Sunday, November 26, 2017

Lynne Clements

“Kingdom Vision”

I don’t see well.

It is a fact of my life and I have grown to accept it,

but I surely wish it were different.

I wish that I could swim in the ocean and perceive how far the waves are from me.

I wish that I could look into a grove of trees and find the hawk

disguised by the dappling light in the leaves.

I wish I could throw a ball and have it land where I want it.

I wish I could see better than I do.

I cannot remember a time when I didn’t squint to see the menu on the marquee or the score on the scoreboard. I cannot remember a time when I didn’t lean close to a book to read the print without my glasses. In fact, I cannot remember a time when I did see well.

And so it is hard to know the moment exactly when I reached the point when vision correction was necessary. Truly, I didn’t always know that my vision was so bad. Therefore it took someone who could see that my perceptions were off, who could see the details that I missed or mistook, someone who could check my vision who determined I needed a patch first, then surgery, and finally glasses.

Even now, I love having my eyes examined. The doctor pulls that special mask over my face and says, “What can you see?” Sometimes I can see most everything in the big line. But don’t you know that as those letters get smaller, I am literally guessing. F? G? A? B? Z?

Then comes my favorite part. Which is clearer – 1 or 2 (and the little lens clicks back and forth), 3 or 4 (click), 5 or 6 (click). With every one of those clicks, my vision is restored. I can read those little letters and the outline of the lighted box is as clear as the outline of an oak leaf in an autumn sky.

But none of that can happen without my eye doctor whose awareness about my limited eyesight and whose knowledge about perfect vision combine to help me see as fully and as clearly as I can.

A lot of work goes in to correcting vision.

But correcting vision isn’t always about eyesight.

Often, correcting vision can be about adjusting how someone sees the world.

And occasionally, one’s vision of the world can be so distorted, so clouded, so completely impaired that a whole new lens is needed.

This passage from Matthew is a whole new lens. And Jesus, the one with perfect vision, is the one offering to those who follow him a radical way of seeing the world and God’s kingdom.

Matthew 25:31-46 is like the last scene in a movie, so it only makes fullest sense when you understand what has happened before. For most of the gospel, Jesus is teaching on the hillside and preaching what we often call the Sermon on the Mount. By the time we get to chapter 24, the disciples have seen Jesus heal and feed the people, heard him teach through parables, and witnessed him being questioned by the Pharisees in Jerusalem. Consider this his last lecture in the gospel of Matthew. Now Jesus has started talking about the destruction of the temple and the disciples want to know when they are going to see the sign of his coming and the end of the age. They want to see more clearly what is going to happen when Jesus comes to rule, Jesus gives them prophecies and parables about faithful and unfaithful servants, wise and foolish virgins and good and bad stewards. Then a final parable about sheep and goats.

Wait. What?

You know they had to be staring at him the way I stare at the blurry letters I cannot see, full of uncertainty and doubt. You know they had to be rubbing their eyes, trying to see exactly what Jesus was showing them through his story. You know they had to be squinting as they listened to Jesus.

Through this parable, Jesus gives them a kingdom vision test.

First, Jesus tests their vision of the one who will come to rule. He knows that they have been longing for a king of power and military might. He knows that they have yearned for a king who will come and restore Israel to its former glory. He knows what they want a king to judge the nations, but go easy on them.

Click.

But the ruler in Jesus’ parable is none of those things; indeed, the ruler in the parable is a shepherd-king. A king armed with a staff, not a sword. A king who gathers all the people to him, who has known them and watched them, and who separates them when the night comes into the blessed and the damned.

Click.

Then Jesus tests their perception of who will be welcomed into the kingdom. He knows that among those listening are ones who have believed that by following the law they have earned their way to an eternal reward. He knows that among his followers there are those who have not understood that in his kingdom the last shall be first. He knows that among his followers are those who have been blind to the needs of those around them and who have seen only themselves.

Click.

But those who are welcomed into the kingdom and given an inheritance are the ones who have offered acts of mercy to those in need - the ones who Jesus identifies as his brothers and sisters - the hungry, the naked, the thirsty, the sick, and the imprisoned. Those who have served and cared for the vulnerable and the marginalized, they are welcomed into the arms of the shepherd-king. And those who have not done these acts, who have not seen their brothers and sisters in need? They are sent away into eternal darkness.

Click.

At the center of this text is a question of vision: When did we see you? The righteous ones ask this question three times of the shepherd-king after hearing that they have been blessed and welcomed into inheriting the kingdom. We didn’t know we were seeing you in the face of the hungry. We didn’t know we were feeding you. We didn’t know we were seeing you in the face of the person we clothed. We didn’t know that was you who was thirsty, sick and in prison. We didn’t know we were taking care of you.

The unrighteous ask it too: When was it we saw you? We didn’t know that when we were feeding ourselves, we weren’t feeding you. We didn’t know that when we were buying new clothes, we weren’t covering your nakedness. We didn’t know that when we were too busy with our own lives, we were leaving you alone in your hospital room or prison cell.

On any given day, you and I might find ourselves part of one of these groups. In our blindness, we cannot deny that we often serve without seeing Christ and that we go through our days without serving others or seeing Christ. Each of us is both righteous and unrighteous. Each of us both commanded to care and in need of care. Each of us both under judgment for our failure to serve others and saved by grace. Each of us a shepherd and a goat.

Click.

In this parable, Jesus corrects our vision. The shepherd king who separates us is also the great king who has the power to save us. Jesus teaches us that God’s reign is characterized in the present not by miracles or powerful works, but by acts of justice and compassion, especially toward those most in need. With kingdom vision, our eyes are opened and we are convicted that to do any less than devote ourselves to acts of care and mercy is to turn away from Christ and to find ourselves in the outer darkness.

With kingdom vision, our eyes are opened and we are convicted that to act with compassion toward the least of these in our midst is to look into the face of Christ and in doing so, find ourselves welcomed into the kingdom. Indeed, every encounter with Jesus or the gospel or the Kingdom puts us in a crisis of decision. For when we confront the words, teachings and actions of the earthly Jesus, we are faced with a choice to enter in to the world with a vision for others or with eyes turned only on ourselves.

A lot of work goes in to correcting vision.

A lot of love goes in to kingdom vision.

On this Reign of Christ Sunday, we give thanks that Jesus stands close to us, holding up his life as our lens, offering himself as the frame so that we might see the world and God’s people as he does – beloved and worthy of care.

Let it be so.

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