Some weeks the theology in Pub Theology lurks in the background. Some weeks, like this one, we’re putting it front and center. So buckle up.
The Gospel of Matthew, chapters 24 and 25 to be specific, recounts a sermon (or a teaching, or a discourse, depending on what commentary you read) that Jesus presents in private to his disciples while they are sitting upon the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem, with a view of Herod’s temple. Together these chapters are called the “Little Apocalypse” because they include apocalyptic language and because Jesus warns his followers that they will suffer persecution and tribulation before the final triumph of the Kingdom of God.
We’re not getting into the weeds of apocalypse here, but there is a familiar section of chapter 25 that is at the heart of this week’s topic. We’ll quote it at length here, using the language of the New Revised Standard Version of The Bible:
34 Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35 for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” 37 Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38 And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39 And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” 40 And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” 41 Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; 42 for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” 44 Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” 45 Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” 46 And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.
This passage came to mind as I was reading an article at the web magazine Plough, titled “Christ’s Room.” In it the author, an attorney named Jeffrey Wald, describes how he and his wife have used the tiny, idiosyncratic room at the top of the stairs of the 113-year-old house in Minnesota. Over the years it has been a study and a guest room, but its primary role has been as a refuge for foster children, teen mothers, and others in need. The author puts the story in this context:
Peter Maurin preached that every church should have a house of hospitality, and every home that can should have a “Christ Room,” where the ambassadors of Jesus can be housed, fed, clothed, and offered a bit of dignity. But more importantly, where they can be Christ to us. As much as I’d like to think that I’ve been Christlike toward those who have resided in the room at the top of the stairs, the truth is they’ve shown Christ to me.
As my parish priest recently reminded me, Christ can be inconvenient. He comes to us hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, and imprisoned. In other words, he comes to us needy. And in doing so, he paradoxically reveals our own neediness, our lack of self-sufficiency, our longing for forgiveness, love, and redemption.
Matthew’s gospel reminds us of our responsibility to care for and offer hospitality to others, while Wald’s story gives us one example about how one family has done so, and met Christ in the process. So we’re going to talk about care, and hospitality in our discussion this week.
What does the passage from Matthew say to you? Do you find it comforting, or is it uncomfortable to read? How do you think you measure up, if this is what we’ll be judged by when the time comes for judgment? Thinking about your own experience, when have you been cared for, or been offered hospitality, when you weren’t expecting it? How did that feel? And let’s turn the question around. How have you cared for, or offered hospitality, to others? And to whom? Just to family and friends, or have you offered it to “the least of these,” as Jesus put it?
We’ll tackle this topic, and likely more, in our discussion this week. Join us for the conversation tomorrow evening, Tuesday Feb. 20, starting at 7pm at Casa Real in downtown Oxford.