The question came to mind as I read an article a month or so ago about the noted theologian and author, the late Father Henri Nouwen.  The article was a tribute to Nouwen for a decision he made about 25 years ago.  In 1986, Nouwen left his position on the faculty of Harvard Divinity School to join the staff at Daybreak, a residential community for the mentally challenged located in Toronto.  What a dramatic transition this must have been—from working with some of the world’s brightest in the spotlight of constant recognition to laboring almost invisibly with people the world, more often than not, would like to forget.  A day at Harvard might include lecturing to a packed auditorium, an outside speaking engagement or an interview with the editor of an academic journal, advising a Ph.D. student and some time at the computer working on the manuscript of a new book — he authored of 40 books.  A day at Daybreak begins by helping others out of bed, then bathing and clothing and feeding them, and spending the rest of the day tending to their physical, emotional and spiritual needs.  Can you imagine such a transition?

When I read of Father Nouwen’s move, I must confess that my first reaction was puzzlement at why a person of such stature would do such a thing. Then I read his book, IN THE NAME OF JESUS, and discovered the answer to my question.  In that book, Father Nouwen raises a simple, yet profound, question of his own:  “Can we know Jesus without knowing the weak, the disenfranchised, the poor, the hungry, and the captive among us?”  How would you answer? I believe it is a question with which each of us must contend.  As you might expect, Nouwen answers his own question with the choice he made.  I suppose we could dismiss him as a priest with nothing really to lose.  Yet, when we read John Wesley, we hear a similar answer to the question in clear and unambiguous terms.  And when we tune into Jesus, particularly in our lesson from Matthew read earlier, an unmistakable answer to the question, “What does God expect of me?” emerges and, in turn, speaks to Nouwen’s question.  I invite you to come with me and look at what Jesus is saying to us.

Jesus offers us what some refer to as the Parable of the Last Judgment.  I find it more a vision.  The scene is the Son of Man, the resurrected and glorified Jesus, sitting on the throne with all the nations of the world gathered in front of him for judgment.  In this scene, I find three rather striking features which, I believe, speak to our questions.

The first of these striking features is what Jesus tells us will be the basis of God’s judgment.  Now I realize that many of us get uncomfortable with the idea of being judged by God.  We don’t even like to talk about it. However the message of the Bible is clear.  God does hold us accountable for how we live, what we have done or have failed to do.  Now Jesus speaks to the basis of this judgment.  He uses the common life image of a shepherd separating the sheep and goats at the end of the day.  He says that the king, God, will separate the faithful from the unfaithful just as the shepherd separates the sheep and the goats.  To the faithful, the sheep, says Jesus, the king will say, “Come you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you… 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, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you cared for me, I was in prison and you visited me.”  And the faithful reply, “Lord when, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and minister to you?”  And the king will answer, says Jesus, “As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

And then, says Jesus, the king will say to the unfaithful, the goats, “You are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 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.”  And the unresponsive will answer, “Lord, when, when did we see you in need and neglect to minister to you?”  And once again, says Jesus, the king will say, “As you did not do it to one of the least of these you did not do it to me.”

The basis of God’s judgment of you and me is clear and straight forward.  It is not our church attendance, though that is important; it is not our beliefs, though this too is important; it is not even our pledge, though this too is very important.  We will be judged on how we respond to those in need, the poor, the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger.  Nouwen’s question finds its first answer.  And we begin to know what God expects of us.

A priest friend of mine served a once prominent church on the East Side of Joliet.  Like many once prominent downtown churches, this church had fallen on hard times. The neighborhood was poverty-stricken, gang-infested, a tough situation.  Dick had led his congregation into several ministries to help—a soup kitchen, a PADS shelter, a needle exchange program and so on.  Not all his flock and even some of the Catholic hierarchy were supportive.  One day the Bishop stopped by to give him a warning.  No sooner had they sat down in Dick’s study than the door bell rang, Dick excused himself and did not return for about 20 minutes which did not please the good Bishop.  When he did return Dick said, “I apologize, Bishop, but Jesus was at the door again.”  The Bishop nodded and got up and left without saying a word.

The second striking feature of this vision is that both the blessed and the condemned are surprised at the verdict.  The blessed had no idea that they were serving Jesus when they reached out to a brother or sister in need.  They simply did what they felt called to do.  They ask, “When, When did we see you in need?”  Jesus replies that the king will tell them, “It was me in the person of the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the poor and the prisoner.”  Nor did the condemned realize it was Jesus they ignored.  They too ask, “When?”  And again, says Jesus, the king will say, “Surprise!  Surprise when you failed to reach out to the least, you failed me.”  Can you hear them plead, “But Lord, if we had known it was you…?”  “Too late,” says Jesus, “Too late!”

This is the “bite” in the vision.  If the story were only that those who do good are rewarded, and those not doing good receive punishment, the scene would be but a morality play, similar to those found in the religious literature of many cultures.  Parables and visions are meant to bite, to surprise us and force us to look at life in a new way.  Given the bite in this story, are you going to respond to the poor in a different way?

There was boy who lived for a number of years in a children’s home.  For grace at the dinner table each night, the superintendent would pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest and let this food for us be blessed.”  After hearing this prayer for many months, the boy asked the superintendent, “You always ask Jesus to come, but he never comes.  Will he come?”  The superintendent replied, “If we really want him to, he will.”  The boy thought, “I really want Jesus to come, so I’m going to put a chair beside me at the able so he will have a place to sit when he comes.”  That evening there was a knock at the door and standing there was a man poorly dressed, cold and hungry.  The superintendent invited him to join them for supper and he pointed to the empty chair.  The man sat down and the boy passed food to him and even shared from his own plate.  Later the boy said to the superintendent, “Jesus must not have been able to come, so he sent one of his friends,” Indeed he did, and indeed he does.

The third and final striking feature of the vision pulls the message into its conclusion.  The vision makes it clear that how we respond to the least among us is the measure of our faithfulness to Christ Jesus himself.  This focus became the hallmark of Methodism.  It is central to what we believe. John Wesley offers this bit of advice in of all places, the introduction of an early hymnal:

“…the gospel of Christ knows no religion but social, no holiness but social holiness.  ‘Faith working by love’ is the length and breadth and depth and height of Christian perfection.  Christian perfection is perfection in love, love of all, especially love for our neighbors in need whom Christ so deeply loves.”

This we believe as Methodists.  From our very origins in the Holy Club at Oxford, Wesley brought friends together for disciplined living, supportive fellowship, and then the going out to minister to the poor, the lost and the least in Christ’s name.  While Wesley firmly held that we are justified by grace received in faith, he also believed that as justified believers our lives needed to bear fruit, give evidence of our justification or as he put it in a sermon, “Faith is not negated or supplanted by works, rather our works testify to the presence of a living faith working in us.”  As Methodists we believe in social justice, a caring for and working with the poor and those in need.  We believe that as we minister to the poor, so we express our faith in Chris Jesus, and so we give expression to the Holy Spirit at work in us.

Now I would offer a word of caution.  The call to serve the least among us as we would Jesus himself, must not be morphed into a strategy for our own benefit. We must be careful not to conclude—that from now on every time I see a person in need, I’ll see Jesus and reach out.  No!  I think that would be a perversion of Jesus’ teaching.  We must see a brother or sister, a human being in need, not a faceless, nameless object of pity.  We are to serve that sister or brother as we would serve Jesus.  Such service is a reflection of our faithfulness.

This is the surprising reality of God’s judgment of us, you and me.  We are judged not by a check list of great and noble acts but by doing or not doing simple, every day acts of graciousness to those in need.  We are called not to save all of humanity but to serve the one in need right before us.  By such simple acts done or neglected you and I will be judged.  The good news I hear in this is that we can do what is expected.  We can serve our neighbors in need.  The expectation is great not because it is gigantic in its impact, but because it is faithful to our calling.  Thanks be to God!  Amen!

It’s a rather grim view of life, isn’t it?  It is as if each one of us is standing before some bench of judgment, attempting to justify ourselves, seeking to earn our salvation.  It seems you and I are constantly on trial.

Have you ever felt like that?  Have you ever muttered such words?  I would guess most of us have.  I know I have.  It seems to happen in that moment, that point in life, when suddenly our accomplishments, all that we have achieved or accumulated somehow does not justify our existence, simply fails to give it meaning.

“You don’t get something for nothing.  If you want something, you must work for it.”  It was another of mom’s teaching points.  I believed it and for the most part it proved correct.  Hard work equals accomplishment; you’ve got to do something to be somebody. I swallowed it hook, line and sinker.  And most of the time, it paid off.  Then came that moment, that existential moment, when my doing, my achieving, my accomplishing was not enough; when, for whatever reason, it did not justify my life.  Perhaps you too have had such a “Quentin Moment”.

How do we, you and I, get right with God?  This is our focus for this morning.  While I believe that the Scriptures address this question on virtually every page, I would invite us to look in particular at the story Matthew tells us in our text for this morning.

One day as Jesus walks through the marketplace, He sees Matthew, the tax collector, sitting in his booth.  He says to him, “Follow me,” and Matthew immediately gets up, leaves his tax booth, and follows Jesus.  What do you suppose caused Matthew to drop everything and follow Jesus?  I have listened to others offer all sorts of explanations for Matthew’s behavior, from some deep psychological need to his desire for a life change.  Perhaps, he simply saw something in Jesus that was compelling.  Whatever the reason, it was truly a surprising invitation, to say the least.  Why would Jesus invite a tax collector, one who is despised by his fellow Jews, one who is considered morally and ritually unclean, not to mention a traitor, to follow him?  We have become somewhat accustomed to Jesus associating with tax collectors which tends to dull the shock for us.  However, as Tom Long points out, “Tax collectors were carp feeding off the river bottom of Roman rule.”  Tax collectors often practiced extortion, collecting money beyond the Roman tax to line their own pockets.  Despicable would be the kindest word to describe them.  The very act of extending God’s mercy to such a person makes decent religious types wonder about Jesus’ own character, which is precisely what happens next.

The scene shifts to Jesus at dinner, most likely at the home of Matthew.  He is surrounded by Matthew’s colleagues, other tax collectors, and assorted sinners. The Pharisees are offended by Jesus’ associating with such people and ask his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”  Jesus answers his critics with a proverb, a Scripture quote, and a statement about his own ministry.  Taken together, they offer a Word for all who will hear.  First the proverb:  “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.”  In other words, Jesus reaches out to those who are need of his healing love and know it.  We should not overlook the fact that the Greek word for salvation is a medical term, meaning “to heal” or “to make whole”.  Next the quotation, it is taken from Hosea 6:6: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”  Jesus invites those who need God’s mercy rather than those bound to the sacrificial system and its tendencies towards false notions of righteousness.  Finally, He says about the nature of His own ministry: “I have come not to call the righteous but sinners.”  Again we must not miss the radical nature of what Jesus is saying.  He invites those who are sinners and know it, who need God’s forgiving mercy and know it, who cannot make themselves right and know it!  Such is His mission.

I believe this passage moves us along in answering our question.  By calling Matthew, who by the way is called Levi in Mark and Luke, Jesus is offering the grace of forgiveness and justification to one who has no pretense of righteousness, no accomplishments or merit badges to claim righteousness.  He can only receive the gracious love of God that Jesus offers and be thankful.  I wonder if Matthew the gospel writer, changed the name from Levi to Matthew to make the point that an outcast became one of the 12.  And Jesus’ response clearly says his mission is to bring justification and salvation to those who know they have no claim on God.  He is the physician who heals, the Man of mercy who brings God’s mercy, the One who calls sinners to be justified before God.  Here righteousness is more than doing particular religious deeds.  It is also a vision of God’s expectation, the loving of God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength and our neighbor as ourselves.  Such is being right with God.

What does this mean for you and me?  I believe John Wesley can be helpful.  Wesley stands in the historic Protestant tradition that held our getting right with God is entirely a matter of God’s grace, this unconditional, undeserved, unlimited love God offers to us in Christ Jesus.  We can do nothing to deserve or earn our justification.  We can do nothing to save ourselves.  We can only receive the grace offered to us.  This is the constant theme of Wesley’s teaching and preaching. In his famous sermon, “The Scripture Way of Salvation,” Wesley states, “Salvation is not something at a distance; it is a present thing, a blessing which through the free mercy of God, ye are now in possession of…”  For Wesley, it is all about grace, prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying grace.  He often used the image of a house, the house of salvation, as a means of showing how these aspects of grace brought the believer into a right relationship with God.

The porch of the house, said Wesley, is prevenient or preventing grace, the love of God that is “all the drawings of the Father,” those very first inklings of God which begin to move in us—the desire to do some kind act, an initial concern for justice, an early sense that there is something bigger than us in life.  Wesley developed this notion of prevenient grace in his on-going argument with the Calvinists and their doctrine of predestination, the notion that God has destined some to be saved and others to be damned and it matters not what one believes or does.  Not so, said Wesley, “The grace or love of God, from whence cometh our salvation, is free for all.”

I liken prevenient grace to our early awareness of God.  I remember looking at my first born and thinking there must be a God to create such a life, such a wonder.  I remember listening to the witness of church members about how Christ’s love was at work in their life and then looking at my own life from a different vantage point.  I remember healing coming after I was critically injured in an accident and having our pastor tell me I had been blessed.  Evidences of prevenient grace, this grace that goes before any commitment, any confession.  It is the porch of the house of salvation, initial experiences toward getting right with God.

Wesley spoke of the door of the house as justifying grace.  “Justification,” says Wesley, “is another word for pardon.  It is forgiveness of all our sins and (what is necessarily implied therein) our acceptance with God.”  The great expression of God’s grace is Christ Jesus dying on the cross that the powers of sin and death may be overcome and we might be forgiven, and justified with God.  It is a matter of grace.  God in Christ does for us what we cannot do for ourselves.  God forgives us and welcomes us into a right relationship.  God opens the door and invites us in.

Justification is the key for you and me to get right with God.  It seems so simple.  All we need to do is accept the gracious forgiveness offered in Christ Jesus.  But that sometimes proves quite difficult. Over the years I have seen people live under the burden of guilt because they do not believe God would forgive them.  I have seen people carry bitterness and anger because they didn’t think they needed to be forgiven.  Unfortunately, such folks refuse to walk through the door.  Fortunately, I have seen also those who have confessed their sin and realized God’s forgiveness and the new life it offers.  That is a joyous celebration of the Good News.

Finally, Wesley speaks the interior of the house; its many rooms.  This is sanctifying grace, the on-going grace at work in our lives through the Holy Spirit.  Wesley makes a critical distinction between justification and sanctification.  He says, “Justification is God’s decisive work FOR us.  Sanctification is God’s decisive work IN us.”  I have become convinced that this idea of sanctifying grace at work in our lives is the signature belief of Methodism.  We believe God in Christ continues to be at work in us causing us to continue to grow in grace or as Wesley says, to “go on to perfection;” that is to be perfected in love.   Being right with God is not some static position.  It is an on-going journey.  We realize more about God’s love for us in Christ Jesus as we make our journey, more about the depth of that love and the joy and new life it brings.

You may remember the slogan that was popular a few years ago that said, “Be patient with me. God isn’t finished with me yet.” I had it on a banner hanging in my study.  It is a wonderful reminder that we are never finished products.  God in Christ through the Spirit continues to shape us, enabling us to grow in grace—in our understandings, our commitment, and in our witness. Getting right with God is an adventure.  After all, there are many rooms in this house of salvation.

So what’s the bottom line for you and me?  You and I are made right with God in Christ by God’s gracious love offered in Christ Jesus, not by what we do, what we believe, but by what God has done and continues to do.  Mom was right—“you don’t get something for nothing” in much of life.  But not for the most important thing in our lives — “getting right with God.”  There is nothing here we can do — we can only receive — grace upon grace.  Thanks be to God!  Amen!