The Pastor is IN: Sermon: "Saving the Sheeple"

Scripture Intro - Matthew 25:31-46

In this last week of the lectionary cycle, as we lead up to season of Advent – we encounter Jesus here in the gospel of Matthew speaking just before his death, giving his disciples some farewell instructions and some advice on what to do as they await his return.

Whether we’re awaiting the first coming of Christ – as we do in Advent –

or the second coming, as many do in the church in our own time - the advice that Jesus has to offer applies to us all: Be wise, be watchful, be ready.

And while you’re waiting don't just sit around imagining how great the world will be with Christ in it: use the gifts God has given you to bring about a bit of the Kingdom of God here and now. Give yourself away. Abundantly.

Give yourself away as if you were giving to Jesus himself.

But fair warning, the text from Matthew’s gospel we’re about to hear is not just a gentle reminder to do unto others as we would have done to ourselves.

There’s some “stuff” in here that is difficult for many of us to hear – especially when it’s presented as coming out the mouth of Jesus.

It’s here that Jesus talks about the day when he will return as the divine shepherd and judge - to separate the sheep from the goats.

And if we’re judged to be one of the goats, we have eternal fire and punishment to look forward to.

This kind of apocalyptic imagery was a literary device that the writer of Matthew’s gospel in particular was very fond of using – but as Biblical scholars tell us, apocalyptic writing was a less a prediction of things to come and more of a statement about the times as they were.

In uncertain times, when the evil deeds of others seem to go unpunished, being certain about their destiny – and ones own destiny - before God, offers a sense of security that can be very comforting.

As we listen to this passage, if this apocalyptic imagery fails to resonate with you, try to keep your focus on the good news that Jesus has for us here:

The revelation that God is creating a world where the hungry will be fed, the stranger will be welcomed, and the sick and imprisoned will be cared for.

And by seeing Christ in everyone we meet, we can help make this world a reality.

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

The Congregational Church of Amherst, NH

November 26, 2017 – Christ the King Sunday

Ezekiel 34:11-24; Matthew 25:31-46

“Saving the Sheeple”

There are two kinds of Christians in the world.

There are those who read this text from Matthew and their attention is drawn to the verses about Jesus returning on Judgment Day to separate the sheep from the goats, sending the righteous into the Kingdom of Heaven and the accursed into the eternal fires of Hell.

And there are those who read this text from Matthew and their attention is drawn to the verses where the shepherd Jesus calls us, his disciple sheep, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, and visit the sick and imprisoned, for in doing so it’s as if we’re caring for Jesus himself.

For the first group of Christians – this is a text about judgment,

and right behavior, and saving oneself from eternal damnation in hell.

For the second group of Christians – this is a text about compassion, and mercy, and saving others from a life of hell here on earth.

But before we pat ourselves on the back because we count ourselves among the latter group who hears a call for compassion in Jesus’ words rather than judgment, let’s consider the other message that Jesus has for us in this parable about sheep and goats -

the message we hear behind the similar responses that the people have to Jesus’ words about serving others:

“Lord, when was it that we DID or DID NOT feed you, or clothe you, or welcome you, or visit you when you were sick or in prison?”

Neither the sheep nor the goats seem to know which group they belong to – because they don’t recognize what they have done or have not done to serve Jesus through service to others.

So, perhaps there’s only one kind of Christian in the world.

The kind who thinks he’s a sheep - or a goat – and is mistaken either way.

Because we’re human – and we can’t help but see patterns everywhere -

we have this overwhelming urge to separate people into categories.

The good and the bad.

The deserving and the undeserving.

The innocent and the guilty.

The winners and the losers.

But even if we accept that no human being is perfect -

that we all are capable of being hurtful, and unmerciful, and selfish at times,

we still insist on having distinctive categories on this continuum - with the mostly good on one side and the mostly bad on the other side.

The problem is, when we try to place ourselves on this continuum of winners and losers, we may be way off the mark, as Jesus suggests.

Not necessarily because we’re deluded or think too highly of ourselves,

but because we often lack the perspective to see the whole picture.

Douglas Adams – the British novelist who wrote The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy - tells the story of something that happened to him when he went to catch a train to London many years ago.

He had some time to kill so he went to the station cafeteria and purchased a newspaper, a cup of coffee, and a package of biscuits - or cookies as we call them here in the states.

He sat down at a table that was already occupied by an average looking businessman, who gave Adams a friendly nod as strangers often do, and went back to reading his newspaper.

Then, as Adams sipped his coffee with the package of cookies in front of him, the man did something that shocked him.

He reached across the table, picked up the package of cookies, tore it open, and ate one of the cookies.

Adams admitted that the unexpected social faux pas is one thing that the English don’t cope with easily.

What do you do when someone has obviously taken something of yours right in front of you?

Adams said he did what any proper Englishman would have done –

he pretended like it didn’t happen.

He waited a few minutes, sipped his coffee, and then reached over and pulled one of the cookies out of the package for himself and ate it.

The man, who also seemed to be following proper English etiquette by not making eye contact with Adams, responded by reaching into the package again, taking a second cookie and eating it.

Adams said at this point, he felt even more awkward speaking up about this obvious theft, since he’d let it go the first time, so instead he casually took another cookie for himself and ate it, while inside he was seething at the obviously boorish and entitled behavior of the stranger seated across from him.

This alternating cookie consumption went on for several more painful minutes – with Adams getting more and more internally agitated - until there was only one cookie left in the package.

Then with the announcement of a departing train, the stranger got up, gathered up his things, and reached into the package and took the last cookie – and just as Adams was about to explode with righteous anger– the man handed the cookie to Adams and left.

Adams said he just sat there, stewing over the fact that this stranger likely thought he was the generous one for offering Adams the last cookie.

Then the announcement came that the train to London had arrived at the platform.

Adams reached over and picked up his coffee and his newspaper –

and there underneath the paper was the unopened package of cookies that he had purchased.

We often don’t recognize when we are the sheep or when we’re the goat.

There are times when we feel like we’ve been wronged and we carry anger towards someone in our hearts, that’s based on an assumption,

a misperception, or erroneous information.

There are times when we think we’re doing something good for someone that in the long run turns out to be hurtful.

There are times when the needs of others go unmet because we’re simply not aware of them.

There are also times when we could be accused of being a goat –

of not seeing Jesus in the eyes of others - but we feel the need to lift up a well reasoned argument in our defense.

When we consciously walk past someone asking for money on the street because we don’t know if they’re trying to scam us.

When we make time to visit the sick but we’ve never visited anyone in prison, because someone with a criminal record is way down on our list of those deserving of our time and compassion.

When we resist welcoming the stranger because their religious beliefs, or political views, or immigration status makes them unwelcome in our eyes.

When we don’t think twice about adding another stylish coat to our wardrobe while someone with no coat is shivering outside in the cold not far from where we live.

Even when we do our best to be good and faithful sheep – and see the face of Jesus all around us - it’s impossible for us to care for every person in need.

We only have so many coins to put into outstretched hands,

so many hours in a day to devote to work and family and community needs, and so many coats to give to charity when we’re already giving in so many other ways.

How much is enough?

How much is too little?

At what point do we move from being a goat to being a sheep?

And in today’s world, where so many are led astray by con artists, fake news, and false shepherds, why would we even want to be a sheep?

While we may grasp the meaning and imagery of this ancient metaphor about Jesus being our shepherd who guides us and cares for us -

the metaphor often breaks down when we consider the disparaging image of sheep that many of us have today.

Sheep are thought to be stupid, and easily led down the wrong path, as they fall in line behind a leader without questioning where they are going.

Many people have left organized religion behind because they equate it with sheep mindlessly following outdated traditions and harmful beliefs while ignoring empirical facts and modern understandings of the world.

And people on both sides of the political aisle have taken to calling those on the other side “sheeple” instead of people – as in “the sheeple will believe anything their leaders say because they’re gullible, and easily deceived, and aren’t smart enough to think for themselves.”

Sadly, the poor sheep get a bad rap in this regard.

Sheep are not that dumb.

Studies have shown that sheep have an IQ level just below pigs, which are often thought to be intelligent animals.

There was a flock of sheep in Yorkshire, England that figured out a way to get over the cattle grids in the road by lying down and rolling over them on their backs. That’s pretty smart if you ask me.

Sheep also have the ability to recognize the faces of up to 50 individuals - sheep and humans – and they remember those faces for up to two years after having last seen them.

Sheep build strong relationships with one another – and have demonstrated the ability to find their way out of a maze much faster when they’re shown pictures of their sheep friends waiting at the exit.

Sheep will often be wary and hesitant to approach a new sheep added to the flock that they don’t recognize, but will gather around and welcome a sheep that has been missing from the flock for quite some time.

Perhaps we have more in common with sheep than we care to admit.

So why do we have this need to place ourselves in one box or the other –

as a sheep or as a goat – rather than recognize that we have the capacity to be both – at different times in our lives and even from one moment to the next?

As noted in our introduction to the gospel reading, we can blame Matthew for this image of the sheep and goats being separated on judgment day.

We struggle with these apocalyptic texts because we don’t understand that they were often used as a subversive code for speaking about the present day world the people lived in - socially and politically.

Whether we’re talking about the second coming of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew or the strange symbolic visions of the Book of Revelation – Apocalyptic writing is an ancient literary genre that baffles us because it fell out of use over time.

Imagine 2000 years from now, if Science Fiction no longer exists as a genre, and people unearth a copy of the screen play for Star Wars - and than read it as if it were an accurate prediction of the future.

While they immerse themselves in Jedi training and wait for Darth Vader to attack, they might miss the message that George Lucas embedded in his story – the message that people led by the forces of good have the power to overcome the forces of evil.

Because light always reveals the truth that the darkness hides.

When we look beyond the framework that Matthew gives us in his story,

we find a God who longs to know us and be known by us.

A God who desires to be seen in the eyes of the hungry, and the naked, and the stranger, and the sick and imprisoned.

A God who on the so-called Judgment Day is seemingly uninterested in how many commandments we’ve broken or what we believe about the nature of Christ himself.

And instead separates us into those who did something in the face of need, and those who did nothing.

Perhaps not to punish us, but to ask us,

“Where were you when I needed you?”

The belief that we belong to either one group or the other – the saved or the damned – is deeply entrenched in our Christian DNA.

But as sheep called to follow where our shepherd leads, perhaps it’s time to pick up our heads and take note of the path that Jesus laid out before us.

The one lined with opportunities to practice compassion, mercy, and grace.

The one lined with our fellow travelers on this journey,

who look into our eyes expecting to see the face of Christ,

just as we expect to see Christ in them.

Thanks be to God, and Amen.