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November 20, 2005 Christ the King (A) Reverend Mr. David Shea Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17 X 1 Corinthians 15:20-26, 28 X Matthew 25:31-46
It is a setting we have all seen far too often. The judge sits in his chair on a raised platform behind an impressive large desk. An American flag stands behind him in clear view of the courtroom. We’re sitting at the back of the room with the rest of the curious. Family members and close friends are in front of us—there is a look of anxiety on their faces. The defendant is brought into the room with armed guards on either side of him. He’s in an orange suit; his wrists are handcuffed to his waist and his legs are shackled. He shuffles along in short steps, almost dragging his feet—with each slow pace the chain between his ankles pulls taut. He is seated on the left side of the courtroom. His verdict was guilty and today he’ll be sentenced. The judge instructs him to stand and with a few short sentences, sends him to perdition for twenty-five years. There are gasps and sobs, and the defendant shrieks at the top of his lungs, ridiculing and screaming at the judge. He feels the pain of judgment but takes no responsibility for what he’s done. He is dragged from the courtroom while everyone watches in horror.
Today’s Gospel presents us with a similar scene. Christ the shepherd, he who cared so much for the lost sheep, Christ the Son of Man, is presiding at the great judgment. He, who was once sentenced and condemned, is now addressed as King. He who once humbly hung between two criminals—one on his right, who mocked and cursed him, and one on his left, who asked to be remembered—he now comes in power in all his glory with all his angels. Before him all are assembling. And great throngs of nations and people are being separated. The faithful and righteous are placed on the right—the side of favor, honor, and blessing. The others are placed on the left standing shoulder-to-shoulder on death’s row. There’s no appeal; there’s no higher court. How each has lived, so each is judged. The good are rewarded, the bad are punished. A lifetime of choices, a lifetime of inactions, now comes down to this—to the right or to the left.
There is a great hush—not even whispers can be heard. Christ the King divides those who will enter the kingdom, from those who will go off to punishment. Christ, who loved humankind so much, now condemns those who rejected him to eternal torment. As those on the left are ushered away, their heads are bowed and they are unable to look into the eyes of Christ. In their lifetimes they had so often refused to see his face, the “disfigured face of Christ” in the needy. Each time they encountered him, they glanced and “saw his fear, his shame, his brokenness, his sense of loss, and his eyes pleading for help.” They looked just long enough to remember what they saw, but too short a time to do anything about it. They merely turned away and walked on.
For anyone who ever thought that we’d all get to heaven, think again—today’s Gospel debunks that myth. For a culture of pleasure where we suffer from a severe case of amnesia about penance, self-denial, death, heaven and hell—today’s Gospel should shake us to the core of our beings. We will be judged and we will be held accountable. Some of us will go to heaven, and some of us will go to hell. And where we go has everything to do with choice—eternal life should define our way of living on earth, and what we do here matters. Do we want to be on the right or the left?
I have this image of God’s judgment that goes back to my childhood and somehow it has stuck with me all of my life. God has this immense book and in it there’s a section for each of us. A permanent, complete, and accurate accounting of our lives recorded by God Himself—God the bookkeeper with a perfect and irrefutable memory. And in that book is all the good and all the bad we’ve ever done—it is like the report card of our lives. On that Day of Judgment, we’ll find out our final grade, and all of eternity depends on that grade. And it’s a very simple grading system—did we serve Christ by serving the least? When we saw people hungry, did we give them a plate of food? When we saw someone poorly clothed, did we give them a coat? When we learned someone was lonely, did we give them any of our time? When we saw someone sick, did we care for them? And when we were told about the imprisoned, did we ever visit them? When we found someone in despair, did we offer a listening ear? When we encountered any human need, did we respond in charity and mercy?
What Jesus is asking is something that all of us, as individuals and as nations, can do. We need not be wealthy, we need not be ordained, we need not be nurses or doctors—we need only be lovers of Christ and care for the least significant human person in need. Unreasonable demands are not being placed on us. The kinds of mercies that Jesus rewards are within the reach of every single one of us. Jesus looks at us and says, I am the hungry person in the street weary and underfed; I am the homeless refugee without clothes on her back or food in his stomach; I am the waiting and the anxious parent; I am the nursing home patient, wheelchair-bound and alone; I am the confused and abused child; and I am the condemned man alone in a prison cell. This is the face you are to look for—this is the face you are to serve . . . it is mine.
References & Resources—A Partial List
Bergant, Dianne, with Richard Fragomeni. Preaching the New Lectionary, Cycle A. Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 2001.
Duggan, Robert, and Virginia Stillwell. Living the Word, Scripture Reflections and Commentaries for Sundays and Holy Days. Franklin Park, IL: World Library Publications, 2004.
Reid, Barbara E. Parables for Preachers, The Gospel of Matthew, Year A. Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 2001.
West, Fritz. Serving the Word, Christ the King Proper 29. Homily Service, v.38 no.12, p.59-62 ©David Shea
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