Sunday, August 31, 2014

Sermon: Sowing Love - A Life of Justice and Compassion: The Social Justice Tradition

Matthew 25:31-46 (Isaiah 58:1-11)
Sowing Love
A Life of Justice and Compassion: The Social Justice Tradition
James Sledge                                                                                       August 31, 2014

One of my favorite seminary professors had a saying that I use a great deal. He said that the Jesus and the entire Christian enterprise is about creating  “true communion with God in true community with others.” It was his way of linking love of God with love of neighbor, and it aptly depicts the cross-shaped life of faith that reaches up to God but also out to others.
Human beings most always neglect one of these dimensions. For the religious sort, it is often the horizontal that suffers most. Think of the language Christians sometimes use to describe faith. “I go to church every Sunday, and I read my Bible and pray  daily.” You and me, God; you and me.
A similar problem can inflict people who are less church centered but still interested in spirituality. Spirituality can become a one dimensional pursuit of intimacy with God. You and me, God; you and me. That’s a distortion of true Christian spirituality. One of my favorite writers and spiritual teachers, Father Richard Rohr, operates a center that seeks to train people in the Christian mystical tradition so that they may serve compassionately. To me, this epitomizes a true, holistic and integrated spirituality.
In similar fashion, the unknown prophet sometimes labeled “Third Isaiah” struggles to help the people of Israel integrate both the divine and neighbor dimensions of the spiritual life. The people addressed by the prophet have done all the religious rituals correctly. They’ve attended worship; they’ve said the right prayers; they kept the appointed festivals and fasts. But none of this has transformed their relations with the other, the neighbor, and so the prophet describes another religious ritual or fast, one that undoes injustice, feeds the hungry, houses the homeless, and clothes the naked. No doubt Jesus knew these verses well. Perhaps he even has them in mind when he speaks of a final judgment based on the sort of religious rituals found in our Isaiah passage.

There’s an old Jewish folk tale about a young rabbi who wanted more than anything else to meet Elijah the prophet.  (Elijah, unlike others in the Old Testament, had not died but been taken up to heaven in a whirlwind and so could return.) The father of this young rabbi told him that if he diligently studied Torah with his whole heart, he would indeed meet Elijah.
The young rabbi studied diligently for a month, but did not meet Elijah. He complained to his father, but the father only scolded his impatience and told him to keep studying.  One evening as the rabbi was hard at his studies, a homeless beggar came to his door. The fellow was disgusting to look at; the young rabbi had never seen an uglier man in all his life. Annoyed at having been interrupted by such an unsavory character, the rabbi shooed the man away and returned to his studying.
The next day his father came and asked if he had seem Elijah yet. “No,” replied the son. 
“Did no one come here last night,” asked  the father. 
“Yes,” replied the rabbi. “An old tramp.” 
“Did you wish him ‘shalom aleikhem’?” asked the father, referring to the traditional greeting meaning “Peace be upon you.”
“No,” said the rabbi.
“You fool,” cried his father. “Didn’t you know that that was Elijah the Prophet? But now it’s too late.” The tale goes on to say that for the rest of his life, the rabbi always greeted strangers with “Shalom aleikhem,” and treated them with great kindness.[1] (The ending of this tale perhaps better understands the purpose of prophecy than we tend to, not as prediction of future events, but as motivation for changed behavior.)
Anyway, this rabbi made the same mistake as the goats in our gospel this morning. In this tale of judgment, both the sheep and the goats call Jesus “Lord.” “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry..?”  They know who Jesus is. They call him Lord, but only some have realized what it looks like to follow him. Not that there should be any confusion. Early in his ministry, at the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is quite clear about this, saying, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” And clearly the will of the Father includes feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, providing clothing for those who need it, caring for the sick, visiting those in prison, and showing compassion for those considered “least.”
I imagine that many of us resonate with what Jesus says. We’re bothered by the suffering and pain we see in the world. We don’t like it when people trumpet their Christian faith but then spew hatred toward those who are different from them. And yet… most of us see people in need every day without asking what we can do to help. Most of us are well off financially compared to many who live around us, but our lifestyles consume most of our income. Few of us have ever visited a prison. Most all of us have a least a little goat in us.
There are many different reasons for why we sometimes act like goats rather than sheep. But I worry that confusion about what it means to be a disciple is one big reason. We live in a results oriented culture that judges everything by whether it’s effective or not. Coaches must win, and quickly. CEOs must increase profits. Attorneys must increase billable hours. Teachers must raise student test scores. Students must excel and get into good colleges. And we sometimes try to plug the Christian life into this worldview, thinking discipleship is about results.
But Jesus does not measure us by numbers and results. He comes to share God’s love with all of us, and especially with those who are “least.” And he calls us to lives where our hearts and actions are ruled by love. Jesus does not call us to hectic, stressful lives of results, performance plans, and measurable outcomes. Rather he calls us to lives of love and service. Jesus says to us, “Well done,” not based on numbers or results, but on our lives being marked by compassionate caring for others, especially for the last and the least.
Especially when we’re in a results oriented mindset, the overwhelming nature of some of the world’s problems can sometimes paralyze us, make us think there’s nothing we can do. What resources do we have to face the huge issues of poverty, racism, injustice, or inequality? But renowned priest and spiritual teacher, Henri Nouwen wrote that these are the wrong questions. Instead he asks, “Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone's face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love?' These are the real questions. I must trust that the little bit of love that I sow now will bear many fruits, here in this world and the life to come.”[2]
Each of us has countless chances to sow love. As individuals, we frequently encounter strangers who could use our welcome. Most of us are able to volunteer at Welcome Table. We can speak out for justice or against racism. We can live more simply so we can share more of what we have. We can stand up for someone who is being gossiped about or maligned. And together as a congregation, we have even more opportunities to work with each other to offer welcome and healing and caring and compassion and love.
According to Jesus, this sowing of love, the acts of caring and compassion that we do, are every bit as critical to our spirituality, to our lives of faith, as prayer, reading scripture, or gathering here for worship. They are how we exercise our hearts and fit them for the kingdom of God. They are an essential part of building a place of true communion with God in true community with others.
And when that happens, when God, and God’s love, lives and moves and works in us, oh what a witness to our community, and to the world, we become.


This is the fifth in a six-part sermon series exploring various facets of Christian spiritual formation and a well-balanced spiritual life. Today’s sermon focuses on a life of justice and compassion as part of “The Social Justice Tradition.” The series concludes next Sunday with a look at a life founded on the Word via “The Evangelical Tradition.”



[1] From “The Tramp” in Ellen Frankel, The Classic Tales: 4000 Years of Jewish Lore (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, Inc. 1993) pp. 604-605.
[2] As quoted by Robert Ellsburg in The Saints Guide to Happiness (New York: North Point Press, 2003)

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