So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

“Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.
For I have come to set a man against his father,
and a daughter against her mother,
and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 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; and 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 10:31-46 NRSV)

***

I am sure that some of you are saying to yourselves
that there couldn't have been a more poorly titled sermon this one.
This is supposed to be: “The Gentle Judgement?”

“Depart from me, you cursed,” says Jesus: “into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angles."

Now I, too, fail to detect even a hint of gentleness in this statement.
And yet, I am persuaded that Christ's message in this parable
is one which is typified by a Gentle Judgement.
It is a judgement which we all must hear;
it is a judgement which we all,
from time to time,
are forced to face.

As Christians,
we are periodically placed on the spot;
As children of the living God,
we are called to be with and do for others
sometimes in the simplest of ways.

And this is what Jesus is talking about.
Too often,
Biblical scholars will focus on the negative side of this passage.
They will look at the condemnation
given to those who fail the test,
those who fail to act,
And they miss the very heart of our Lord's message.
Too often,
and from too many pulpits,
this passage is taken as a license for preaching works righteousness.

The true importance of good works is inflated
with the punishment for failure being prominently highlighted,
and the true focus of Christ's teaching is lost.

Fundamentally, the intention of this story
is not to give an account of the end of time,
nor is it even to set up the guidelines
by which people may achieve their salvation.
No . . . indeed, In this parable,
All Christ is telling us is that we are to:

1. help others
2. regardless of reward
3. because they need it.

Would you pray with me?

Lord God, our Heavenly Father, Move among us so that we, Thy people, may always feel and sense Thy divine power and presence, for we need to know that we are never alone; and speak to each one of us in such a way that we will hear, understand, and remember, give us words by which to mold and shape our living, for we confess to You that we are people who need such words by which to live. For we pray in Thy Holy and Thy Gracious Name. Amen.

On the last day of February,
I was sitting on the front steps of the church,
during the lunch hour, soaking up the welcomed warmth
of a late winter sun.
Sitting there, I caught sight of a black man
walking down the sidewalk in front of the church.
I looked the other way, hoping that he would not approach me.
I didn't want to have my quiet-time spoiled.
I didn't want to respond to him, or to anyone else, at that moment.
But, of course, the man did stop, as I knew he would,
and he introduced himself to me as a preacher of the gospel.
He was an old man,
toothless,
and with the cloudy eyes of age.
Spit flew when he talked,
and the spray was blowing in the breeze.
He wore an old fisherman's cap
and a green jacket with a torn sleeve,
and he carried a grey Adidas sports bag.
I could understand about half of what he said,
but something about him engaged me,
and I strained to hear everything I could.
The man said: “Up the street another preacher told me
he couldn't give me any money.
That's not true.
He could.
He just doesn't want to.”
I nodded my head in agreement,
all the while noticing the tightening inside my gut.

“I'm not talking about religion,” the man said.
“Religion is just an obligation to do your duty.
People come to your church,
and so they think that they're religions.'
Inside my stomach,
more tightening.
I was being washed with the spray of his words.
The man paused for a moment, then added:
“You can't get to God without having to deal with me first."
--I figured he was quoting.
After all, the Gospel lesson for the prior Sunday
had been from the fourteenth chapter of John:
"I am the way,
the truth,
and the life.”
And yet,
I suddenly doubted he was quoting.
And, with that, I felt fear
and a twinge of sadness.
“Ya know,” the man said, “You have to be born again and again and again
until you finally come to look just like Him.”
The "Him" was, of course, Jesus.

In my mind's eye, I saw fire, and the cross.
It was a “Gentle Judgement” from God for me,
as I just sat there,
and watched the preacher walk away.
“What a relief!”
I thought to myself as I told him that I had enjoyed talking with him.
It was, of course, a lie.
I just wanted him to go away.
With my response,
the preacher turned around and came back.
He asked me if I ever needed anybody to do yardwork.
“No,” I said.
He asked if I had an old Bible he could take with him.
“I collect Bibles.” he said.
It was then that I noticed the outline of books through the side of his Adidas bag. I quickly reviewed the shelf in my office, upstairs,
and could picture only the heavily underlined
friends there.
I certainly could not spare one of them.
“No," I said.
He smiled and said good-bye and walked away.
And, inside,
I felt the silent,
Gentle Judgement again.
And, with it, the rush of second thought.
Of course I had an extra Bible!
I'm always getting them from various religious societies
and evangelistic associations.
I ran up the steps, through the sanctuary,
and up stairs to my office on the third floor.
There, I found a little red Bible, still in its box.
I took it out, then pulled a few dollars from my wallet,
tucked them into the Bible,
and started up the street in the direction the man had gone.
A strange sense of urgency was upon me.
The preacher was nowhere in sight.
Then, I saw him across the street,
at a neighborhood beer joint.
He was talking to a group of rather tough-looking
young men at the entry way, and then went in.

I entertained only a momentary thought of crossing
the street and giving the preacher the Bible.
After all, my reputation [sarcastically] as a minister was at stake!
Go into a bar, where everybody could see me? Never!
Later that afternoon as I was driving home
I kept an eye out for the preacher,
but there was no sight of him.
The little red Bible was on the back seat of my car
where it has been ever since.
And I.....
I knew about the “Gentle Judgement.”
I had felt it inside,
I had heard God's calling,
And I had failed to act.
I had failed to give a cup of water.

Jesus says
in this morning's scripture lesson,
three very basic things to us
concerning our calling to help our fellow human beings.
Firstly:
He stresses the simplicity of our action.
It can be help in the very simplest of things.
The things which Jesus picks out:
giving someone who is hungry a meal,
someone who is thirsty a drink
welcoming a stranger
cheering the sick
visiting a prisoner.

These are things that anyone can do.
It is not a question of giving away
thousands of dollars
or of writing our names in the history books.
It is a case of giving simple help to the
people we meet every day.

Secondly:
Christ stresses the motivation of our action
as being of paramount importance.
Jesus tells us that our help must be uncalculating,
flowing naturally from his Real Presence within us.

Those in the story who helped did not think they were helping Jesus
They helped not to gain reward,
They helped because it flowed from them by virtue of God’s grace,
It was the uncalculating reaction of a loving heart,
rooted in the transformational power of the Holy Spirit.
They were not acting to gain brownie points with God.
Indeed, such good works are not done,
nor even contemplated,
with the intent of gaining favor from God or from anybody else.
Instead, true, divinely inspired Good Works occur because they are
Right Thing To Do.
They happen because they are spontaneously empowered
by the spirit of the living God.

Those in the parable who failed to extend their hand in aid,
those who failed to help their brothers and sisters in need,
failed because their motive was corrupt.
Contrary to the legalistic interpretation of this passage,
They didn't fail because they didn't act,
They failed because they were a selfish,
self-righteous people.
Their attitude is what is judged harshly,
not their lack of action.
It is as if they were saying:

“If we had only known it was you Lord, we would have helped.
But, we thought it was only some common person who was not worth helping.”

The truth, as Christ's words clearly indicate,
is that a kind act,
aid to the least of God's children,
is an act unto Christ, Himself.

And, this is the third point which Christ's message this morning stresses.
Jesus said: “Truly, I say to you,
as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.”
Jesus confronts us with the wonderful truth that all such help,
is given to himself.
Now, how can that be?
There are, really, two ways to think about this.

Firstly, we can draw an analogy to our parent-child relationship with God.
With humans,
if we really wish to delight a parent's heart,
if we really wish to move him or her to gratitude,
the best way to do it is to help that parent's child.
Now, God is our Parent,
our Father.
The best way to delight the heart of God is to help our fellow human beings.

Secondly, we can think about the nature of Christ within all Christians.
Scripture tells us that the Holy Spirit of God,
dwells within in each and every one of us who have
“put on Christ."
Christ dwells within all Christians.
An act of good will,
any small work of service,
done to another of Christ's 'little ones" is as if it were done to Christ,
Himself.

Both ways of looking at it
allow us to see this truth in all human beings,
every where,
regardless of nationality, color, or creed.
We are all called to view others
as Christ viewed them:
We are, all of us, children of the living God.
And, as such, we are all in need of a helping hand.

I want to look at three people who have found this parable blessedly true.
Two of them were vary famous,
the third is still young.

One of them was Saint Francis of Asissi.
St. Francis was born into a wealthy family.
He was well-educated, high-born, and high-spirited.
But he was not happy.
He felt that his life was incomplete.
That he was not being all that God had called him to be.
Then, one day while he was out riding, he met a man
who was struck with the vile disease of leprosy.
Something within his soul moved Francis to dismount
his horse and fling his arms around this poor, stricken person.
And, according to legend, the face of the leper
changed into the face of Christ.
And, from Francis sprouted the Monastic Order of the Franciscans.

The Franciscans are noted, world over, for their good works.
Their tireless dedication to their fellow human beings
has won them much fame and admiration.
But it is a fame that they have never sought.
Their's is a dedication driven by the story of St. Francis,
and by the truth of this morning's Gospel lesson.

The prayer of St. Francis,
which you will find at Number 481 in the back of our hymnal,
is an example of this dedication.
In it, St. Francis prays:

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

These are words of dedication,
these are the words from a life committed to service,
But note.....
The plea is to make “me” an instrument.
It is a plea for God to grant all these things,
in language which makes it clear that the task is not an easy one,
even though the chores,
the acts themselves,
seem so very simple.

Another of these men was Martin of Tours.
He was a Roman soldier and a Christian.
One cold winter day, as he was entering a city,
a beggar stopped him and asked him for alms.
Martin had no money; but the beggar was blue and shivering with cold.
So, Martin gave what he had.
He took off-his soldier's coat, worn and frayed as it was,
and cut it into two and gave half of it to the beggar.
That night he had a dream.
In it, he saw Jesus, in heaven with all the angles,
and Jesus was wearing half of a Roman soldier's cloak.
One of the angles said to him:
“Master, why are you wearing that battered old cloak? Who gave it to you?”
And Jesus answered, softly: “My servant Martin gave it to me.”
Martin didn't bequeath to the church a monastic order,
or a glorious prayer,
but his example should be noted.
For His story illustrates, most simply,
exactly what this morning's Gospel lesson was saying.
Unbeknownst to Martin,
that which he was doing for the beggar--
giving him half his cloak--
he was also doing for Jesus Christ.

Both Saint Francis and Saint Martin
experienced the truth of our parable directly.
Both listened to the inner-promptings of the Holy Spirit and acted accordingly.
Both left an indelible mark upon the history of the church,
each giving to it a renewed vision
of just what we are all called to do and be in this broken world.

The third person I want to look at
didn't quite meet up to the calling of the Gospel lesson.
One day, even though he heard the inner-promptings of the Holy Spirit,
he failed to act quickly enough.
He was given a second chance, and fear struck him down.
All that was asked of him was a simple, red Bible.
He had one to spare,
and yet . . . he hesitated.
Why?
Why are we so stricken, at times,
that we are incapable of acting as our spirits tell us?

My third example has striven to overcome this fear--
He has seen, known, and tried to do the right thing,
numerous times since then,
But he still has that same red Bible,
sitting on the back seat of his Car.
One day, he knows, he will see another old preacher,
another person who asks for, or needs, a Bible,
and then, he will be able to do the right thing.
He will listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit,
He will respond to the Gentle Judgement of God;
He will remember the words of St. Francis, which still echo in his mind:

Let me sow love,
pardon, faith, hope, light, joy.
Let me seek to console, understand, and give.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Now days, when I am confronted, as I am, periodically, by people in need,
I turn to this prayer and then do as the spirit leads me.

I wish I had known it a year ago;
I like to think that if I had,
I wouldn't have a little red Bible,
sitting on my back seat of my car.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
--Amen