Serving "the least of these"

This is a sermon I preached about my year so far in Hollywood at Memorial Drive Presbyterian Church in Atlanta on December 27, 2009. The scripture I used was Matthew 25: 31-46, the parable of the sheep and the goats. It also references Matthew 26:6-13. Someday I will develop the end more so the conclusion isn't quite so choppy and abrupt. But here it is as it was preached.

For me and for many others, this passage in Matthew really sums up what the message of Jesus is all about. Serving "the least of these." These verses also have played a crucial part in inspiring the creation of countless Christian charities and philanthropic organizations. When I was a college student at Trinity University in San Antonio, I regularly volunteered at St. Vincent De Paul soup kitchen downtown. St. Vincent De Paul serves three meals a day to around fifty homeless people in San Antonio. The words of Matthew 25:40, "just as you did for the least of these, you did also for me," are painted prominently on the wall in the dining room.

Unfortunately, however, for many Christians in our present times, these verses seem to inspire giving out of guilt rather than out of a sincere Christian love of neighbor. See, Jesus tells the parable of the sheep and the goats in the context of salvation and judgment day. Therefore, when we read this, we tend to focus more on the final outcome of either eternal life or eternal punishment rather than thinking about what the world would look like if its Christians seriously dedicated themselves to serving "the least of these."

Thus, when we start making this parable a blueprint for how to secure our salvation, we totally corrupt its central message. The parable's central message -- and one of, if not THE central message of Jesus' entire ministry -- is that self-less love for one's neighbor and sacrifice on behalf of the poor and oppressed are the core values of the Kingdom of God. So when we perform acts of charity out of a sense of obligation to what the Bible says, or because we want to secure our own salvation, or because we want to somehow prove our own piety, we are acting purely out of self-interest and thus have everything totally backwards.

I don't want to get too bogged down in the theological debate over being saved by grace or faith vs. being saved by works, but I will say that as a Presbyterian, I believe that we act out of self-less love and sacrifice on behalf of the poor in response to having God's love and salvation, not the other way around.

However, there is another disturbing consequence of performing acts of charity out of a sense of obligation rather than out of selfless love. When you simply clothe the naked, give a drink to the thirsty or feed the hungry "because the Bible says so," you tend not to follow up with said naked, thirsty or hungry person. And you think of the person you just helped as just that: "a hungry woman" or "a homeless man." You don't know them for who they really are: Jim. Kristina. David. A mother. A father. A child of God. And most importantly, you have no idea what happened after your deed was completed, because it's not like you stuck around to find out. Most likely, they were hungry or thirsty again just a few hours later, or as you may (or may not know) in the case of the panhandlers in downtown Atlanta, maybe they weren't hungry or thirsty or homeless at all but were actually doing relatively well. They were only pretending to be among "the least of these," because other people's isolated, uninterested acts of charity can be turned into a lucrative business.

We know from the Bible that Jesus and his followers didn't just perform isolated, uninterested acts of charity. In fact, in the very next chapter of Matthew, his disciples want to do exactly that, but Jesus rebukes them. After telling the parable from our scripture reading today, Jesus and his disciples go to the house of Simon the Leper. While there, a woman pours a jar of very expensive ointment on Jesus' head. The disciples, surely wanting to prove that they had been paying attention during the parable they heard earlier, call the act a waste and insist that the ointment should have been sold and the money given to the poor. Jesus then defends the woman in verses 10 and 11 of Matthew 26, saying "Why do you trouble this woman? She has performed a good service for me. For you will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me."

That last part is surely one of the most misunderstood verses that's frequently quoted out of context in the whole Bible. Despite popular opinion, especially if you ask most supply-side, free-market Christians, Jesus was not telling his followers that they might as well not help the poor because there will always be poverty. Rather, he was remarking that the rightful place of Jesus disciples will always be with the poor. You will always be with the poor, because it is your mission to serve them. Jesus and his disciples made their living amongst "the least of these," dwelling and dining with society's downtrodden.

You see, Jesus wouldn't serve food from across the other side of a counter at a bread line. Jesus would sit down at the same table as his companions. And wash their feet beforehand. He was always touching the lepers and allowing himself to be touched by outcasts and prostitutes.

Have you ever actually touched a homeless person? Not just brushing them in the process of handing over some spare change (or if you're one of those really thoughtful, prepared people, a granola bar or bottle of water instead) but actually just shaken the hand of someone who is homeless, or given them a hug?

I got a hug from Jennifer a few weeks ago. Jennifer is one of the homeless clients I outreach to at my job (her name has been changed). For those of you who might not know, I am currently serving in Los Angeles as a Young Adult Volunteer for the Presbyterian Church (USA), which, for lack of a better description, is basically a year long experiment in humbly attempting to live out these verses from Matthew 25. My job, as a "professional volunteer" is street outreach and case management for an organization called PATH, which stands for People Assisting the Homeless. Basically, every day I and a team of one or two other people drive through Los Angeles engaging people who live on the streets to try to help them find permanent housing or at least get them in to temporary shelter.

Jennifer is a client that the street outreach team has been approaching for a long time -- since well before I arrived in September. We always see Jennifer around the same parking lot of the same strip mall near the LA airport. Sometimes she is digging through the dumpster in the parking lot, but usually she's just sitting beneath a tree on the corner watching the traffic go by. As we do with all of our clients when we approach them, we always offer Jennifer a sack lunch. Usually, she refuses the lunch. Frequently, when she sees us coming she makes it known that she doesn't want to talk to us. Sometimes, she just scowls and shakes her head or politely says "no thank-you." Other times she curtly tells us to go away or even screams at us until we leave. But occasionally, like one day a few weeks ago, she is very nice, accepts a lunch and lets us talk to her for a minute or two.

Usually, my coworkers and I proceed delicately to ask her how her day is going, if she's thought about coming into shelter and whether there's anything else we can do to help her. We stick to these basics in fear that more probing questions might turn one of her good days into a bad day. So you can imagine our surprise on that particular day when she told us that she would like a shower. Very surprised and excited, we told her we could take her in our van right away to the PATH shelter where we work in Hollywood, so she could take a shower. She accepted our offer, and after we helped her into the van for the ride back, which lasted over half an hour, no one said a word. Jennifer took a short nap while my two outreach teammates and I sat in silence as we wondered what possessed Jennifer to be so open, vulnerable and trusting today.

Once we arrived back at the shelter, Jennifer took a 30 minute shower. Afterwards, we asked if she would like to stay in the shelter (we had a couple of beds available). She said no and instead requested that we transport her back to her spot. So after another relatively quiet 30 minute van ride, we dropped her off, said goodbye and assured her that we were always there for her, whatever she might need. And then, without warning, she turned and gave me a big hug, whispering "thank-you" in my ear.

I found out later that it was not the first time Jennifer had come in for a shower and given a hug afterwards. According to my boss, every three months or so, she asks if she can come take a shower, which usually puts her in a hug-giving mood afterwards. And then, in the weeks that follow, it's always back to the way it was before: the next time we see Jennifer she'll probably not want to be bothered. Sure enough, the following week when we were working in Jennifer's area, she declined to talk with us or accept our sack lunch. To this day, the outreach team and I are still engaging and developing a relationship with Jennifer, and she still has her good days and bad days.

If you think that story was a little anti-climactic, your forgiven. Homeless outreach and case management are like that. Sure, there are success stories and inspiring moments like when Jennifer came in for a hug and a shower or when another one of our clients decided to come into shelter and accept substance abuse counseling after more than 10 years of alcoholism and living on the street. But much of the work day to day is frustrating and at times mundane.

Which may be a good thing. See, my goal today is to inspire, but not over-inspire. I will reiterate the theological point I was trying to make earlier that we can only respond to God's love and salvation. How I am called to respond isn't necessarily how YOU are called to respond. Right now, I am just picturing your apprehension about what on earth to do the next time you see a homeless person. Next thing I know, you 'll be fired from your job after arriving 2 hours late one day when you decided to take a man living on the street out to breakfast and listen to his life story after he asked you for something to eat on your way to work. I don't necessarily want that. (Though if you decide you're needing a change in your life, you should go for it! Maybe that would be a great opportunity.)

Christian author, activist and poverty fighter Shane Claiborne once wrote that the problem with American Christians isn't that they aren't trying to help the poor; the problem is that they don't know the poor. Because once you develop a relationship with "the least of these," helping and serving them stops being an obligation, because it will just follow naturally. That's what I'm trying to do. that's what I invite you to do. It's not easy. It doesn't happen overnight. For most of us, especially a solidly middle class, American white male like myself, it includes many mistakes and requires a lot of grace. But God's got a lot of grace to give. Hallelujah! Amen.