Dee
March 13th, 2006, 12:50 PM
Do you fail to read the Bible because it is hard to understand? If so, then you will not be disappointed by today’s text. When someone is thirsty, give the thirsty one a drink. I think of this text often when I hear about torture. The implication of this text would be that all forms of torture are unchristian. Since no one listening to this sermon today practices torture or advocates torture, what does it say to us? It says that Matthew was a “behaviorist.” Psychology began as a study of the mind. Freud wanted to study the inner conflicts of the mind. The behaviorist says no, study the behavior. Alter the behavior and you will alter the mind. Get the person to practice the behavior you want and you will change that person’s mind.
Matthew was a behaviorist. Do not think about reading the Bible. Start reading. Don’t think about following Christ. Start following. Don’t think about the spiritual disciplines. Start practicing them.
I can imagine that you are saying to me, “Why do you keep saying Matthew? Why don’t you say Jesus? Isn’t this a text that in the Bible that underline the words of Jesus, wouldn’t these words be underlined?” Yes. This is a red-letter text. But it comes only from Matthew. Mark, Luke, and John did not use this text to help their congregations understand what Jesus had to say. Only Matthew did.
Maybe, just maybe, if I understand something of what the risen and living Christ was saying through Matthew to Matthew’s congregation, I will be in a better position to let him speak through me to my congregation. And what the Jesus of Matthew says to his congregation is: Don’t talk to me about who or what you are; I’m interested in what you do.
As we approach this text we remember Matthew likes to talk in simple terms about a correlation between what people do and God’s judgment. One thinks about the petition: “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” Or the warning: “With the judgment you pronounce you will be judged.” It’s almost as if he likes to say, “What you do is what you get.”
Some people will say, “Didn’t Matthew believe in grace? Aren’t we saved by God’s grace and not by our works?” Matthew believed that people do God’s will because they have experienced God’s grace or, to say it another way, Matthew believed people do
God’s will because they experienced Jesus’ healing power. Matthew’s gospel message begins with the announcement of “Immanuel”— God is with us. And it ends with the promise, “Lo, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew’s congregation knows Jesus as the great Enabler, as God’s presence in their midst. And they know it is a presence they did not earn.
Still, Matthew is not afraid to talk about God’s judgment as something related to human behavior. And that is what he does in our text.
This single verse is, of course, part of a larger text. Its position in Matthew’s narrative alone would make it important, since it is the last text before the story of the passion begins. It is also Jesus’ last discourse to his disciples. The members of Matthew’s congregation who hear the gospel read to them sense the growing tension. They also have just heard (24:30–31) about the coming of Jesus, and they may wonder what will happen when he comes in glory with the angels. Now they are about to learn. And they learn that what will happen is judgment. It is a straightforward conversation between the king and those on whom he pronounces judgment.
It simply consists of two dialogues that explain the judgment that already has taken place. In the first conversation, the Son of Man/King explains to the “blessed of my Father” why they are the elect. He mentions three pairs of deeds – six in all – that they have done. These righteous ones respond, asking when they did those things. In the rest of the text, which we did not read, the same thing happens, in reverse, with those who are cursed. Why do you suppose Jesus/Matthew says essentially the same thing four times in the course of 11 verses? He wants to be sure that even someone as slow as I am gets the point. And the point is: When I stand before God, I am what I do. Or, in this case, what I have done.
So what about those six acts of charity according to which people are divided into three camps? Last year One Great Hour of Sharing focused on one pair of them, welcoming the stranger and clothing the naked. This year I’m looking at the most basic needs of all: Then the righteous will answer and say to him: “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or thirsty and give you to drink?”
The people who have been listening to Matthew’s gospel story, if they have been paying attention, know Jesus hungered when he saw the fig tree and his disciples plucked grain for the group to eat. But now they are confronted with the surprising news that the risen Jesus still experiences hunger and thirst. His promise that he will be with us until the end of the age is indeed a comfort. But it is more than that, for now we learn he is present, not only in strength and healing, but also in weakness, in hunger and in thirst. He is present not only in the word of grace that sustains us but also in people for whom hunger and thirst may be the only signs of his presence.
And it is a presence that confronts us with the issue of our salvation. It is a presence that led John Chrysostom, the fourth century Antiochian preacher, to proclaim in the name of Christ: “Then I suffered bitter need for you, I endure it even now for you in order to move you to compassion. … On the cross I suffered thirst for you; now I thirst in the person of the poor, in order to move you to love for the sake of your own salvation.”
Thirst, I suspect, is worse than hunger. Perhaps that is why the One Great Hour of Sharing theme slices the text even more thinly to focus this year on “when was it that we saw you thirsty…” Typically, people who fast still need to drink water. Of course, too much water can also be a problem. But right now I’m remembering the people whose lives are damaged because they do not have enough water – good, clean, healthy water. Think Darfur or remember those in New Orleans that were crying out for good clean water. But then I’m also thinking it is not enough for me to think about them. Now I know I am expected to do something.
Furthermore, I am expected to do something that is in my best interest. This reference to people who are hungry and thirsty reminds me that early in his gospel story, Jesus/Matthew blesses people “who hunger and thirst for righteousness” with the promise “they shall be satisfied.” Now as the gospel story nears its end, it is these same “righteous” people who give food and drink to people who are hungry and thirsty. It turns out that righteousness, doing the will of God, is not a burden to be borne or a law to be obeyed; it is a way to satisfy my own hunger and thirst. Let me say that again. It turns out that righteousness, doing the will of God, is not a burden to be borne or a law to be obeyed; it is a way to satisfy my own hunger and thirst. May we all become behaviorists for the Gospel.
This sermon was written by using major portions of
Late Night Thoughts on Preaching on Matthew 25:37
by James E. Crouch that was posted on the Week of Compassion Web site.
James E. Crouch is a retired Disciples minister and a former New Testament professor living in southwest Virginia. He currently is translating the multi-volume Matthew commentary by Ulrich Luz for the Hermeneia commentary series.
Matthew was a behaviorist. Do not think about reading the Bible. Start reading. Don’t think about following Christ. Start following. Don’t think about the spiritual disciplines. Start practicing them.
I can imagine that you are saying to me, “Why do you keep saying Matthew? Why don’t you say Jesus? Isn’t this a text that in the Bible that underline the words of Jesus, wouldn’t these words be underlined?” Yes. This is a red-letter text. But it comes only from Matthew. Mark, Luke, and John did not use this text to help their congregations understand what Jesus had to say. Only Matthew did.
Maybe, just maybe, if I understand something of what the risen and living Christ was saying through Matthew to Matthew’s congregation, I will be in a better position to let him speak through me to my congregation. And what the Jesus of Matthew says to his congregation is: Don’t talk to me about who or what you are; I’m interested in what you do.
As we approach this text we remember Matthew likes to talk in simple terms about a correlation between what people do and God’s judgment. One thinks about the petition: “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” Or the warning: “With the judgment you pronounce you will be judged.” It’s almost as if he likes to say, “What you do is what you get.”
Some people will say, “Didn’t Matthew believe in grace? Aren’t we saved by God’s grace and not by our works?” Matthew believed that people do God’s will because they have experienced God’s grace or, to say it another way, Matthew believed people do
God’s will because they experienced Jesus’ healing power. Matthew’s gospel message begins with the announcement of “Immanuel”— God is with us. And it ends with the promise, “Lo, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew’s congregation knows Jesus as the great Enabler, as God’s presence in their midst. And they know it is a presence they did not earn.
Still, Matthew is not afraid to talk about God’s judgment as something related to human behavior. And that is what he does in our text.
This single verse is, of course, part of a larger text. Its position in Matthew’s narrative alone would make it important, since it is the last text before the story of the passion begins. It is also Jesus’ last discourse to his disciples. The members of Matthew’s congregation who hear the gospel read to them sense the growing tension. They also have just heard (24:30–31) about the coming of Jesus, and they may wonder what will happen when he comes in glory with the angels. Now they are about to learn. And they learn that what will happen is judgment. It is a straightforward conversation between the king and those on whom he pronounces judgment.
It simply consists of two dialogues that explain the judgment that already has taken place. In the first conversation, the Son of Man/King explains to the “blessed of my Father” why they are the elect. He mentions three pairs of deeds – six in all – that they have done. These righteous ones respond, asking when they did those things. In the rest of the text, which we did not read, the same thing happens, in reverse, with those who are cursed. Why do you suppose Jesus/Matthew says essentially the same thing four times in the course of 11 verses? He wants to be sure that even someone as slow as I am gets the point. And the point is: When I stand before God, I am what I do. Or, in this case, what I have done.
So what about those six acts of charity according to which people are divided into three camps? Last year One Great Hour of Sharing focused on one pair of them, welcoming the stranger and clothing the naked. This year I’m looking at the most basic needs of all: Then the righteous will answer and say to him: “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or thirsty and give you to drink?”
The people who have been listening to Matthew’s gospel story, if they have been paying attention, know Jesus hungered when he saw the fig tree and his disciples plucked grain for the group to eat. But now they are confronted with the surprising news that the risen Jesus still experiences hunger and thirst. His promise that he will be with us until the end of the age is indeed a comfort. But it is more than that, for now we learn he is present, not only in strength and healing, but also in weakness, in hunger and in thirst. He is present not only in the word of grace that sustains us but also in people for whom hunger and thirst may be the only signs of his presence.
And it is a presence that confronts us with the issue of our salvation. It is a presence that led John Chrysostom, the fourth century Antiochian preacher, to proclaim in the name of Christ: “Then I suffered bitter need for you, I endure it even now for you in order to move you to compassion. … On the cross I suffered thirst for you; now I thirst in the person of the poor, in order to move you to love for the sake of your own salvation.”
Thirst, I suspect, is worse than hunger. Perhaps that is why the One Great Hour of Sharing theme slices the text even more thinly to focus this year on “when was it that we saw you thirsty…” Typically, people who fast still need to drink water. Of course, too much water can also be a problem. But right now I’m remembering the people whose lives are damaged because they do not have enough water – good, clean, healthy water. Think Darfur or remember those in New Orleans that were crying out for good clean water. But then I’m also thinking it is not enough for me to think about them. Now I know I am expected to do something.
Furthermore, I am expected to do something that is in my best interest. This reference to people who are hungry and thirsty reminds me that early in his gospel story, Jesus/Matthew blesses people “who hunger and thirst for righteousness” with the promise “they shall be satisfied.” Now as the gospel story nears its end, it is these same “righteous” people who give food and drink to people who are hungry and thirsty. It turns out that righteousness, doing the will of God, is not a burden to be borne or a law to be obeyed; it is a way to satisfy my own hunger and thirst. Let me say that again. It turns out that righteousness, doing the will of God, is not a burden to be borne or a law to be obeyed; it is a way to satisfy my own hunger and thirst. May we all become behaviorists for the Gospel.
This sermon was written by using major portions of
Late Night Thoughts on Preaching on Matthew 25:37
by James E. Crouch that was posted on the Week of Compassion Web site.
James E. Crouch is a retired Disciples minister and a former New Testament professor living in southwest Virginia. He currently is translating the multi-volume Matthew commentary by Ulrich Luz for the Hermeneia commentary series.