Feast Day of Elizabeth, Princess of Hungry
November 19, 2009
Chapel of the Apostles
Sewanee, Tennessee
Tobit 12:6b-9
Matthew 25:31-40
“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these
my brothers and sisters, you did it to me....”
Her name was Sara, and this is her story.[1] I met Sara while working during Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at Saint Matt’s, a homeless shelter specializing in recovery programs for drug addiction and alcoholism. St. Matt’s was founded on this very text from our Gospel this evening. Now Sara was about 49 years old and she was recently released from prison. She was homeless, in recovery for her crack addiction, and she was a prostitute. Her face was rough, worn down by years of smoking and falling upon the hard knocks of street life. In order to get money for her addiction, she would steal her mother’s jewelry and pawn it for crack. One day she came to visit with me and told me that she still had some of her mother’s jewelry and did not know what to do with it, for she did not want it as it just lingered as a constant reminder of her past. She had virtually no money to her name and each client of St. Matt’s was required to pay $25 a week to the shelter, demonstrating their commitment towards recovery. I asked her what she thought would a good act of charity. We then discovered that the ideal thing to do would be to sell the jewelry and anonymously pay the weekly fees for some families in the shelter that were struggling mightily.
I did not see her for a few days on the property and one afternoon she popped in with a huge smile. She had done just what she said she was going to do. Not only did this act of love help her to feel good about herself, it made her feel empowered as a human being who is a beloved child of God. I saw in Sara the beginnings of her process of breaking free from the bonds of sin that enslaved her. At the end of my time at the shelter, she brought me a gift, a National Geographic magazine featuring the history of the Vatican. She paid 50 cents for it, and she was well on her way towards a holistic recovery.
Our Gospel this evening from Matthew is a scene of judgment—the separating of the sheep from the goats. To establish the context for this passage, it is preceded by three parables about preparing for the coming of the Son of Man, demanding constant watchfulness from the Matthean community of Jewish Christians. The interpretation is that there is a separate judgment upon the Jews and the Gentiles by the Messiah—which is consistent with the Jewish ideas about the judgment of Gentiles. The background for our text this evening is the judgment of Gentiles based on
their treatment of Israel.
[2] The departure for Matthew is how these new Jewish Christians of Matthew’s community accept the presence of non-Jews who were not Christian while explaining how and why they can become part of the Kingdom of God.
[3] This gets at the difficulty of interpreting these offensive texts as anti-Semitic, as Dr. Holloway suggests in his recent sermon on this very same passage.
[4]
So if we hold to this idea that when the Son of Man sits upon his throne in final judgment looking at the non-believing Gentiles and separating out who has done works of charity and mercy
directed towards us, then we diminish millions of other people who are to be sent off to eternal damnation. Holloway reminds us that this is form of “Christian absolutism” at its very core.
[5] Is this the good news that we hunger for? Was St. Matt’s shelter founded upon the direct exclusion of others? No and no. But we
must acknowledge that this is in our tradition and we
must repent of it.
So the preaching task, then, is how to apply this Gospel text in our everyday lives, teasing out the Good News. We choose the side of hospitality, to recognize God’s likeness and image in all persons, receiving every person as though we are receiving Christ himself—something that is so old in our tradition as well and can be found in St. Benedict’s
Rule. We choose to place at the center of my life the “Fount of all Being,” and nourish that presence daily with prayer, scripture, and the Eucharist. Being consumed by Christ, acts of mercy, love, and charity become our natural response. Being consumed by Christ, we do not stand for the disfigurement of poverty, hunger, and discrimination which prevails in our time and circumstance. Being consumed by Christ, we serve as the hands of the King of Kings here and now—not because it wins us points in the big book, but because we become transfigured beings by those whom we purport to help. This is what I think Jesus means when he says later in Matthew, “for you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.”
[6]
The 50 cents that Sara spent for the National Geographic was an act that transformed me—I had seen that issue before, but this time it became something very powerful, something Christ-like.
There is no coincidence that our text today falls on the feast of Elizabeth, Princess of Hungry, who modeled Christian charity and gave up her wealth to further the common good of the people of Hungry.
In this Kingdom season, which reaches its climax this Sunday being Christ the King, my prayer for us all is that we stand in our truth and acknowledge those texts in Holy Scripture that divide and pass judgment on others. The truth does indeed set us free, free to worship God without fear, holy and righteous in God’s sight, all the days of our life. Amen.
