expect, then today wouldn’t that be like saying that Jesus lives in the rich part of town? Or Jesus is in that Lexus? Or Jesus is right there with that celebrity televangelist? Those are statements that could shock us. (For example: how many congregations help the needs of those in the rich parts of town?) If the point is that the love of God shown to us in Jesus is for EVERYONE, then it includes those whom WE least expect too – the powerful, the rich, the famous. Now, in no way am I advocating for a theology of glory over the theology of the cross. I’m simply saying that if we want to feel the shock of Jesus being with those whom we least expect – like in this parable – then we need to think about who “those we least expect” are today. Jesus loves the rich and famous too, not just those who are down and out. Yet regardless of who “those we least expect” are, it’s not our status in life – rich or poor, famous or ignored – that makes Jesus identify with us and not with someone else. Rather, Jesus identifies with all of us because we are all human. Jesus identifies with you because you are human. He knows what you’re going through, regardless of who you are. My sermon isn’t really going in this direction, but it’s still something to think about.
A translation – or paraphrase of “least of these” I saw once that left a strong impression on me was “those for whom you feel least responsible.” The rich certainly fit that category. Interesting thought – and a counter to thinking about “the poor, etc.” in some sort of paternalistic sense – living “with” rather than living “for” those we categorize as “least.”
Well said. Quite honestly it shocked me this morning to have many of these same thoughts. I almost always throw something in about caring for the lost …. I started wondering; aren’t those in the boardrooms of the world just as lost as the rest of us? Wondering how to use that for this week’s sermon.
Peace
I like your comments on God being with the rich and poor alike…there are different ways of being rich and poor
When you recognize and accept your own brokenness then you can do likewise for everyone else you encounter as we are in fact Everyman /Everywoman
I enjoyed reading your comments
I am unsettled by the thought that it’s not only those in need in a general sense who show us God’s face, but also the individual I find annoying, the person whose complaints I don’t want to hear again and whom I struggle to respond to with compassion.
I am going to move people out of their box this week with this text. I am going to ask them to consider their vocations and their daily lives and think about how they have served in the past year. I am going to ask them to write one thing on a post-it note. During the hymn I am going to ask them to process and put their post-it notes on poster boards as we lift up the ways we serve and care for those around us. And, now with Dr. Lose’s insight, I am going to challenge them to make a New Year’s Resolution to serve in a new or additional way in the coming year.
Cassandra,
Thanks for the idea. I may do something similar with index cards that can be put in the offering plates. To show how our service is a way of giving back to God.
Thanks, too, David for you thoughtful commentary. I always find it worthwhile.
Greetings Everyone!
I wanted to take a moment and offer my profound thanks for all who actively participate in this forum… I find your thoughts and comments to be wonderful and very thought provoking. I am often stricken by how often the “Church” has used “Heaven” as the carrot at the end of the stick! I, like many of you, believe that the real beauty of Christ the King day is celebrating the indwelling of Christ “here and now!” Why would we want to wait to celebrate in a heavenly realm when we can rejoice, celebrate, and share God’s love with the world in our current realm! In the 168 hours available this week I would like to see “Christ’s presence” in as many of those hours as possible. This week, my hope and prayer is that I can get many within my community to desire the same!
Peace and blessings to you all
Jerry
Great idea!
Your words brought me to tears this morning. I thank God for you and for this message! I have visions of asking how people see Jesus and then cycling through pictures on the screens up front with faces of people of every kind: the poor, the distraught, the underprivileged, etc. and asking if these fit in their descriptions of Jesus as well. And then having them turn to see those sitting around close by and challenging them to see Jesus in these faces as well…because when it comes down to it, we’re all poor is something whether it’s feeling loved or having confidence. We’re all prisoners to something. We’re all hungry for purpose and true life. The truth that we can meet Jesus the moment any relationship begins, even with the change of a perspective, is humbling and exciting! I simply can’t wait to proclaim this Good News!
I love the theme of surprise that’s coming out here, David. You’ve been very helpful to me lately. Thank God for your reflections! I’m thinking of running with that, but using a different way of interpreting who “the least of these” base on Matthew 10:40-42 and a few resources I’ve been digging into.
Martin Luther wrote a sermon on this passage identifying “the least of these” as Christian people. In other words, the enemies of Christ will prove their hostility toward Jesus with the neglect and abuse of Jesus’ disciples, “the least of these my brothers.” (Sermons of Martin Luther, vol. 6, p.390)
D.A. Carson, in his Expositor’s Bible Commentary on Matthew says that “the least of these brothers of mine” are “apostles and other Christian missionaries, the treatment of whom determines the fate of all men. Those who receive them receive Christ; those who reject them reject Christ.” (p.519) Carson cross references Matthew 10:40-42 where Jesus promises a reward to anyone who gives even “a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple.” The language of “little ones” shared between chapter 10 and chapter 25 is a strong connection, suggesting that chapter 25 is not dealing with needy people in general, but with disciples spreading the Good News.
Maybe this passage isn’t about feeding the homeless, and serving at the food pantry, and handing a few dollars to someone on the street – not to disparage ANY of that activity. However, THIS passage might be a warning to those who would harm Jesus’ disciples. When people persecute Jesus’ brother-disciples, they are persecuting Jesus (as Jesus told Pharisee Saul in Acts 9:5). They are aligning themselves against Jesus. So, on the flip side, when people treat Jesus’ missionary-disciples well as those disciples spread the Good News, they are essentially treating the Lord Himself well.
Now, where any of this lands in a sermon might also be surprising.
My favorite NT prof., John Reumann, advocated this interpretation as well, and I’ve always found it persuasive. But…I also find Matthew’s use of it with a struggling, likely oppressed, and definitely minority religious community one thing but wonder how we might preach this angle and not devolve into triumphalism in our situation of relative ease, wealth, and power.
And this week, I’m bringing us back – that we meet God through Christ in the five bridesmaids locked out on the porch and the 3rd servant cowering in the darkness. The last two weeks, my sermons have ended with “wait… there’s more coming” and this is the wrap up we’ve been waiting for.
Wow! I’m looking for the “like” button. That is exactly what I was looking for… a connection (especially a “New” one) connecting the last 2 weeks. I’ve been in a stewardship series of the 3 weeks and have been drawing empathy for the “unwise” bridesmaids and the 3rd servant. Thank you for helping me get my brain working on this one as well.
One of our lay leaders has recently experienced a poverty-simulation. In her own words, “It was really awesome (in a sad way). It was a really powerful demonstration of what it’s like to be in poverty-a totally different perspective from what you get through service.”
Through the sharing of her experience, we have become excited about the possibility of having our congregants experience the poverty-simulation. This text is perfect for setting up a surprise: an invitation to the community to not only walk with the least of these, but to experience (if only in part) what it might be like to live as others do. Even better, it may very well provide an opportunity to see Christ’s face in new and surprising ways.
Thank you for your ministry, Dr. Lose. Know that many of us find your insights to be honest, refreshing and engaging.
Dear Billy:
hey you, I can see across the aisle, on the the other side. Remember when we were kids, we used to play and always have fun. I missed you so much when you had to move because of what Dad called the great separation.
This does not make much sense that this guy Jesus never referred to himself as a king, and the feast of the great separation was created in 1925 by someone called a pope.
I know you must be hurting.
Supposedly, I did the right things, and you didn’t
I gave someone to drink, and you didn’t
I was a sheep in a kid’s farm animal and made them happy, you didn’t
I clothed someone , you didn’t
At least they say you didn’t
You can give milk, I can’t …. I’ve seen you share your milk.
You can go to places like high mountains, I can’t …. I’ve seen you prodding
goat brothers and sisters up the hill to keep them from danger … I can’t … wolves all around us then …
People don’t expect much from goats, so I guess they miss any good you do.
Look, we gave our wool for clothing,
you give cheese for food ….
I really don’t understand the fuss. And the Jesus I know, he does not look very comfortable in that throne with a crown of jewels on his head and he doesn’t move around well in those cumbersome regal clothes they dressed him up in,
He doesn’t laugh much and get around to shepherding us …. his handlers make sure he stays put. I am sorry. I think he really would like you.
I heard the other night that he was able to sneak out, did you see him?
Dear Sheepy,
It has been absolute chaos here, Mom and Dad really miss playing cards with your Mom and Dad. Folks are pretty miserable here. And my teeth are getting worn from gnashing them. Jesus, did I see him …. I don’t think so …. I have been busy trying to get milk and cheese to the poor folks down the street. Seen Jesus? Was her wearing that royal crap. No haven’t seen him. Was he brandishing a scepter or walking around with his body gaurds, did’t see any of that.
I miss you too. Listen, I gotta go …. there are some hungry kids down the block.
Dear Billy,
chucks Billy, I think Jesus may be pulling our bluff again …..
I know a secret place we can meet, on the border where I heard Jesus was gonna come again and talk about peace, his handlers are having a conference on “Marketing the Jesus Experience”, so he is gonna get away and tell us something about the good news…… something called the beatitudes…. See ya there…….
Because of the reference to livestock in the passage I’ve got the phrase, “hey, it’s not my first rodeo” in my head. I think it’s related to the “when did I see you…” section. Jesus’ words are not new to his disciples they permeate his whole ministry. So seeing Jesus in all his glory is seeing Jesus and God’s face in this world particularly to those who are on the outside, those who are prodded and poked down the cattle shoot of the world’s expectations. thanks for this wonderful blog.
Thanks, again, for all your comments and keeping this community of the word going. As I read through many of them, one other thought came to mind, and that’s the power of being chosen (or of not being chosen). Whether chosen for the team, or not, chosen for a job, or a date, or a random prize, being chosen is powerful, and I think that’s part of our visceral response to this parable. But perhaps, if Luther’s counsel about good trees not being able to produce bad fruit, perhaps we might remind our people that they have already been chosen in Baptism, chosen to be sheep, chosen to care for “the least of these.” Just another thought.
All of this stuff about being chosen also reminded me of the beginning of a This American Life episode, The Kindness of Strangers. Great episode all the way around, but it’s the first 5 minutes that I recommend along these lines.
With my love and complete respect extended to bro “Brian Larson” above, I’ve read this specific argument in the past in different lights involving Matt 25:31-46.It’s an amazing coincidence I would’ve once attended a presentation by Dr. Carson while meeting an overseas missionary the same day at a church function. This event/speaking engagement took place at a local church several years ago per the graceful invite of a wonderful Christian there.
I cannot in any way shape, or form speak for Dr. Carson, first and fore most, and whether or not this would summarize his complete statement on the passage (He wasn’t preaching on Matthew that day); I also could never speak directly/first hand for the missionary having attended that I’m about to further reflect on, either.
Months after that day at the church, I was able to absorb specific commentary during a second visit by a friend of the missionary spoken of above who said he just arrived back from a short term trip overseas to visit the missionary and his family (They were longtime brothers in the church). That day, this man cited the difficulty the missionary was having involving a competing Christian missionary, in turn, whereby the Christian faith, and faith itself, was being replaced by a perceived notion of “Forceful indoctrination” by the other one.
Having never attended seminary, admitting also I’m not even a regular church attendee ongoing (Biggest goal withstanding), I graciously would cite for the spiritual reality, and context, of Christ’s Words here, for to do otherwise would seem to establish for a robotic intent to the passage, such by comparison to the heart inspired purpose as the Holy Spirit’s fulfillment in Christ the Person at the Cross, including for Jeremiah’s ch 31 promise.
Given his longstanding ministry for Christ the Lord, and w/ the firm notation, once again, that neither the missionary and/or friend once ever mentioned Dr. Carson across any context of any exchange, I’m guessing that Dr. Carson was likely, across one measure or the other, referencing the reality that Christ’s chosen people and their flocks can better allocate monetary resources as a theological argument, etc, for the very purpose of Christ’s decree in Matt 25:31-46 and what He Himself can do across His true leaders and flocks, etc.
As the personal life example would’ve played out, a blanket theology standard applied to such may have the capacity to work for good or bad across villages and nations, however.
The example as a whole would, thus, have its own way of defining (I believe) that the very power behind the finished work of the Cross begins, and ends, with His authority promised for in Dan 7, and that this very real decree inspired by Him in Matt 25:31-46 is at the heart of the Gospel itself.
I preciously thank each of you for this opportunity, also prayerfully hopeful each elder and child in Him can clearly distinguish my intent here, whereby there really are no firm answers, aside from the Holy Spirit’s own guidance across the finished work of the Cross-thank you so much