Equals

Scripture     Matthew 25:31-46

The scene: A church in America, two generations ago. It may as well have been yesterday.

It’s a church in the Commonwealth of Virginia – where I am from, as well as I imagine several of you. A church in the capital of the Confederacy – where I was born and raised (or, as I was taught to say in my Southern upbringing, born and reared). A Gothic, urbane church – what’s known as a status quo ante bellum church – the last two words referencing a nostalgic time before the most uncivil of American wars.

A church with the most Presbyterian name I have ever heard: Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church.

It was a sunny Sunday, just past noonday. The suits milled; the organ trilled. Worship was letting out at Grace Covenant Presbyterian Church. Faces and families similar to many faces and families here today began to beat their strategic retreat from the city to the county.

Amidst this recessional: one family’s family Ford. Riding on the hump in the middle of the back seat: that family’s youngest of three – wedged between his older siblings.

On that 1960s day – or so the story is told – this churchgoing family, en route home, encountered a detour. A route that would skirt them across the edge of one of the poorest sections of the city.

And the youngest – sitting on that back seat hump – could not press his face against the car window that day … as was his wont. But he could catch enough of a glimpse of his altered surroundings to feel at once both queasy and inquisitive.

Queasy and inquisitive enough to lean forward and pose a simple question to his father: “Daddy: Why can’t they get a mortgage like you got?”

In the tumultuous economy of today, perhaps the question that child might ask would be, “Daddy: Why can’t they take the mortgage that you got?”

Regardless: It more often than not takes the perception of a child-like faith – glimpsed through a tinted car glass darkly – to bring us face-to-face with Jesus’ words today.

For we all know that God comes in Jesus to and for us all. Much like we live our lives as disciples to and for others.

And, digging relationally deeper: We know on our best days that God comes in the very name of Jesus – Immanuel, God-with-us – to be with and among us. Much like we are called to live as disciples with and among the struggles and joys of others.

And yet, digging relationally deepest still: We discover something truly – radically – profound in our gospel passage today. God comes in Jesus as us. As our incarnational equals.

For did not our Lord and Savior say in an earlier biblical time – en route to his Jerusalem – that “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me”?

And did not our Lord and Savior then say today – en route to his Calvary – “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me”?

God comes in Jesus as us.

As our equal – in the form of children specifically, and the least of these in general, we encounter in our day-to-day discipleship.

Beginning with that child inside of us. And the least of these about ourselves we tether to the crosses we bear.

For it’s in those incarnational moments of grace when the child in particular and the least in general meet and greet and recognize each other that we most profoundly encounter the self-identification of God. “Daddy: Why can’t they get a mortgage like you got?” The face of Jesus. The face of his earthly equals.

“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name …

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these …

I believe the late pastoral theologian Henri Nouwen inherited the Spirit-wind well when he wrote, “Discipleship is not an ascent into popularity. It’s a descent into solidarity.”

A descent into solidarity, that we may encounter the face of Jesus in his equals.

Beginning with the child inside of us. And the least of these about ourselves we tether to the crosses we bear.

Discipleship. Not an ascent into popularity. A descent into solidarity. A descent – from showing God how good we are, to allowing God to show us how good God is. A descent – that we may encounter the face of Jesus in his equals – his incarnation – his very flesh: The least of these, in general … the children, in specific.

A mother of two, abused by her rage-addicted husband, was receiving pastoral care from two lay ministers of a church’s spiritual care team experienced in matters of domestic violence. After a few sessions with the lay ministers, the woman came to the decision – excruciating, yet necessary – to leave her husband and take their two children with her. There was no permanent place for them to live. For she had come to the conclusion that, for them, life might become harder – but it would certainly become safer.

After the woman had departed in tears from the church office where they had been meeting, one of the lay ministers looked over to the other, smiled, and said, “I am so glad we were given the opportunity to represent the Christ to that woman today.”

  

You may see where this is going.

The second minister was taken aback. “We were given the opportunity to be the Christ to that woman today?! We were given that opportunity? My dear friend: That woman represented the Christ to us! ‘As you did it to the least of these, you did it to me!’”

A child … on the hump.

A woman with children … on the move.

Encountering the face of Jesus in the face of his equals: the least of these.

And soon, through the five-year lease of the Del Ray Club here it could be for us at Bethesda Presbyterian an alcoholic on the brink …

Encountering the face of Jesus in the face of his equals …

In the children specifically: our Bethesda Montessori School, here.

In the least of these, generally:

  The hungry at our weekly Saturday morning lunches.

  Our Rebuilding Together Montgomery County annual outings.

  And Del Ray among us … Certainly.

But now, here’s the hardest part of all:

We encounter the face of Jesus in the least of these in another place, as well.

In our mirrors, each morning.

In ourselves.

Whoever has ears to hear … let them hear.