Additional Purpose for the Blog

Obviously, this last quarter was too busy, since I didn’t have a chance to update this thing at all, and it’s not from lack of subject matter!  So, starting anew, and will, of necessity, be updating this at least weekly, focusing on the less detailed personal issues of church matters, and more on any research, topical exploration or church-related contemplation that probably shouldn’t go on the Church Blog, mostly because I go into details that most people couldn’t care less about.  But it’s fun for me.

So, I’ve updated the Rule of Life tab, as it now contains a typical weekly schedule for me.  Don’t faint – I have actually managed to take Saturdays off, and now have a day for chores!  I’m still working the necessary 50 hours a week, but have got things scheduled for Church as well.  I actually think this will serve me well for both the diaconal period and once I’m ordained a priest.

So, topics I need to write about (but not today):  the ordination, updates on progress of workshop planning, contemplation of how to help someone accept change as a good thing, answering the other questions posed during my Liturgics class, and any other social awareness thing that strikes my fancy to write about that actually incorporates the church.  Social commentary of frustration with society goes on another blog. 🙂

For this time period of the transitional diaconate, I will most likely put comparative religious commentary on Live Journal.  (Yes, I have too many blogs.)

So, that’s the goal for at least the next six months.  Suggestions are welcome, as is commentary.  We need to invent a good debating blog…  something to contemplate for the future. 🙂


Language fun

So I’m doing my final paper in liturgics class.  I ran into a funny translation matrix when using Google Translate for the New Zealand name of their Book of Common Prayer.

He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa – translates to “An Anglican Anglican New Zealand.”

He Karakia Mihinare – translates to “An Anglican Catholic.”

He Karakia – translates to “A Catholic.”

He Mihinare o Aotearoa – translates to “An Anglican of New Zealand.”

He Karakia o Aotearoa – translates to “A New Zealand Catholic.”

Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa – translates to “British Anglican Church.”

Karakia Mihinare – translates to “Greek Orthodox.”

Karakia – translates to “Religion.”

Mihinare – translates to “English.”

This was too funny to just ignore how words are put together to mean different things.  If you go to the Maori dictionary, Karakia is a verb to recite chants, rituals and prayers.  Mihinare is an Anglican.  O Aotearoa is of New Zealand.  He without a line over it is the article An.  So more accurately, “He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa” would be something along the line of Anglican Prayers of New Zealand.

Why did I write this out here?  Because while fascinating, the paper I am to write is only 5 pages, and this really doesn’t help with comparing and contrasting the Books of Common Prayer of the United States and New Zealand. 🙂  Ignore me – I’m easily amused.

Good Advice

So, I recently posted on Facebook the following:

“We have to get over the uncomfortability of things being messy.” – Masud Olufani on racial discussions

“Tension is not something we are afraid of in Judaism… It propels us forward.” Mayim Bialik on women in spiritual leadership.

These two statements got my attention this week – it’s something that the “PC” crowd needs to understand. Changing terms, eliminating uncomfortable discussion topics, etc. are not going to help change the world. Love, tactful expression, willingness to *listen* and *empathize* are what we need to stop being stuck where we are and begin moving forward.

One other statement got my attention, by a lady named Maya Mansour:  “… really getting to know someone and engaging with people past their visual identities.”  That is a completely awesome phrase.

I’ve always said that to eliminate a prejudice, you have to get to know individuals, because prejudice is not against an individual.  It’s a concept against a bias against a “visual identity”.  What we look like means nothing to who we are.  Now you will likely find that there are wonderful people in every “category” of visual identity, and you’ll likely find some real jerks, too.  People are people.

Part of the concept of active listening is actually hearing what people are saying, and not what your own bias is hearing them say.  There’s the typical example of “You look nice today”, which can be taken plainly, that your appearance is pleasant; it can be taken with an ear toward criticism (say for instance, you grew up with a critical parent and are used to hearing the criticism underlying everything they say) – “well, you look nice today, but you looked like crap yesterday”; it can be taken with an ear of insecurity – “you look nice today – finally put a bit more effort into your appearance, huh?”

When we’re dealing with issues of prejudice, be that regarding skin color, economic class, gender, religion, physical or mental handicap, age, nationality or any number of other prejudices out there – those listening skills are crucial, for both parties.  I’m not one who believes prejudice and bias only go one way.  I do believe that every aspect of your self-identity has an influence on how you hear things, no matter what someone else might intend to say.

But I think the above speakers are absolutely correct that we can only move forward if we are willing to sit in tension, be uncomfortable, and move forward in love with the idea of healing past hurts.


What is the difference between transubstantiation and real presence in the Eucharist?

In reading Aquinas, he seems to say that the bread and wine are representative of the remembrance of the act performed by Christ, but that when received, they are transformed into the substance of Christ’s body and blood (and given what we know about the nature of energy and matter, that makes sense) which feeds our own spirits.  That we are not able to perceive the difference through our own senses makes no difference to the fact that they are transformed.

In reading Newman (Tract 90), he rejects the concept that the bread and wine are transformed, but believes that through remembrance, Christ is present with us in the act of Eucharist, and His real presence is what feeds us.  He emphasizes that “locality” is in terms of God’s understanding and not human understanding.

I don’t think that Newman’s opinion negates Aquinas, but then I don’t see the Eucharist as merely a “symbol” either.  I don’t tend to be one to limit God’s abilities.

Sacraments are held as outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace given by Christ.

Part of the question, I think, has to do with whether the bread and wine are transformed prior to ingestion by the recipient, or whether that is an individual transformation that takes place in the heart of the receiver.  There are those who feel the nature of the priest is of primary importance in this change, and others who feel that it is more despite the nature of the priest, and because of the belief of the receiver.

Adding on 3/6/18:

I found the excellent explanation on transubstantiation my professor gave:  We have substance and we have accidents. Accidents are all the qualities of the thing that are part of it but aren’t totally necessary. Substance is like the thing’s “-ness”. Kind of like adjectives vs nouns.

Take this chair. (grabs chair) We can see that this chair is made out of metal, plastic, cloth, has different colors, etc. But it’s a chair, right? (right).

Take this other chair. (grabs other, different-looking chair) It’s made of wood, different colors, has a desk attached to it, etc. It’s WAY different than the first chair, but we still know that both of them are chairs. We have this idea in our minds of what a chair is, we have this understanding of “chair-ness” that we agree on, that exists, but isn’t totally dependent on what’s in front of us. That “Chair-ness” is the substance, the materials are the accidents.

In the Eucharist, we have substance and we have accidents. The accidents are the hosts and the wine mixed with a little water. The mystery of the Eucharist is that the accidents don’t change, but the substance does. It may have all the appearances of bread and wine, but it’s “breadness” and “wineness” are gone, replaced with “Jesus-ness.” And we can’t say it’s both bread and Jesus, because there’s no “bread-ness” left. The “-ness” is what we all agree actually makes the thing a thing, not the accidents.

People of the Prayer Book

This week, our professor provided us with two questions, only one of which had to be answered.  Because of how things are assigned, one person does the “lead” post, and everyone else responds to what they’ve written.  The lead poster has 500 words to answer; the follow up responses are limited to 300 words.  I absolutely adored the first question this week, but the concept of answering it in 500 words was laughable.  The lead poster apparently agreed and answered the other one, but I wanted to get into the first question in a space where there’s room to respond.

The question(s) is:  Wasn’t it wonderful to read in Alexander how Cranmer gave us the ‘classic shape’ of the Prayer Book which has lasted for over 450 years? Doesn’t it make you proud to be an Anglican? Back in the day the Daily Offices, the Litany, the Eucharist, the Lectionary and the Psalter were all in regular use in Anglican Prayer Books all over the world. However, pull any ’79 Prayer Book out of a pew rack today and you will see a very slender section of soiled pages in the 300’s which, for the most part, are the only pages being used today (I’m not sure of the pagination in other Prayer Books, but I am confident that the phenomenon is the same). This, of course, is the side effect of the successes of the move to weekly Eucharist and the change to the Revised Common Lectionary. But can we really call ourselves Christians of the Prayer Book tradition when so little of the Prayer Book is actually in use? This difficulty raises two questions in my mind:
a.  Is there really a future for the Book of Common Prayer?
b.  Do the contents of the Book of Common Prayer need to be revised so that the Prayer Book we have is filled with material we actually use?
Please support your answers and if you reply ‘yes’ to question B, then please provide your proposed additions and deletions.

There are several assumptions in the question, particularly as made by someone in a large church, but without a parish of his own.  As a college professor at two colleges, Fr. Moroney makes himself available as a “supply” clergy – to help out smaller parishes without clergy, or to substitute for an absent or ill priest – celebrating the Eucharist Mass on Sundays.  In the instance of my church, our most common service is actually Morning Prayer, and we switch between Rite I and Rite II regularly.  Additionally, we have been trying out different services at different times of the week, to see if we can serve the community with a non-Sunday service, using the Compline, Evening Prayer, and even the Noonday Prayer rite.  When you are without a priest, you tend to use more of the Prayer Book, I think, but interestingly, not those sections of the Eucharist service, because that can only be done with a priest.

The other thing is that we tend to make things easier for the average parishioner anymore.  Our Sunday bulletin contains not only the Ordo (order of service), but also puts the responsive Psalm in, as well as the three Biblical lessons, and the version of the Prayers of the People (there are 6 forms) being used that day.  It essentially ensures that if the congregation follows from the beginning of the particular service being done, the only other things they will have to have are the bulletin and the hymnal, and they won’t have to be flipping pages around the book to get everything done in the service.  It’s a convenience, but it doesn’t mean that those sections are ignored.

Other portions of the Prayer Book are not meant for daily, or even weekly use – services for baptism, marriage, ordination, etc. – these are all important within the life of the church, and having them in a place easily accessed and referenced is wonderful, but those pages are not going to be referenced all the time.  The Prayer Book is not just a book for the organization of services, but of the Church year itself, as well as being a book from which we can teach about the particular methods we use in the practice of our faith.  As someone currently working on getting a new believer baptized, I am grateful for all the book contains.

As with every church, certain portions of the Bible are emphasized.  For instance, Pentecostals emphasize the Pentecost, speaking in the Spirit, and the Great Commission.  Then on another end of the spectrum, I know of a church that took a verse about serpents, and they have snakes that attend their services regularly.  I can’t talk – we have a dog in regular attendance at ours.  However, the Prayer Book itself is absolutely rich with Biblical passages, and the majority of our services come straight from the Bible.  It’s just organized in the fashion we choose to worship in.  So, while we still need a Bible for the lessons (generally printed in the bulletin, so you don’t have to have a Bible if you don’t want to), everything in the Prayer Book is based on Biblical passages.

Because we are a people who enjoy tradition, I think the Book of Common Prayer will continue to be in use and useful for a long time to come.  There are, of course, arguments over specific wording to be made, but I think the contents are quite good.  I wouldn’t want to see the Eucharist service separated out into its own little booklet, because I think people would miss the opportunity to discover the gems of the Prayer Book that are not often used, but can be used individually, or corporally, as needed or wanted.

Apostolic Tradition

So, homiletics is complete (my first B – not happy).  The classes now focus on liturgics and church music, both of which are completely fascinating.  In the process of reading about the apostolic tradition, it occurs to me – and isn’t part of the assignment on which I only have a maximum of 300 words to write) that Christ had 12 apostles.  There were many schools of thought from the time Christ spent here, each focusing on different things.  He left us the Holy Spirit to guide us, and yet, the Church (capitalized as the Catholic Church kind of took over the western world for quite a long period of time) focused on a monepiscopate (On The Apostolic Tradition, 2001, Stewart-Sykes), a singular source from which over a thousand years of Church history, liturgy and tradition followed.

Why did we do that?  I think it eventually got straightened out by Luther and Calvin and the rest of the Reformers, but why would we narrow things down to one path, when Christ left us with 12, each going to different places, cultures, having traditions of their own, which would obviously affect the way in which people worshiped.  I think Paul had a lot to do with how things were organized.  And the fact that he did so obviously helped the spread of Christianity, but what would Christianity look like if he hadn’t reigned in practices he thought shouldn’t be included in the religion?  Would we now be more or less unified than we currently are?

I think it would be safe to say that Christ brought us a way of life, but Paul brought us a religion.  The question is, does the religion reflect the way of life?

Blessed Christmas

Through the written word, and the spoken word, may we know your Living Word, Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen

St. Thomas Aquinas gave me a different perspective on the Christmas story this year.  According to Jerome and Origen, Joseph was not at all suspicious that Mary had committed adultery. He knew Mary’s purity and had read in Isaiah, Chapters 7 and 11 that a virgin would conceive:  “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.”  He had also known that Mary, like himself, had descended from David. Hence, it was easier for him to believe that the prophecy had been fulfilled in her than that she had fornicated with another.

In looking at the story in Matthew, we know that “an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.'”  A man who believed he’d been cheated on wouldn’t be afraid – he’d be angry.  And so, considering himself unfit to live together with such holiness, he wanted to put her away, divorce her, secretly.  He thought himself unworthy.

We know from today’s gospel in Luke that Joseph followed the angel’s advice, and agreed to be a dad to a child whose heavenly Father couldn’t participate in the physical life of His child.  Joseph and Mary, as husband and wife, traveled to be registered in the census.  To keep things easier in the day of the census without computers, one was obliged to travel back to the town of their family, where the ancestral records were kept.

Now we generally skip reading the genealogies in Luke, Chapter 3:23-38 and Matthew, Chapter 1 for several reasons, but you’ve seen them – listing the names of people you either don’t recognize or may have the barest familiarity with is a bit dull; the names are difficult for modern tongues to pronounce; and if you compare the two sections, there are differences, which have confounded scholars for centuries.  Some believe Luke was providing the genealogy of Mary rather than Joseph, but Luke begins the list with Joseph, so there’s still the conflict.

Many of you know that my dad was hugely into genealogy, having traced his paternal line back to 9th century France.  His work on our family’s genealogy was renowned, to the point that he was the genealogist for the Sons of the American Revolution in Florida.  Of course, as with my mother’s habit of getting me involved with her projects, Dad did too, emailing me bits and pieces of information, and asking me to find more evidence, books online, or lending libraries which had material and might be willing to send particular books to him, or if I was very lucky, one that would send him just the pages he needed.

When conflict arose in a person’s genealogy, dad would look at the circumstances and people surrounding the person in question.  So let’s do that here, but let’s go back and look at the Israelites at the time of King David.  God had provided them with law, and with judges and with prophets, but the Israelites wanted a King.  God told them that He was their king, but they were quite certain that while they worshipped God, they needed a king for the everyday and mundane of life, as well as for keeping up with the Jones – or the Philistines and Amalekites of their day.  God, through Samuel, warned them against a human king, but they would not listen.  And God knew that the consequences of these actions would lead to nothing but heartache for His chosen, but He allowed them the choice.  He first gave them Saul, and ultimately determined Saul to be unworthy.  Samuel, guided by God, set David on the throne, setting up a line of succession that one day, God, Himself, would have to fulfill.

And Isaiah told them about the darkness, the heavy yoke they were choosing, the armies that would be over them.  But as we listen to him, with our present, Christian perspective, we hear the prophecy of the one God will send, with new ears:

For a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His authority shall grow continually,
and there shall be endless peace
for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time onward and forevermore.

            This census – this genealogical master source of its time – carried utmost importance for the chosen people.  And while there is little doubt Mary was also of David’s line, it was Joseph, Jesus’ human dad, who provided the lineage trusted by so many.  He overcame his fear of being unworthy, and trusted in God’s plan, most likely praying constantly that he was doing the right thing by God’s Son, teaching Him properly, being there for the human experience Jesus came for.

Can you imagine being responsible for raising God’s son?  And in the very first instance, the place where He would be born, Joseph must have felt like a complete failure.  They were traveling, dusty, tired, sore from the trip.  Mary had gone into labor, and because of the census, all the inns, hotels, bed and breakfasts were completely booked.  Joseph was running out of time, and needed to get Mary to somewhere to lie down to deliver the Son of God.

What if one of the inn keepers had been moved differently?  Wally was an awkward and shy child who belonged to the church kids club. It was time to hand out roles for the Christmas play, but what role should the teacher give Wally? She decided on the inn-keeper. It was an important role, but required Wally only to shake his head and say one line “Sorry, we’ve no room.” Wally grinned from ear to ear when he learned of his important role and he couldn’t wait for the big night.

It arrived soon enough, and the play was proceeding according to plan. Mary and Joseph had traveled to Bethlehem and come to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked on the door and it opened to Wally. “Please sir, do you have a room we could take?” asked Joseph. Wally shook his head and replied. “I’m sorry, we’ve no room”.

Now the boy playing Joseph was a particularly precocious child, and while the script called for he and Mary to turn away at this point, Joseph decided to exercise some dramatic license. “But sir” he said to the innkeeper, “My wife is about to have her baby and we need somewhere to stay. Couldn’t you find us a room?” Wally’s face went white – this was not planned for! – and he paused for a moment before repeating his line. “I’m sorry, we’ve no room.”

“But sir” replied Joseph, “We’ve traveled such a long way and we’ve nowhere else to go and my wife is very tired. Surely you can find us somewhere.” Wally bowed his head, shook it sadly and said, “I’m sorry, we’ve no room.” Forlornly Joseph and Mary started walking away. Wally, now fully into his role, felt shamed and saddened. A tear trickled down his cheek. Then his voice was heard calling out. “Wait! Please come back. You can have my room.”

It may not have been according to script, but at that moment Wally gave perfect expression to the Christmas story.  But maybe God had other plans for Mary, Joseph and His Son – maybe He wanted them somewhere accessible to the shepherds, where young and old alike could come as His star provided the birth announcement, and the angels sang, inviting all to visit the new family.  Joseph and Mary found room at the stable, and the Baby found his first bed in a manger.  The King had arrived, and yet, He would be nothing like what the Israelites expected.

From their perspective, they assumed that the mien and mantle of a heavenly king would be the same as one from a human king.  They had forgotten the perspective Isaiah had given them:  “Thus says the Lord: Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool”.  Footstools aren’t generally thought of as being fancy, but rather utilitarian.  So for the Son of God, the rightful heir of King David to lay in a manger, people should have known to anticipate something completely contrary to what they were expecting.

History will judge us by our legacy.  From the perspective of history, no other individual has had the impact on the world that Christ had.  And whatever part Joseph played in shaping the human child Jesus became, he, also, had an impact on that history of the world.

When we, too, are afraid that we are not worthy of whatever God is calling us to, let’s remember that that’s not up to us.  From God’s perspective, He has already judged us worthy, because He sent us His Son to redeem us.

Lord’s Prayer

Well, by now, you’ve probably read something in the news that the Pope wants to change the wording in the Lord’s Prayer.

On the one hand, people I know are saying, didn’t Christ give us that prayer?  Doesn’t He outrank the Pope?

On the other, there’s an interesting article written a few years ago that brings up that Christ’s language was Aramaic, which was then translated into Greek, which then went into Latin, and the vulgar languages.  According to documents from the Dead Sea Scrolls, there might be a point to this.  It indicates that a more accurate translation of “And lead me not into temptation” might be “Don’t allow me to enter into wrong thinking or testings”, thereby putting the onus of temptation on man, and not on God.

So, thoughts?

(Boy do I miss my dad at times like this.)

Writing a Sermon

It’s really rather funny, as I read all of these texts and articles and books on how to write a sermon.  The most useful about the process, for me, thus far has been Eugene Lowry’s The Homiletical Plot.  Not because I particularly like his type of sermon (narrative), but rather because he goes through the process of how one gets from a sermonic idea to writing a sermon.  And I laugh, because I have a very particular process.

First, I read the lessons from the liturgical calendar of the Episcopal Church.  We’ll be beginning Year B with this coming Sunday, starting the year with Advent.  In this way, we work our way through the Bible every 3 years.  The lessons and psalms are matched, so we generally have an Old Testament reading, a Psalm, a New Testament reading, and a Gospel reading.  So, I start with the readings.  If there is a passage I’m unfamiliar with, or want to get better insight, I take a look at some exegesis of that passage – what’s the literary style, the historical context, the cultural context, the specific words being used, and where else within the Bible do some of those specific words appear?

Generally, I’ll let all that percolate for a day or two, and then, depending on the time of year, I’ll do one of two things:  take a shower (as opposed to a bath, where I can take a book or writing materials), or mow the lawn.  Neither of these, of course, are conducive to being able to write anything down – my normal method of figuring out what I’m thinking.  It causes my mind to play with ideas, without writing them down, until I finally reach the “Aha!” moment, where it all comes together, and I can go, sit and write down the sermon.

Personally, I like to think that my conversations with God, along with inspiration from the Holy Spirit comes into play here, but either way, those are the two areas where those conversations are most likely to occur in such a way as to inspire the sermon.

My method works for me.  I’m quite certain that others like the outlining, crafting, cut/paste method used by so many preachers until they have put together a sermon word by painful word.  Likely, they are much more talented than myself.  But that’s okay.  As long as I don’t bore myself to tears, the congregation should be at least marginally pleased, or irritated, or thoughtful, or fired up, etc.

Christ the King Sunday

One of the saddest passages I’ve ever seen is today’s Gospel.  Many look at it as part of the apocalyptic literature, telling of an end-time judgment, but it’s put here in Matthew’s Gospel among other parables about judgment for a reason.  It’s certainly a parable, by dictionary definition, for it is a short allegorical story designed to illustrate or teach some truth, religious principle, or moral lesson, and it’s a statement or comment that conveys a meaning indirectly by the use of comparison or analogy.

But what makes it sad is Christ’s description to both the sheep and the goats.  Looking at what He said to the sheep:  “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”

On the one hand, the blessed, the sheep, asked “when” they had done all these things – and yet, they didn’t recognize God within the people they helped.  They helped because they were good people, and like the Samaritan, recognized their neighbor.  They were judged worthy, to take their inheritance, the kingdom prepared for them since the creation of the world.

On the other hand, the cursed, the goats, asked “when”.  They had done none of these things, because they didn’t recognize God within the people they passed by.  They were the Pharisee, claiming goodness, but their actions did not match their words.  They were cursed into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.

Neither group recognized God within the hearts of those in need, but one group followed the greatest commandment as instructed by Christ, and one group didn’t try to find their neighbor.

There’s a story told of a young monk asking an older monk, “Father, if God is infinitely merciful, how can he deprive anyone of his heavenly kingdom?” The older monk answered, “Why do you keep turning your head from side to side?” The younger monk replied, “Because the sun keeps hitting me right in the eye and just won’t leave me in peace.” “Then you’ve answered your own question,” the older monk laughed. “God doesn’t deprive anyone of his heavenly kingdom. Some simply cannot bear the light, any more than you can bear the light of the sun.”

So let’s see if we can find our sunglasses, and look at this passage in another way.  We know from the last few weeks of these judgment parables, that everyone is waiting for Christ’s return.  With this parable, we know that Christ will return as King to sit in judgment upon those who have been waiting.  Let’s examine our two groups again – the blessed and the cursed.  Based on the criteria Christ sets out in this parable, the judgment is based upon how we have treated the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner while waiting. In this parable the community’s time of waiting is changed from a useless passage of time to a redefinition of community in the care of the neighbor, and from worry about the “when” of the coming of the Son of Man to the realization that the “when” has already taken place in the face of the needy.

And here is the answer to whether we are ready when the bridegroom comes, when the master returns.  Christ has made us aware of the least of us among society.  He described the values and practices of those who participate in the Kingdom of Heaven in the Beatitudes.  He tells us:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.  Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.  Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.  Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

And Christ has told us what to do.  Not only has he given us the Great Commandment, he gave us this parable, which clearly describes the “least of these”, not once, not twice, but four times within the same parable!  And still, we have difficulty in walking our Christian talk.

A little girl once asked, “If God is inside of me and is so big, why doesn’t he break through?”  Why doesn’t the grace and love of God break through in the way we speak, in how we act, in the many times we come in contact with others.  God has chosen to work in and through us who are called to be a part of the Body of Christ.  But he gave us free will as well.  We can choose to let God act through us, to be His hands, His voice, to treat the least of our society as we would treat Christ.

The phrase “the least, the lost, and the last” has often been used in sermons that talk about those we should be taking care of.  That’s a pretty amorphous description though.  So, if we want to be like the sheep, care for those Christ has told us to care for, for as He said, as we have done to the least of these, so have we done to Him – where will we find the least?

And with that one question, we have made ourselves goats.  We are looking for Christ, in order to treat Him well.  We’re not looking to fulfill the Commandment, but rather trying to find the “when” did we see Him and not care for Him.

So is the answer that we try to see God in every person we meet?  Do we try to be a good neighbor?  Or do we, like the little girl suggests, let God break through and act through us?  Do we recognize the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth, right now?

The sheep would seem to have little interest in relationships dictated by the terms of “social justice” or “evangelism,” which so often turn people into objects and abstractions. The relationships the sheep pursue, in contrast, locate them right in the middle of the least ones themselves, where the King Himself is.  For these, the Son of Man is not still coming. He is already here.

And when Christ the King comes to sit in judgment, will you be among the sheep, or among the goats?