In just a few weeks, people will be singing a well-known carol.

“Hark, the herald angels sing! Glory to the newborn King!” we’ll sing, as we celebrate the coming of Christ, our King, to earth as our savior.

Today, though, we sing of Christ, our King, in a very different context. Today, in our closing hymn, we’ll sing “to Jesus Christ, our sovereign king, who is the world’s salvation!” We’ll describe Jesus in very different words from those in the Christmas songs.

“Christ, Jesus, victor!” we’ll sing. “Christ Jesus ruler! Christ Jesus Lord and Redeemer!”

The newborn king we sang of last December, the newborn king we’ll sing of next month, today we see very differently.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory,  and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him.”

Not surrounded by sleeping animals, visited by shepherds, but seated upon his glorious throne.

Yet still, he remains a shepherd himself, as he separates the nations “as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.”

Shepherd and king, like the shepherd-king David.

But king and shepherd like no other.

This king comes with a message of hope, a message of love, and a message which presents us with a challenge.

As the king, Son of God and Son of Man, separates the nations, he issues an invitation, and he issues a condemnation.

Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, ill, in prison, and you ministered to me. ^[i]

And so the righteous are welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven.

But it’s interesting how they respond. I’ve read this passage many times, and preached about it three times now, and I’ve never noticed it before.

How do the righteous respond? It’s almost as if they say to the Lord, “Are you sure you’ve got the right people? We don’t remember doing any of that!”

How could that be? After all, these are the righteous ones. These are the people who have done God’s will in their lives. Why don’t they stand before the Lord, happy, and thankful, and even a bit proud – in the best sense – of how they’ve lived for Christ and done the will of the Father?

Why are they so surprised about their eternal reward? After all, wasn’t that what was promised to them?

But what do they say in reply to the King?

Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger, or naked, ill or in prison?^[ii]

And when the King turns to the others, the accursed, and says,

Depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. You gave me no food, no drink, no welcome, no clothing. You did not care for me. ^[iii]

And they, too, seem surprised. “When did this happen? When did we not minister to you?”

Why are these people so clueless? Why are they so surprised at their reward, or their punishment?

After all, the good people must have known that they were doing good, right? And the evil, didn’t they really know what they should have been doing?

Ya gotta wonder just a little, don’t ya?

Is this REALLY the way things will take place when Christ, our King, returns at the end of time?

So how do we understand this? What is Christ telling us here, through the words of Matthew?

Well, I’m not really sure myself. I have a feeling that great theologians have been wondering about it, and discussing it, for centuries. And I’m no great theologian.

But maybe we can look at it this way:

A few weeks ago, when I last stood here, I spoke about the two great commandments, “Love God above all, and love your neighbor as you love yourself,” as the foundation of Christian morality. These commandments, Christ told us, are the foundation upon which all of the other commandments, all the admonitions of the prophets, all of his parables and teachings stand.

When we take those commandments to heart, and when we truly live them, they become, I would hope, the foundation of our own lives.

If the foundation of a building is strong, and well constructed, we don’t give it much thought. It’s just there, holding up the structure, giving it stability, and strength. We live and work in the building, enjoying its warmth, its comfort. But we don’t really think much about that foundation, do we?

So it is with the foundation of our life in Christ, the twofold commandment to love.

If it’s strong, we don’t even know it’s there.

So, in living our lives, we love.

We love God, and stand before him in worship.

We love our neighbor, and when he’s in need, provide for him.

We don’t consciously look for Christ in our neighbor, but Christ is there. Oh, there are times when we might be made aware of it, but do we think about it most of the time?

When we went shopping this week, or looked through our pantries for food to bring to the altar today for our neighbors, how many of us thought, “I’m feeding Christ?”

More likely, we might have thought, “I need to bring this food to Church. People need this food.” Not, “Christ needs this food.”

We may well be aware, as we do this, that Christ calls us to do it. That Christ asks us to do it.

But feed Christ? Why would we need to feed Christ!

Why, Christ feeds us!

“Take and eat. This is my Body.”

“This is the cup of my Blood. Drink it.”

Look around you now. Do you see Christ?

Today, Matthew tells us that we do, indeed, see Christ when we look at others. And not just those who need those physical things, food, drink, shelter, clothing.

Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; Christ is in them, too.

Those who are poor in spirit, searching for truth, Christ is in them.

Those who are persecuted for the sake of right, Christ is in them, too. ^[iv]

In our gospel today, the King is speaking not only of the physically wanting, but of those who are in want spiritually as well.

He speaks of those who suffer because of him, and those who reach out to others because of their love of him, and because that love brings them to love others.

And he tells us that these, brothers and sisters of Christ, bear his likeness.

It may be invisible to us most of the time, and so we may indeed stand before the King at the end of time and say, “When did we feed you?”

Or we might be able to take this knowledge from here today, and begin to see more clearly that Christ is in those around us, and so we might be able to stand before the King and say, “I tried to see you in others, and tried to do for you in doing for them.”

Not so easy, but worth trying, isn’t it?

This weekend, Sussex County Community College presented its first musical performance. That first musical is Godspell, a musical based on the Gospel of Saint Matthew. Kind of nice, I think, that our county college, sited at the former home of Don Bosco College, presented in its theater, the former chapel of Don Bosco, the Gospel of Matthew.

In Godspell, one of the characters sings a song adapted from an Anglican hymn, that can be a model for us in living that life that Christ calls us to live in all of the gospels. A life that will bring us to stand at his right hand when he comes:

Day by day
Day by day
Oh Dear Lord
Three things I pray
To see thee more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly
Day by day

Three things.

See you, wherever you are.

Love you, in whomever you live.

Follow you, wherever you go.

Every day. All I ask is that you help me do it.

And then, when I stand before you, I can trust that I did, indeed, serve you. Even when I couldn’t see you very well.