One Man's Web

Being Loved

I knew one of the saints. They were strong, resourceful, brave, full of persistence. Something terrible had happened in their life, I think, and they carried that with them, as we often do. They carried it by imagining a view of the world, and of God, which helped them survive, but which had set hard like concrete. I fear it meant they died longing to be loved, not able accept the love being offered them, isolated and trapped. I mourn for them still.

Their final and lasting gift to me was to wake me up to my own predicament. I was thinking of them one day when it occurred to me that I was precisely the same. Different issues perhaps, but just as trapped in now reflexive responses which I learned in order to survive as a child and teenager, and which now invade everything like couch that's got loose in your garden, and which seems even less eradicable.

At some levels we can do things to help ourselves when we are in a place like this. I have half stumbled across, half taught myself, some techniques which have given me a startling level of freedom. But they barely touch the central misery of my imprisonment. That was laid down in the bones since early childhood, and assiduously, albeit unconsciously, practised ever since. The only answer to that, I think, is to practise being open to God's grace, to seek to be open to what healing that gives, and to be patient.

The reading I am addressing today tells us a lot about how to be open to healing. (Matthew 25:31-46)

³¹ ‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, ³³ and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. ³⁴ Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; ³⁵ for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, ³⁶ I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” ³⁷ Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? ³⁸ And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? ³⁹ And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” ⁴⁰ And the king will answer them, “ 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.” ⁴¹ Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; ⁴² for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” ⁴⁴ Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison ⁴⁶, and did not take care of you?” ⁴⁵ Then he will answer them, “ Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” ⁴⁶ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.’

This is Matthew's last story before the narrative of Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection. The literary conventions of the time clearly said to people that this story is the story you must understand in order to understand the story of Jesus' life, death and resurrection.

I think many many of Jesus' listeners were profoundly upset—and angered—by this story. Not because it was new, everyone knew this story. They might have argued about the details, but the great hope of Israel was that a day of righteous judgement would come. (In fact the story is a "replay" of Daniel Chapter 7.) And people knew that good and law abiding folk would inherit the Kingdom God had prepared. And that the others who had not done this would pay a heavy price. And, just like today, some of the so-called "good" people were very good at telling the "not good enough," just how much, and where, they were going wrong!

The problem with this story was that Jesus changed it! He said the issue of just who would "inherit the Kingdom prepared for them since the foundation of the world" had nothing to do with them being (so-called) "good." And who missed out had nothing to do with not being good. It was all about who had compassion on the outsiders; the poor and hungry, those in prison etc.

And… if anyone spent a bit longer thinking about the story, and letting it touch them… then, as we do today, they would have discovered a "logic bomb"– a sort of divine virus of the Spirit which would worm its way around in their mind and re-code everything they thought they knew about judgement!

The idea that those who inherited the kingdom was all about who had compassion on the outsiders, the poor and hungry, was not only unexpected. It would have seemed outrageous for many people. This is because the poor and the hungry and the prisoners deserved it! They were poor and hungry and in prison because they had broken God's rules. So many folk would have said to the king, "But if I had helped them I would have been contradicting God! You know this! 'The sins of the fathers are visited upon the children to the third and fourth generation.' (Exodus 20:5) Even your disciples said of the blind man, 'Who sinned, this man or his parents?'" (John 9:2)

Perhaps you've met that line of impoverished Christian thinking which marvels at how lacking in compassion some of Jesus' country-people were.
Or how law bound and unfeeling Jews were. That is an ancient and profoundly unChristian tradition—a lie—which conveniently lets us ignore the fact that we think poor people deserve it! "Commit the crime, do the time," we say. Or, "You chose to take drugs." Etc. (And we conveniently ignore the prophets' and rabbis' calls across the centuries for justice to roll down like waters.) (Amos 5:24)

We have a word for this: schadenfreude: taking pleasure in the misfortunes of others. Schadenfreude helps us hide the fact that, as Paul said, we "are doing the very same things." (Romans 2:1) And blaming the poor and the sick also lets us ignore the structural injustices of society in which we are all often (unavoidably) complicit.

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Well... today's text suggests that to blame the sick or the poor, and not help them, might be to armour myself against God's healing grace in the most effective way possible!! It's about the best way—should I say the worst way—to keep myself miserable!

That's because it clearly says that when we had compassion on "one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” It is Jesus who coming to us in these people who, like us, are members of his family. And when we reject those people, we reject Jesus!

This I find to be true. I have had some wonderful teachers and friends; some of them are here in this congregation. But the poor, and the sick, the outcast, and the undone, and the unhinged, and the embarrassing people—all the ones who frighten me, and so clearly show me how inadequate I am—they… they have led me into profound healing when I have tried to be along side them.

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I want us to be at peace here. The Kingdom has been prepared for us, for all people, "from the foundation of the world." God will not be prevented from bringing me, or you, into that Kingdom by our petty vindictiveness or hatred, or whatever it is we do to shut God out. But I know too well that I can make myself utterly miserable in the meantime.

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Let me tell you a midrash, a story that builds upon a Scripture story: Everyone is taunting Jesus on the cross, even the thief hanging on one side of him. But the one on the other side of him said," Lord, I rejected the poor and the sick and the prisoners. And I rejected you. I am so sorry." And Jesus said to him "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise." And Jesus will stay on the cross for us until every last one of us gives in.

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Now all these stories are "a poetry" as my mentor Nairn Kerr used to say. They are trying to put into words a mystery of love and grace that is too large for us to understand. But let me be unpoetic, if you like: Compassion which is kind, and generous, and seeks to love all people just the same, especially those society whom claims are undeserving... this sort of compassion strips the armour which encloses our minds. It unlocks the bars around our hearts. It lets us see and feel grace, and grasp hold of the healing of God. It breaks apart the concrete which has imprisoned. us. And God heals... in Gods' way... in Gods' time. Amen.

… … And a warning about the logic bomb… because it changes everything, and it's perhaps the best of the good news. If God lets people into the Kingdom of Heaven who have not done the right thing, then, does that not imply that in the end, God will let in those who didn't do the right thing and welcome Jesus as the poor and the sick!? Do you see how we've been indoctrinated to think of God as a harsh judge, and forget that God is God, and that God looked at Creation and said "It is very good." Do we think God will let our petty inhumanities and rebellion and idolatry stop the completion of Creation!? Do you see that Creation – capital C – includes us—you and me? Or to put it another way, in Eugene Petersen's words, "God loves you. God is on your side. God is coming after you. God is relentless." ⁱAmen (again.)

Andrea Prior (Dec 2025)

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