The end is near: the end of our liturgical year, the end of our survey of the Gospel of Matthew, the end of the final teachings of Jesus in what is called by various theologians, the Olivet Discourse, or the Judgment Discourse, or the Eschatological Discourse. In the narrative of the Gospel of Matthew, this passage is the last teaching before the Passion. The parallel portion in Mark is brief and apocalyptic. The parallel portion in John is called the Farewell Discourse, and it goes on and on (and on).

What has come just before our Gospel lesson for today, is called the Parable of the Talents. If you were here last week, you’ll remember that I read that Gospel lesson as a satire, which is what I think it is. I wasn’t preaching, so I offered my commentary as best as I could using my voice to convey that I believe that the hero in this story is not the slave master/king, not the shrewd investors, but the one who was cast into the outer darkness in retribution for taking the slave master’s money out of circulation. (1) I understand that my tone was shocking and offensive to some, and a huge relief to others. And I guess what I want to say about that is, while I’m sure I don’t have the final answers about what any of scripture might mean, I believe that we are called to wrestle with God in Holy Scripture – and as Christians, with the Holy Gospel, and that, in the struggle, lies a blessing (even if it leaves us walking with a limp).

Part of why I believe that the hero is the one thrown into the outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, is that what comes next is “but when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.” In our NRSV, the word “but” isn’t translated. I guess it doesn’t make sense if the heroes are understood to be the investors (and words that don’t fit get eliminated in translating). Nevertheless, it is there in the Greek to demonstrate the contrast between being cast out and being in the center of splendor, between a place of weeping and teeth-gnashing and a throng of angels surrounding a throne of glory.  The one cast out is the same one later lifted up.

What he has against goats, I do not know. (And I spent much too much time going down an exegetical rabbit hole on Friday trying to figure it out.) Matthew loves stories which encourage folks not to worry about separating the good from the bad – insisting that God will take care of that. God will take separate the wheat from the chaff, the wheat from the weeds, the edible fish from inedible fish, but the sheep from the goats?  What’s the matter with goats? They’re perfectly kosher. There are lots of theories out there, but none that seemed at all compelling to me. For whatever reason, the sheep in this teaching represent those who did acts of love and mercy to the least, and the goats represent those who did not, and apparently, it will be fairly easy to tell which is which, and maybe that’s all there is to it.
What’s interesting is that all of the nations will be gathered. That says to me that within every nation are ones who will receive the blessing and ones who won’t. The ones who will receive the blessing will be the ones who responded to hunger with food, to thirst with water, to strangeness with welcome, to over-exposure with clothing, to sickness with care, and to imprisonment with a visit. The ones who will not receive the blessing will be the ones who, when confronted with the needs of another, did not respond with food or water or welcome or clothing or care or a visit.

What’s interesting is that none of them seemed to know that the neediest people were representing the Son of Man. Those who responded and those who did not respond were all surprised and puzzled. We get the sense that maybe the ones who didn’t respond would have if they’d known that it was The Son of Man. The Son of Man is a title used some thirty times in the Gospel of Matthew by Jesus to refer to himself. In Hebrew Scripture, it is a phrase meaning a human being, it’s has a sense of being the salt of the earth, a mensch. It’s also associated in one verse of the book of Daniel with the apocalyptic vision of messianic hope, where, in a vision, Daniel saw “one, like a human being, coming with the clouds of heaven, who was given dominion over all of the peoples, and nations and languages.” It seems that Matthew is alluding to Daniel’s vision in this passage. Although I imagine that Jesus understood himself to be a human being, I doubt that Jesus ever understood himself to be a heavenly messiah. It’s clear that after his crucifixion, his earliest followers experienced him that way (and I experience him that way too, by the way).

But the most interesting thing of all, is that, according to Matthew, what matters in the end is not believing, but beloving. Receiving the final blessing, according to Matthew, has nothing to do with being born again or being baptized, nothing to do with credentials or creeds. It has everything to do with hospitality, with caring actions, with scandalous compassion for people who are most vulnerable. Matthew is making it clear that, “at the center of Christian faith is one who stands with outsiders, those marginalized and too often uninvited guests among us in our communities….[furthermore,] Matthew is making it clear by this teaching that God’s redemptive work is not the property of some over and against others, served on demand according to human conventions and stamped with the seal of ownership” – whether Protestant or Catholic or Orthodox Christian, whether Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist or atheist or none of the above. (2) God’s redemptive work is not the property of any one nation or ethnicity or religious identification.

In this last teaching of Jesus, he is offering encouragement and pastoral care to his disciples – those closest to him who have asked, in private, when things are going to turn around – when it’s going to get better. What we imagine is that Matthew is using this teaching to comfort and encourage the missionaries of his early Christian community, who were being sent out to spread of the Word – the good news of God in Jesus Christ. Their lives would depend on the hospitality being described and Jesus is assuring them that they were embodying him. And Matthew is using this teaching to encourage people everywhere – in all of the nations -- to act courageously in extending hospitality, because in doing so, some entertain angels unaware, as the writer of the book of Hebrews put it. (3) Matthew takes it a step further – not just angels, but Jesus Christ himself.

In this ethical teaching, Jesus is reminding his disciples of what they already know. The most frequently occurring commandment in Jewish teaching is to care for the stranger with deeds of loving kindness. But all the nations might not know that yet. While Matthew might have intended this message to be applied to a particular group of missionaries in particular settings, his expansive visionary inclusion of all the nations leads me to believe that a universal interpretation or application is perfectly right – perfectly righteous! Righteousness, according to Jesus, in the Gospel of Matthew, is about deeds of love and kindness to those who are vulnerable.

While Matthew’s community might have struggled in their wait for Jesus to come again in great glory, this Gospel writer is offering assurance that Jesus is not absent at all. Jesus is fully present in the neediest people: the hungriest, thirstiest, strangest, sickest, nakedest, incarcerated, and blessing upon blessing will be bestowed on all who act to alleviate their suffering. And it’s not too late because, as it turns out, the beginning is near. The beginning is near.