Matthew
10:40-42
Two weeks ago I noticed that one of
my favorite pair of pants had shrunk in the past few months. Last fall they fit well, but somehow in the
intervening time, the waistline must have gone down an inch or two, because I
had to breathe in sharply to make the button do what it is supposed to do. Later that week, my father (whose
observations I otherwise welcome) commented on a bucket of caramel corn that I
had picked up down the shore. I won’t
tell you what he said, but those two events, taken together, sent me to the
salad bar and the gym.
I
am fascinated by the weight machines and the flashing lights on the treadmills
and all of that. They are mechanical and
electronic wonders. The best fixture of
the whole place, however, is over in a corner and facing away from everything
else. It’s the water fountain. Forty-five minutes or an hour into what might
be called “caramel corn reparation therapy”, a second or two spent in its
company is incredibly welcome. Water is
so simple, yet so good. We need it to
live, but there are also moments when we realize it more clearly than others.
The
strange thing is that there are some folks that don’t get that. It’s too simple, maybe. Across the gym there’s a refrigerator case
full of other drinks for sale. They’re
loaded up with electrolytes that can be sweated out during exercise and some of
them are protein drinks. There are a few
that are bright green and probably glow in the dark. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were some
form of liquid kale lurking there. Maybe
these do some good; I’m not running them down.
But what I really need is water.
One
of my professors, David Steinmetz, told a story about how important it is to
recognize what our souls need and not to get sidetracked. He talked about being on a long stretch of
interstate on a cold, cold day – probably the stretch of I-81 that runs through
eastern North Carolina, which is long and straight and boring and lined for
miles with pine trees without a town or even a farm in sight. He talked about what it would be like to run
out of gas there and to roll over onto the shoulder and wait for someone going
by to stop. (Remember, this is before
cell phones.) Eventually, someone pulls
over and gets out and says, “I went past earlier and saw you were pulled
over. I felt bad for you in this
weather, so here’s a thermos of hot chocolate.
God bless you, brother.” Then
they drive off. Gee, thanks.
It’s
a kind thought. It makes you feel better. But it’s not what you need, and in the end
you are no better off. As for the giver,
they go away thinking that they have done something good and feeling better
about themselves, but they haven’t really improved the situation. I remember helping to sort through the
shelves at a food pantry one time and coming across a whole case filled with
jars of capers. I still have no idea who
uses them, and certainly couldn’t picture someone in serious need looking into
their bag and seeing: “soup – good!; Spam – okay; bread – yes; and –hey!—a jar of capers!”
A
true gift, one that really becomes a blessing to someone, is a gift that is
suited to their needs and to who that person really is. When that kind of gift is given, it tells
someone not only that somebody cares, but that somebody understands what the
recipient faces and it tells them that the giver is, in a way, going through it
with them.
“Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a
prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous
person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the
righteous.” [Matthew 10:41]
That’s why it is the gift that pays attention
to someone as a person, that shows attention to who they really are and what
they really need, that conveys true compassion and blesses both the recipient
and the giver.
“Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one
of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these
will lose their reward.” [Matthew
10:42]
There’s nothing dismissive in that kind of
giving, no sense of “Here you go, now don’t bother me.” (I call that “telethon charity”.) Instead, the kind of giving that comes from
the heart takes the time to consider what is going on, and may accept feedback
if it’s the wrong thing, like hot chocolate when what’s needed is a gallon of
gas.
Isn’t
that cup of water that comes with welcome, in fact, so much loser to what Jesus
has done for us? When I think about how
God could have handled the whole issue of sin and forgiveness, I think of how
he could just have written us all off.
Or, if he had wanted to, he could have just said, “I forgive you all for
everything. Don’t do it again.” Or he could have said, “Three strikes and you’re
out.” God is God, and can do as he
pleases. Instead of giving us the
brush-off for our flaws and our sins, though, when we are less than he intended,
it matters to him. Our sin touches his
heart and so out of his love for us he takes us seriously and chose to work
with us.
He took on our humanity in the life of Jesus
and showed us what it is to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our
God. He did that, even knowing the pain
and sorrow that he would have to face along the way, all to save us from the
permanent pains and sorrows that come from turning away from him. Then he turned it around and said it we ever
need him, we can find him. He’ll be
right here.
Only
– surprise! – he may be right here in the person who has the greatest need
herself. God asks us to do what he has
done for us, and when we do that, he is there even if we don’t realize it until
he shows us everything at the end of time.
“‘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 gave me clothing, I was sick and you took
care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ … ‘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.’” [Matthew 25:35-36, 40b]
This Jesus guy never lets us off the hook, does
he? Then again, he knows what it really
means to be in that position.
There’s
a hymn that was written for the 1905 Methodist
Hymnal by a preacher in New York City whose name was Frank Mason North. He was one of the people who helped start two
groups that are still going strong, the Methodist Federation for Social Action
and the National Council of Churches. I
looked up his biography hoping to find some sort of inspirational episode from
his life to share with you, but I found that his life, at least in the
retelling, wasn’t all that dramatic. His
letters that survive are mostly to his family and deal with the usual stuff
about catching colds and household matters and travel arrangements. That makes it all the more pointed, maybe,
that without some kind of parting of the clouds he could still look out his
front door and see Jesus there. The hymn
I mentioned, “Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life”, recognizes the human
trouble that touches the heart of God, God’s sending of Jesus into human need,
and the part his every day disciples now play in going where he has gone.
“…In haunts of wretchedness and need,
On shadowed thresholds fraught with fears,
From paths where hide the lures of greed,
We catch the vision of thy tears.
… The cup of water given for thee
Still holds the freshness of thy grace;
Yet long these multitudes to see
The sweet compassion of thy face.
…Till all the world shall learn thy love,
And follow where thy feet have trod;
Till glorious from thy heaven above
Shall come the city of our God.”
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