Judgment Day is Here! -- A Lectionary Reflection
Ezekiel
34:11-16, 20-24
Ephesians
1:15-23
Matthew
25:31-46
Christ
the King Sunday has arrived and with it the year long journey through the
church’s story comes to an end. Yes,
with the first Sunday of Advent, we’ll pick up the story again, and then a year
from now we’ll be back here at the Day of Judgment, only to begin again the
journey. On and on we go in anticipation of that day when this cycle will come
to an end and our hope for a future marked by justice for all will be
fulfilled. The image of Christ reigning
over all is one that has given hope to countless generations, promising a
future where every tear will be wiped away and every heart comforted and
strengthened. On that day, when the
spear will be turned into plow and lion will lay down with lamb, the struggles
of this life will give way to perfect peace.
That day has yet to come, but the promise remains, even if the fervor
has long since dissipated.
The
image that emerges from these texts that marks this final week of the
liturgical calendar lift up the idea of judgment, something that many
Christians don’t find all the attractive.
Especially those of us left of center prefer a loving and merciful God –
though even liberals seem attracted to the idea that there are those who will
be judged, and perhaps judged harshly.
They may not embrace the idea of people roasting for eternity in the
fires of hell, but from what I can see from the rhetoric surrounding the Occupy
Wall Street movement, there seem to be few tears for the world’s bankers. Perhaps the denizens of Wall Street deserve
judgment. Possibly they are the goats who
are to be sent off to the place where there is “weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
There is another issue
to address on a day like this. We live
in an age where hierarchy is suspect.
Even many monarchies exist more as symbol of the past than a political
player. Feminist theology also raises
questions about the symbolism of Christ the King, which is rather masculine in
orientation. Like many I struggle with
these images, but even as I struggle with them I also find this image rather
compelling. I’m not really sure I’m
comfortable with the idea that Jesus is my BFF.
And so with this mixture of emotions we turn to texts that offer hope
but also speak of judgment.
This text from Ezekiel
34 begins with a beautiful picture of the shepherd seeking out the lost sheep
and gathering them together, rescuing them from far off places, and restoring
them to their rightful place. The
context, of course, is that of the exile.
Israel has been scattered and hope seems far from secure. To this people that wonder what the future
holds comes this word or restoration.
The Shepherd promises to feed and care for them, binding up the injured
and strengthening the weak. But in this
word of hope is a word of judgment. God
will bind up the injured and care for the weak, but as for the fat, they will
be destroyed in God’s justice.
In context the image is
that of the strong getting strong by pushing aside the weaker. This image hits home after watching a much
larger cow/bull push its way into a group of feeding cattle. It’s so easy for the strong to push aside the
weaker members of society and get what they want at the detriment of the
other. We sort of assume this is par for
the course, but is it the way God envisions a properly ordered society? In answer to that question, we hear in verses
20-24 that the Lord will judge between fat and lean, because the strong had
pushed aside the weaker animals with should and flank and horns, scattering
them across the land. The judgment here
likely falls on Babylon, the empire that had scattered Israel (Judah). In the course
of this process, the flock will be restored and no longer fear being ravaged by
its enemies. This promise is accompanied
by another, for the prophet says on behalf of Yahweh, “I, the Lord, will be
their God, and my servant David will be prince among them; . . . .” There will be one who will lead, the one who
comes as the new David. Then there will
be judgment, justice, and security.
The author of Ephesians takes us in an
apparently different direction, but there is here the image of God’s final
triumph, which is shared with Christ, who is seated at the right hand of God,
“far above all rule and authority and dominion . . .” It is a vision that is designed to offer hope
that God’s purposes will be fulfilled.
It is a vision of a God who shares with us the riches of Gods
inheritance that by rights belongs to Christ.
The promise is that this one, whom God, in God’s power, raises to this
heavenly seat of glory, will provide us with a “spirit of wisdom and
revelation,” so that we might see realized in our own lives the hope to which
we’ve been called. Yes, we must take
this promise by faith, but knowing that the one who seeks to push aside the
least of these is not the one who has the final word offers us hope. So, even if we don’t yet see this fully
expressed in our own circumstances, the promise keeps moving us forward. Indeed, it serves as an invitation to take
hold of the inheritance and with it go into the world and make a
difference. We depend on the Spirit to
guide and empower us, but unless we’re willing to take hold of the promise and
engage the world, the promise will not be fulfilled.
From this vision of
Christ sitting at the right hand of God, with the powers and principalities
under foot, we turn to Jesus’ vision of judgment. Many of us know this text well. We quote it and it informs the politics of at
least some Christians. The phrase “the
least of these,” which emerges from this passage is one of those easily
recognized phrases that has a resonance far beyond the religious realm. It is a passage that cuts a couple of ways. First it holds out the promise of judgment
and it lays out the basis of judgment.
For those uncomfortable with the idea that God will judge us on the
basis of our behavior in the world – this will be unsettling. For those who believe that the way to evade
divine justice is to say yes to Jesus this can also be unsettling. But,
perhaps equally unsettling is that it’s the nations not individuals who stand
ready to be judged.
So, we turn to this
scene in which the imagery is rather stark.
The Son of Man will come in glory, we’re told, accompanied by his angels
to take up his place on the throne of Glory.
Gathered around him are the nations of the world. The Son of Man, this eschatological figure
whose identity is rooted in the apocalyptic imagery of Daniel, begins to sort
out the nations as one might separate sheep from goats (note both the
similarity and the difference between this scene and that in Ezekiel). The one who sits in the seat of judgment
says to those on the right – the sheep – “come you that are blessed by my
father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the
world.” Did you catch the word inherit that
resonates with the Ephesians text? And did you hear the word about the kingdom
being prepared for the sheep from the beginning? God may adapt to our choices and situations,
but God isn’t making it up as things go along.
There is a vision and a purpose that guides the process. There is a right and a wrong way of doing
things. And the reason why the sheep are
invited into the kingdom is that “when the Son of Man was hungry, they fed
him. When he was thirsty, they gave him
drink. When he was a stranger they
visited him. As to when they had done
this, the one offering judgment says – “when you did it to the least of these
who are members of my family.” I know
that there are those who would limit this “family” to the church, to the
community of faith, but isn’t the family of God bigger than this? Is God only concerned about those who have
joined up? Or is God concerned about
everyone, no matter their connection to the church? To think that it’s a matter of taking care of
our own would seem to let us off the hook.
As for those on the left
hand, the goats, they’re accursed. Why,
well, when they saw the “least among these” they walked on by. They didn’t feed the hungry; give drink to
the thirsty, visit the stranger or the one in prison. Their alleged religious devotion seems not to
have been sufficient. They seem rather
surprised to hear this word of critique. Isn’t
piety enough?
So, what do we do with
these images of judgment? How do we
understand the inheritance of God? As
this liturgical cycle comes to an end and we contemplate restarting the journey
with Advent on the horizon, are we ready to join with God in the work of living
out the reign of God? Or are we content
with the way things are and have always been?
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