Our Engagement with the World

Christ the King Sunday
November 23, 2008

The Reverend Susan Beth Pinkerton

Today is Christ the King Sunday, the Last Sunday after Pentecost. It is the culmination of our liturgical year which began last year with the beginning of Advent. Therefore, it is fitting that both our readings for today, the Hebrew scripture of Ezekiel and Matthew’s Gospel, give us a most eloquent and succinct understanding of the nature of Christ’s Kingdom of Heaven, who we are and what we are called to do.

Ezekiel, like any good prophet, gives us a sobering message to jolt us out of our hazy complacency. Israel is exiled in Babylon and Jerusalem has been destroyed while the self-serving leaders of the people have abandoned and forgotten the very people they have been empowered to protect. Ezekiel responds to this crisis. God is portrayed as the strong-minded, no-nonsense shepherd who goes out to gather the scattered sheep of his flock. He will gather those who are weak and lost, promising to “bind up the injured” and “strengthen the weak,” comforting those that have been bullied, abused and taken advantage of by the stronger ones of the flock (v. 16). Those who have “pushed with flank and shoulder and butted at all the weak animals with their horns”…God vows to judge them and in so doing, “feed them with justice” (v. 21, 16). Ezekiel makes it clear that judgment is God’s providence alone. We are not the judgers but the ones who will be judged.

Upon hearing Ezekiel’s prophetic announcement of God’s judgment, most of us feel quite secure in the assumption that we are those lost sheep that God will seek out, binding up our wounds while providing us with good pasture and fresh watercourses. But, then again, maybe not…

Matthew’s Gospel message is also one of judgment but in such a way that it gives one pause before making such an assumption that we are in the clear. Jesus’ time is almost up. Knowing he will be arrested and crucified within a few days, Jesus minces no words as to the message he imparts to those who will follow him.

In the Kingdom of Heaven Christ the King does the judging, separating the sheep from the goats. Matthew holds no punches in telling us that the criteria for who’s in and who’s out, who’s the sheep and who’s the goat, is based on how we choose to engage the world. There is no discussion about theology, ritual or any type of religious issues. It boils down to those who have lived righteous lives, who have feed the hungry, visited prisoners and cared for the sick, are the sheep that are placed at the King’s right hand, a place of honor, because in doing these acts of charity and kindness, we have done these things to God. However, those who have not done these things are placed at his left hand. They are the goats who are cast out and condemned into eternal punishment. To have denied and dismissed the “least of these” of these things is tantamount to having denied and dismissed God.

But there is a crucial twist to this parable – neither the sheep nor the goats know if and when they did or did not do these things to and for God. Only God knows. The sheep have to ask, “when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” (v.37-39) They gave no thought that God was even watching. On the other hand, the goats want to know how is it that in ignoring the poor and marginalized, they are indicted and pronounced guilty for having denied God. Both the sheep and the goats are clueless, not knowing who, when and where Christ was present among them. And we are in the same quandary.

About twenty years ago I volunteered to work at a homeless shelter in Denver. That first day I recall being extremely uncomfortable and intimidated by the idea of working with the homeless. I worked the reception desk, handing out towels and giving general information to the clients who sought food and shelter from the bitter cold. I will never forget the brief encounter I had with one man. Just as I was gathering up some towels to hand over to this disheveled, dirty and gaunt looking man, I looked up into his tired face. As our eyes met, I was immediately struck by the incredible color of his eyes and the soul-piercing power of his gaze. This encounter lasted only a moment but it has remained with me ever since. From that day forward I have been both haunted and comforted by that briefest of encounters. In some mysterious way, I knew that I had indeed met Christ in that tired and weary face.

This is the kernel of truth we glean from Matthew’s Gospel. We are to treat everyone, no matter who they are or what they have done, as if they are Christ. We are to be vigilant, caring for those that live on the margins of society as if he or she were Christ himself, no matter how alienated or disgusted or outraged by his or her behavior or condition. No one is excluded, especially not the “least of these.” Christ calls us to take off the blinders from our eyes and see ourselves as he see us. Looking through the lens of love and charity, he bids us to see the interconnection of our lives on the most basic and intimate human level. There is no way around the sobering fact that what I do or don’t do to my neighbor affects me and those around me. We are one.

No one said this more eloquently than John Donne, a 17th century English priest and poet.

No man is an island. entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions
Meditation XVII
Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris.

Four centuries later, we still wrestle with the idea that the lives of all humankind are interwoven into the same seamless fabric with each other and with Christ. We are a living, breathing mosaic of humanity, made in the image of God. Christ calls us to be engaged in the world on the most intimate and profound level - just as he was. He spells it out to us in the most fundamental images: Visit the sick and those in prison; feed and clothe the poor; and, welcome the stranger. We are given the freedom to make the choice to become involved with the world, loving our neighbors as ourselves. This is what it means to be the living Body of Christ.

Matthew is a hard text for us all. It makes us uncomfortable. It challenges us to consider the immanence and transcendence of God in our own lives and in everyone we encounter.

Last summer, while working at Trinity Wall Street, I have had the good fortune of interviewing a variety of folk in New York City who are actively engaged with urban ministry. They are simply doing the work God has given them to do.

One such person is the Rev. Martha Overall, rector of St. Ann’s Church of Morrisania in the South Bronx. Located in the poorest congressional district in the country, St. Ann’s parish-size community is an island of hope, providing a much needed “oasis from urban stress in the midst of an inner city ghetto.” The prime object of her ministry has been the founding and running of the Freedom School for one hundred children in conjunction with an after-school literacy program for the surrounding neighborhood. She is passionate about the importance of loving the people one serves, which she states is paramount because this love “covers a multitude of sins.”

In mid-town Manhattan two women in a tiny office operate and administer Interfaith Coalition of Advocates for Reentry and Employment (ICARE). It is a non-profit organization in New York City founded by Ms. Rima Vesely-Flad and managed by the acting director, Ms. Susan Mareneck. The focus of this ministry is two-fold: 1) lobbying the New York state legislature for changes in statutes that counter recidivism and allow the reintroduction of released prisoners back into society as productive and independent citizens; and, 2) working with local congregations to provide emotional, financial and spiritual sponsorship of released prisoners as a means to help then reenter society with access to affordable housing, health benefits and viable employment.

The Rev. Elizabeth Maxwell is the interim rector of Holy Apostle’s Church in mid-town Manhattan. Liz has been with Holy Apostles for nineteen years, working with the parish as well as serving as the director of the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen (HASK), the largest soup kitchen in the country, serving over 1,100 hot meals a day, everyday, including holidays. They also coordinate with other social agencies that provide a multitude of services to their guests on site as well as providing referrals to other agencies. Their main focus is to provide a ministry of caring for their neighbors through the hospitality of their soup kitchen. Those who come to eat are welcomed as guests, seen as brothers and sisters in Christ. This radical hospitality includes a “ministry of connection,” which is the core of this outreach program, meeting with each guest, one-on-one, as they enter the beautiful nave, a sacred space, which is converted to a dining room when lunch is served. Through these connections, Liz believes that one encounters a true sense of the Holy.

Closer to home is the Capitol Hill Group Ministries. Last week I met the new executive director, Barfonce Baldwin. She was exuberant with the success of the Thanksgiving basket drive. Just a few days ago there had been little response and she wondered what they would be able to donate to the 65 families that were on a waiting list for a food basket. This past week more than 100 baskets came in from surrounding churches. Barfonce exclaimed how miraculous it was to go from such scarcity to such abundance in a matter of day. She was extremely grateful to St. Mark’s, who donated 20 of these baskets.

This is being engaged with the world in the best sense of the word. No matter where God has called each of us to be or do, Frederick Buechner reminds us that “the place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”^[1] And this is where we find our vocations as Christian; to be engaged with each other and the world, seeking and serving Christ that resides in each one of us. And this is where we find our “deep gladness.” Amen.

[1] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC, HarperOne: New York, 1993.