Illustrations, Quotes and Lectionary Reflections
by Various Authors
Sermon Starter: The Sheep and the Goats
Matthew 25:31-46 Like it or not, judgment is a fact of life. That is true whether we are talking about the histories of nations or the events of our own personal life. If we break the law, then society will judge us. If we live immorally--drink too much, engage in sexual promiscuity, live a lifestyle of constant stress-- then our bodies will judge us. We simply cannot escape judgment in life. Jesus rarely spoke about the final judgment, but on one occasion he did paint a picture for us in one of his stories. The parable that I just read gives a strong jolt to those who are heavy on doctrine but short on ethics. A shepherd divides the sheep from the goats, said Jesus, so too shall there be a great division on the final day. Those on the right hand will be allowed entrance into the kingdom, while those on the left will be denied it. And the great surprise is that those who thought they were religious turn out to be not as good as they thought, and those who thought they failed were told they did a better job then they supposed. I would like to suggest three points that this parable is attempting to make this morning…
- We Are to View Each Individual as if They Are Christ.
- The End Criteria Will Be Simple Acts of Kindness.
- We Are Judged by the Good We Do Not Do.
Shortly after her Coronation, Queen Victoria attended a splendid performance of Handel’s Messiah. She’d been told in no uncertain terms that members of royalty do not stand with everybody else when the Hallelujah Chorus is sung. It was simply not proper. But when the singers lifted their voices to shout “Hallelujah, the Lord omnipotent reigneth”, she could only just stay in her seat. She didn’t want to violate the traditions of royalty. And when the chorus came to the climax, proclaiming Jesus Christ, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, repeating the phrase with increasing crescendos, the queen of all England and the British Empire rose and bowed her head before Jesus Christ, the King of all – including all earthly kings and queens. There will come that day when every knee in heaven and earth will bow before him, “And he shall reign for ever and ever! King of Kings and Lord of Lords!”
One thing has always puzzled me about this gospel: why do goats get such a bad press from Jesus. I've lived in rural Africa for most of my life and know both sheep and goats well. A couple of comments in sermons suggest that sheep and goats are dfficult to tell apart. I can only suppose that such comments are made by urban poeple who have never seen either in real life. In fact, goats are superior to sheep: more intelligent, less suicidal, better milk, more self-sufficient, less diet-conscious. Sheep are silly creatures: run on the road in front of traffic, straying blindly and unable to find their own way home, starving while standing in long grass. So, in Jesus' parable, why are the goats consigned to perdition and the sheep to paradise?
Notice how the sentence is run on. It depicts a hunger-quenching, drink-giving, stranger-welcoming (Deuteronomic hospitality), naked-clothing, sick-nursing, prisoner-visiting person who is completely unconscious and un-self-righteous about their actions. By contrast the opposite is equally powerful in its ugliness. One side protests that they are unaware of doing anything right while the other protests that they did nothing wrong. The judgment of both grace and punishment, strong as they are, are virtually overwhelmed by the unassuming naturalness and the defensiveness. A visitor to a cholera ward taking in the stench turns to the nurse and says, “I wouldn’t do this for a million dollars.” The nurse replies, “Neither would I.”
In his commentary on Matthew (Matthew for Everyone), Tom Wright recognizes that this passage (25:31-46) is often interpreted as the Last Judgment, that Day that will come in some future. Then he goes on to observe: "But when is Jesus seated on his throne, with all his angels in attendance? We have already glimpsed this scene in 16.27. And I have suggested that the vindication of the son of man spoken of in 24.30 refers, not to his future coming, buy (as Jesus there insists) to the events which were to take place within a generation. According to the rest of the New Testament, not least St Paul, Jesus is ALREADY ruling the world as its rightful lord (e.g. 1 Cor. 15.25-28). Should we not say, then, that this scene of judgment, though in this picture it is spoken of as a one-off, future and final event, may actually refer to what is happening throughout human history, from the time of Jesus' resurrection and ascension to the present? Could it be that the final judgment, in some sense, comes forward to meet us?" I think this marvelous writer is on to something. As he says further on, that this passage means that Jesus has 'launched' us on our dangerous and vulnerable mission to serve as his sisters and brothers. Seems to me that we undertake this mission knowing that Jesus is not only ruling over the world, but we will also find Jesus in the people we are sent to serve, the least in the world, those who are suffering the most, especially because of the superior attitude and actions the rest of the world models and lives out. It also seems to me, that we can no longer act as if we are ignorant ('when did we . . .?'). As sisters and brothers of the One who sees the suffering of the least of the world, we to are given the eyes to see it. We know, perhaps more clearly than ever before, who the lost, the least, the last, the little are - in the world, in our nations, in our communities, in our neighborhoods, in our churches, in our families. If, as Wright believes, the final judgment has come forward to meet us, than we face that judgment in ever encounter, in every person, in every moment, in every relationship.
I have been wrestling with Walter Wink -- who also had written a commentary on this passage. Some of what Wink says here is: "The ‘sheep’ are surprised they are the elect; they were compassionate, not in order to earn a reward, but simply because they were in solidarity with the sufferers. They just cared. Note that the judgment is not between believers and unbelievers, or Christians and non-Christians, or church members and non-church members. The judgment is not even based on confessing Jesus as Lord and Savior or being reborn.” “It is wholly contingent on whether one has responded humanely and compassionately to the needs of those who are marginalized, nameless, in prison, homeless, and disreputable. So great is the solidarity of humanity that when we do such acts of compassion to the very least, we do it for all humanity.” Wink goes on to say, “ …that compassion begins to alter the parable itself, for when those who showed compassion see the tortures of the damned (which Matthew has liberally added in verses 41-46), they will not renounce heaven in order to minister to those writhing in eternal fire? For if the Human Being (“the son of man”) is in the ‘least of these’ (again, not church members, as Matthew has it, but really down- and-out people), then is he not also in the ‘goats’? How can bad people be sent to hell if the Human Being is in them? If any are lost, are not all lost in them, and the Human Being as well? And how can all this be squared with Jesus’ own words: “For the son of the man came to seek out and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10) Besides, the compassionate people in the parable did not know that they were serving Sophia’s Child, the Human Being, in their needy neighbors. But we, having read the parable, do know that the Human Being is in these poor, and so we have contrived to stand the parable on its head and make it the manifesto for social action as a form of works righteousness.” So, the parable, taken that way leads to burn out, of clergy and lay people. Wink offers up yet another surprise in the parable, an important detail: “In verse 32: “All the nations (ta ethne, neuter) will be gathered before him, and he will separate people (autous, masculine) one from another . . .” A pronoun must agree with its antecedent in gender and number. This one does not. This means that it is not the nations as such that are judged, but the individual members (autous) of the nations, and they will be judged but by how their nations have treated the needy; what in effect, were their systems of welfare, judiciary, prisons, and healthcare? The ultimate principle of humanness (“ the son of man”) is here depicted as judging all people on the basis of how their nations have treated the marginalized of society. Each of us must take individual responsibility insofar as we are able, for the behavior of the corporate systems to which we belong.”
Doug Hare, in the Interpretation series has put an very provocative spin on this. According to Hare, Matthew, at this point is not directly addressing the judgment of Christians, but instead, the question of the judgment of non-Christians. Hare's premise is that Matthew was addressing a Jewish audience that was on the way of Christ. In addressing the "Ethne" or, nations, in this portion of chapter 25, Matthew is specifically addressing non-Jews, and therefore, in the context of Matthew, non-Christians. Therefore, this is the judgment of those who are not explicit followers of Jesus. They will be judged according to how the implicitly responded to his love by their behavior. I think that this is an important message to be heard on "Christ the King Sunday." For by and large, I don't think that most Christians really believe in the universal Kingship of the resurrected Christ. Over the years, I have known many Buddhists, Muslims, New Agers, Hindus, Jews, Agnostics etc... who by the lives they are living, are implicitly responding to (being driven by?) the love of Jesus Christ. People who at the "final judgment" will, in my mind (and I think in the mind of Matthew), be welcomed into the fullness of the Kingdom of God. And yet I continue to be amazed at those who seem to be insisting that for Jesus to be at work ins someones life that they must first explicitly "profess" some belief about Jesus. If Jesus is King, Lord of the universe, can't he work in whoever he pleases, however he pleases? Perhaps for us "explicit" Christians, this is a call to keep our eyes and minds open to the implicit followers of Christ, wherever we find them, and celebrate and join them in the love they are sharing without feeling the need to convert them.
"The Last Battle", where the fine young Calormene who has been a devotee of Tash all his life finds himself in the presence of Aslan. He instinctively recognises Aslan as the divine figure to whom all his spiritual longing points, but is shamed by his professed adherence to Tash (now revealed as a demonic monster). Aslan says something like "I receive all the love and service offered to Tash as to me, because without knowing it you were in fact serving me... you can't do bad deeds in my name or good deeds in the name of Tash."
,. . . The stern judgement is there. Jesus says, "Be prepared, or else!" The sheep and the goats parable underlines that in stark reality. Jesus is no universalist. Maybe. But more and more, I have my suspicions that God may be universalist. After all, God is the One who will not 'hand us over . . . whose heart recoils within . . . whose will not execute fierce anger . . . who will not come in wrath" according to Hosea 11. God is the One who sits by the front window, night after night, eyes reddened and strained from the ache of watching; and who, when the child is seen, rushes to embrace the prodigal, while the elder son (the 'believer'???) fumes about such crazy grace. And God is the One who gives us the new Jerusalem, whose gates are never closed, signifying, I believe, that God continues to wait for everyone to trudge home, even those foolish brides, even those who won't use their God-given gifts for fear God will get mad at them, even those goofy goats who were more worried about themselves than for others. For me, it is not what Jesus says here that is important for me and for the rest of humanity; it is what Jesus does a few chapters later on at Calvary, and then what God does for me and for the rest of humanity on Easter morning. Death is judged and condemned; we are given new life.
I have had problems with Christ the KING title for this Sunday. Yet in the past I have used the idea that the word king is turned up-side-down. No longer does it mean king in the worldly sense any more than REALITY does to non-Christians. The words death-life, importance, hope, power, love, things, etc... have been radically changed because we do believe in Christ the King. Jesus spoke in the "same" language of the day but it often meant something completely different because of the context in which he used the words. He also backed up these words with actions that were counter to his culture. To be blunt - perhaps our problem is that we do not back up these words with actions different enough for our culture to see that they can mean something radically different. "When did you see me hungry..." I know I wimp out many times when it would be a powerful, although UNCOMFORTABLE, (even to the point of job security), witness to how my faith sees the world in a different reality.
All Talk, No Action
I was hungry and you formed a humanities club and discussed my hunger. I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel and prayed for my release. I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance. I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health. I was homeless and you preached to me of the spiritual shelter of the love of God. I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me. You seem so holy, so close to God. But I'm still very hungry and lonely and cold. For I was hungry and you were overweight. Thirsty and you were watering your lawn. Stranger and you called the Police and were glad to see me taken away. Naked and you were saying, 'I don't have a thing to wear!' Ill and you asked, 'Is it contagious?' In prison and you said, 'That's where your kind belong!' He said not, 'I was sick and you healed me or in prison and you set me free, but ye visited me and came unto me,' a real personal service of Christ is implied, one involving some sacrifice of ease, time and property. - St John Chrysostom
Judgment: The Sound of Money for the Smell of Food
A hungry man was walking down the street in a village of medieval Turkey. He had only a piece of bread in his hand. He came to a restaurant where some meatballs were being grilled. The cooking meat was so near and the smell so delicious the man held his piece of bread over the meat to capture some of the smell. As he started to eat the bread, the angry restaurant owner seized him and took him away to see a judge. The owner protested, "This man was stealing the smell of my meat without asking permission. I want you to make him pay me for it." The judge thought for a moment, then held up his purse in front of the owner and shook it. "What are you doing that for?" asked the restaurant owner? The judge replied, "I am paying you. The sound of money is fair payment for the smell of food." The challenge when we are dealing with the least and the last is to make sure that what we are sharing with them is real. We must make sure that our care is expressed in ways that are tangible and begins to change lives. (by Wiley Stephens from Heaven's Audit of One's Soul)
The Gap between Words and Action
One of my favorite cartoons of all time is one from the Peanuts comic strip. In this particular one, Snoopy is sitting in the doorway of his dog house shivering violently during a winter storm. You can see that it is near Christmas time by the decorations on the dog house. Charlie Brown and Lucy are walking by - all bundled up and warm as toast. They offer a greeting, "Be of good cheer, Snoopy," Charlie Brown says. "Yes, be of good cheer," Lucy replies. And they keep on walking as Snoopy sits there with chattering teeth. The message of the cartoon was powerful. The most noxious lifestyle of all is when compassionate words come from a care-less heart. Snoopy would no doubt prefer a blanket over a greeting. A compassionate heart is a reflection of the heart of God. (by John Jewell from Be Compassionate)
Mommy, I'm Hungry
It's been years, but I remember Fred Craddock telling of the time he attended a conference on hunger. Influential, knowledgeable speakers had been brought in from all over to talk on the subject. Near the end of the conference, Fred says, a young, willowy woman got up to speak. Her long straight hair fell down her back, almost to her waist. She carried a legal pad to the podium and began reading. At first, Craddock says, he couldn't follow what she was saying. Eventually, it dawned on him, as it did all the other listeners. She was reading the same sentence over and over, each time in a different language. Finally, at the very end, she spoke the sentence in English. All the time she was saying, "Mommy, I'm hungry. Mommy, I'm hungry." She was the most powerful speaker of the entire conference, Craddock says. At least, she had the most impact upon him. As he and his group drove back to Atlanta, alongside the highway he read a billboard he had seen numerous times. Before, he had hardly even noticed it. This time he did. It said, "All You Can Eat Buffet, $4.99." This time, Craddock says, that message seemed to him to be obscene. Guilt can be a powerful motivator. (by Randy L. Hyde from The Scavenger Hunt)
The Long Reach of an Act of Kindness
Alex Haley, the author of Roots tells the story of how his father had his life changed by a simple act of kindness: He was the youngest of eight children, living as a sharecropping family. Everyone in the family was needed to help with the crops. After several years of schooling the family pressed each child into service on the farm. Fortunately the boy's mother intervened on behalf of her child and was allowed to stay in school. When he was ready for college he chose the Lane Institute, working as many as four jobs in addition to full-time studies. It was all physically and emotionally wearing. He worked for a summer as a porter on a train and happened to meet a man early in the morning who couldn't sleep and wanted to talk. This man was impressed by a black porter working to earn money for college and tipped him the unimaginable sum of five dollars. By the end of the summer Mr. Haley had to decide whether to convert his summer earnings into a mule and begin to sharecrop, or to stretch to complete his last year at school. He took the risk of competing college. Alex Haley tells us what happened next: "When Dad arrived on campus, the president called him into his office and showed him a letter he had just received. The letter was from the elderly man whom my father had met on the train, and it contained a check for $518 to cover Dad's tuition and living expenses for one full year." The kindness of an unknown friend made all the difference in the life of Alex Haley's father, Alex Haley himself, and every succeeding generation of that family. As a person who has been in just a minor degree of need, I know what the acts of love and care performed by virtual strangers can mean. (by Richard J. Fairchild from When, Lord, Did We See You?)
The Weakest Link
From time to time, I have both revealed my true age and tested the outer limits of your memory by talking about the games I once played as a child. But, to my knowledge, I never once mentioned that grand old standby of playgrounds everywhere, "Red Rover". Start with two teams. Could be five to a team. Could be ten to a team. Red Rover is one game where almost any number can play. Call one team "Team A." The other, "Team B." String each team into a line. Have each line face each other, several yards apart. Encourage each team's members to join hands or link arms... whatever it takes to unify the line and make it solid. Then have Team A single out one member of Team B to test the strength of that linkage. Together, Team A calls across the playground divide: "Red Rover, Red Rover, let Billy cross over." At which point, Billy (from his position on Team B) sucks in his breath, marshals his adrenaline, engages his feet and runs pell-mell toward Team A's line, trying to break through. If Billy can't... break through, I mean... then he is captured and must remain a member of Team A. If, however, Billy does manage to break through, then he selects a member of Team A... usually the strongest and fastest member of Team A... to take back home and join Team B. The game goes on until one team is out of players. Or until recess ends. Some schools, I am told, now forbid the playing of Red Rover on the grounds that it has the potential to become overly rough and violent. Truth be told, I suspect most kids play it anyway. As a kid, I quickly learned that, in playing Red Rover, my head was as important as my body. When the opposing team called, "Red Rover, Red Rover, let Billy cross over," they were counting on the fact that they would be able to keep my body from penetrating their line... given that I clearly and obviously lacked the girth then that I possess now. They had absolutely no respect for my physical prowess... failing to see in me the athletic behemoth I would one day become. But while I may have been spindly, I was far from stupid. I knew I did not have to overwhelm all 20 kids in that line. I only had to overwhelm one... or at most, two. Somewhere in that line, there had to be... just had to be... two kids whose linked arms were scrawnier than my chest. So after isolating them, I ran at them, through them, or over them. Whatever it took. For I learned, early in life, that Team A's line was only as strong as its weakest link. That was shortly before I learned that if we are all created equal, it is only at the point of opportunity, and seldom (if ever) at the point of ability. I remember long years of my life when I would have gladly traded the things I was good at, for even one of the things I wasn't. I would have willingly accepted C's on my report card in return for the ability to hit a curve ball. And 12 years of violin training I would have ditched in a heartbeat for the knowledge that I could beat up Frankie Paciero (if necessary) or turn the head of sweet Janie Swift. To be sure, I had a couple of ten-talent chips in my genetic poker hand. But for years, I didn't know what they were and wouldn't have valued them if I had. The weakest link. In some setting... on some day... in some endeavor... that's going to be every one of us. (by William A Ritter from www.Sermons.com)
A Small Act of Kindness
Let me suggest that you try something that never gets old or stale or unsatisfying. Do something for somebody truly in need. Let me tell you about a man named Floyd. According to the standards of the world Floyd was nobody. Floyd traveled around the country looking for work at harvest time. Floyd had no home and no place to go. A couple invited him into their home and gave him a home-cooked dinner. Floyd said very little as they ate. The wife, Nancy, offered to wash his clothes for him but Floyd declined the offer. He picked cherries in the orchard next to their home that day and slept under the trees that gave him his livelihood. Early the next morning Floyd returned to the couple who had shown him kindness. While he finished one last project in the orchard, Nancy, on an impulse, wrote him a letter telling of God's love. Then she tucked it with a little cash into a New Testament. She found his backpack in the yard, and stuck the packet inside. She imagined him traveling that day looking for work and at the end of the day bedding down somewhere under the stars, weary and all alone. She was warmed by the thought of Floyd's surprise when he discovered her note, the New Testament and the cash she had planted in his backpack. This Christian couple never saw Floyd again. Four years later Floyd's sister wrote to the them, telling of his death. As Floyd's sister was going through his few belongings she found the New Testament and the letter Nancy wrote telling of God's love. "They must have been very dear to his heart," Floyd's sister concluded, "for he carried them with him until he died." It was such a simple gesture " a note, a Bible and a little cash " but little counts for a lot in the kingdom of God. I don't know about you, but I want to be surprised at finding myself among the sheep on that day of judgment. More importantly, want to possess a faith that's real. I want to take advantage of one of the most joyous opportunities Christ gives us, to minister to him. (by Nancy Leman from Traveling Friend Adapted by King Duncan, www.Sermons.com)
I Kept an Open Door
A Jewish story goes: I went up to Heaven in a dream and stood at the Gates of Paradise in order to observe the procedure of the Heavenly Tribunal. I watched as a learned Rabbi approached and wished to enter. "Day and night," he said, "I studied the Holy Torah". "Wait," said the Angel. "We will investigate whether your study was for its own sake or whether it was a matter of profession and for the sake of honors. A Righteous Person [a Zaddik] next approached. "I fasted much," he said, "I underwent many ritual cleansings; I studied the Zohar the mystical commentary on the Torah day and night." "Wait," said the Angel, "until we have completed our investigation to learn whether you motives were pure." Then a tavern-keeper drew near. "I kept an open door and fed without charge every poor man who came into my inn," he said. The Heavenly Portals were opened to him. (by Rabbi Aaron Leib of Primishlan, as quoted in Abraham Karp, The Jewish Way of Life and Thought, New York: KTAV Publishing Inc., 1981, p.177)
Why Do You Wear that Battered Cloak?
When Martin of Tours (who lived in the 4th century), a young Roman soldier and seeker of the Christian faith, met an unclothed man begging for alms in the freezing cold, he stopped and cut his coat in two and gave half to the stranger. That night he dreamt he saw the heavenly court with Jesus robed in a torn cloak. One of the angels present asked, "Master, why do you wear that battered cloak?" Jesus replied, "My servant Martin gave it to me." Martin's disciple and biographer Sulpicius Severus states that as a consequence of this vision Martin "flew to be baptized". God is gracious and merciful; his love compels us to treat others with mercy and kindness. When we do something for one of Christ's little ones, we do it for Christ. Do you treat your neighbor with mercy and love as Christ has treated you? (by Don Schwager from
)
Lest We Forget
When Queen Victoria celebrated her diamond jubilee in 1897, the London Times printed Rudyard Kipling's poem "Recessional". It scandalized the English because instead of celebrating their empire, the poem called them to repentance. The refrain "lest we forget--lest we forget" ended each stanza. England too stood under God's judgment and might vanish as a power on the world stage. The tumult and the shouting dies; The captains and the kings depart: Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! (by Edgar Krentz from Justice and Judgment, article in The Christian Century, Nov 6, 1996)
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24
God is here looking for you and me. He is looking to save us and he is looking to live in us. The question we need to ask ourselves is this, "Are we looking for him?" -- Patrick O' Loughlin
Ephesians 1:15-23
In a sermon on prayer, Bruce Wilkinson said: "On my first trip to Israel I was on a ship that docked on the Isle of Patmos, where John wrote Revelation. I was so lonely for my family I didn't even go back up to the cave where he wrote it. I wanted to be by myself so I walked the streets of Patmos until I found a coffee shop. I sat down and prayed. 'Lord, I'm in the middle of nowhere. I don't know anyone. Send someone who needs you.' The guy at the next table said, 'Do you want some coffee? I'll buy. Are you off that ship?' 'Yes,' I said. I moved over to his table and he bought me a cup of coffee. 'What's the matter?' He said, 'What do you mean what's the matter?' I said, 'I don't know. What's the matter?' 'I just left my wife and I'm not going back. I'm going to try to go on the ship to get to the next island so I can fly out of here.' 'Would you believe I'm all the way from Atlanta, Georgia, for one reason -- to get you back to your wife?' 'Impossible!' he said. 'Let me return the favor of the coffee.' And for the next hour God broke through and that young man came to know Christ. I told him, 'If you make it up with your wife before the boat leaves, you come wave.' 'It'll never happen.' 'You're a miracle. Give God a chance.' I got on the boat, and was praying like crazy. I went to the back of the boat overlooking the harbor and will never forget what I saw. Down off the rocky cliff came this young couple holding hands and waving! I'm convinced that if I hadn't prayed that man would have never said a word to me."
Matthew 25:31-46
Few brothers have differed so greatly in character as former President Jimmy Carter and his brother Billy. Jimmy graduated near the top of his class at the U.S. Naval Academy and was a nuclear engineer. Billy graduated at the bottom of his high school class and ran a gas station. Jimmy was a gracious gentleman, Billy was an irreverent good ol' boy. Jimmy once recounted how he and Billy differed: "Billy's had this element of irresponsibility -- that he didn't give a damn -- that I find intriguing. Nothing would grieve me more than to be thought of as irresponsible. I always set goals for myself; Billy did not. I'm highly disciplined; Billy is not. I'm always well prepared for any task I undertake; Billy is not. There's absolutely nothing unorthodox about me; Billy's always been unorthodox. I'm deeply religious. Even devout. Billy's not. I'm reconciliatory in nature; Billy's not. I'm very circumspect in what I say and do; Billy's not. Yet, despite their differences, Jimmy never once was ashamed to call Billy his brother. He didn't always agree with everything Billy did, but Jimmy Carter never distanced himself from the brother he loved."
Communion
C.S. Lewis was born in Belfast, Ireland, on November 29, 1898. He was educated by a private tutor prior to entering University College, Oxford, in 1916. He taught at Magdalen College, Oxford, from 1925 to 1954, and from 1954 until his death in Oxford he was professor of medieval and Renaissance English at Cambridge University in Cambridge. Lewis became a Christian in 1931 and is best remembered as a Christian writer and apologist. Concerning the Incarnation of Christ, C.S. Lewis wrote: "Lying at your feet is your dog. Imagine, for the moment, that your dog and every dog is in deep distress. Some of us love dogs very much. If it would help all the dogs in the world to become like men, would you be willing to become a dog? Would you put down your human nature, leave your loved ones, your job, hobbies, your art and literature and music, and choose instead of the intimate communion with your beloved, the poor substitute of looking into the beloved's face and wagging your tail, unable to smile or speak? Christ by becoming man limited the thing that to Him was the most precious thing in the world; his unhampered, unhindered communion with the Father.
Kindness
Morton Kondracke is one of the best-known journalists in Washington. He was a regular on the McLaughlin Group and The Beltway Boys television shows. In 1987, his wife Milly was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. She told Mort: "I've seen Parkinson's. It's a horrible disease. I won't be able to talk. I won't be able to walk. I won't be able to swallow. I won't be able to eat. You'll have to take me to the bathroom. I'll be totally dependent. You won't love me anymore. You'll leave me." But Mort deeply loved Milly. He continued to care for her and to love her. Describing their ordeal, he wrote: "You just ask God's help every day, multiple times a day. I couldn't do this without God's help. I pray for help and strength and Milly's deliverance, all the time." "I simply could not do this without feeling that I was doing God's work in a small way. I've asked God innumerable times, you know, so what is my purpose here on earth? "Hoping that he will add a new and grandiose dimension to this, which he never does, the message always comes back the same: 'Your job here is to take care of Milly.' "