Matthew 25:31-46
It is interesting to note that it was an Italian Jewish humanitarian, Sir Moses Montefiore (1784-1885), who paid this parable the greatest compliment. He called it “the noblest passage in the gospel.” He went on to ask, “How many deeds of charity and love, how many acts of sacrifice and devotion have been accomplished in the last 1,800 years by the remembrance of these words.”
This parable has become so woven into our religious thought that it has become the very center of Christian faith and practice. To us it lays down a principle of judgment that has become commonplace; but to the Jews who heard it for the first time, it must have been a surprising eye-opener.
The Jew expected to be judged on two standards. First, had he or had he not kept the law? If he had carried out all the regulations of the law and had observed the Ten Commandments he felt completely safe. Second, he expected preferential treatment because he was a Jew. He was quite sure that God would judge other nations with one standard and the Jews with another; and that a man, just because he was a Jew, would be to all intents and purposes exempt from judgment altogether. And now the listening crowds were presented with this completely new standard of judgment – that everything depended on our reaction to the needs of others.
This parable is packed with truth for life and living. We should note that in every case cited the help given is in simple things. So often, we ask ourselves, “What can I do for others?” and because we cannot do big things, we end up doing nothing. But one of the points of this parable lies in the fact that in every case quoted the help given is the kind of help any person can give.
This was nothing new in the teaching of Jesus. He had said the same before. “Whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ, will by no means lose his reward” (Mark 9:41). “Whoever gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he shall not lose his reward” (Matthew 10:42).
Mabel Shaw, a missionary to Africa of an earlier generation, told this story to the little Bantu children about giving a cup of water in the name of the Chief, as they had learned to call Jesus. In a hot country, a cup of water can be beyond price. Not long after she told the children this story, a string of porters came up the village road, obviously exhausted by the heat. These men were of another tribe and there had been a history of hostility between the two tribes. All of a sudden a parade of her little children with water pots on their heads approached these men. The children were a little apprehensive, but were determined to carry out what they had learned. They came up to the porters and knelt down holding up the water pots, saying, “We are the Chief’s children and we offer you a drink.” The astonished porters knelt in return, accepted and drank the water. The little children ran back to Mabel Shaw, saying, “We have given a thirsty man a drink in the name of the Chief.” In any other circumstances, the porters would have been ignored, but Christianity bridged the gulf. The simple act of the Bantu babies did more to make Christianity real than any number of sermons.
Long ago, the prophet Mohammed asked rhetorically, “What is charity?” and then answered, “Giving a thirsty man a drink, setting a lost one on the right road, smiling in your brother’s face – these things are charity.”
These are the kind of things that anyone can do if he will. So often because we can do nothing great we do nothing at all, but there are kindnesses which anyone can do. To do them is to walk the Christian way and in the end to win the approval of the Master.
It should be noted that the people praised in the parable never realized what they were doing. Their goodness was unconscious; their kindness, sympathy, generosity were quite spontaneous. This is so in accord with Jesus’ principle. He was critical of those who every time they did a good deed made sure everyone heard about it. He said that, when you give something, even your left hand should not know what your right hand is doing.
The Jews knew this. They had a saying that in the best kind of giving, the giver does not know to whom he is giving and the receiver does not know from whom he is receiving. There is a lovely story of an old saint who was offered a reward for all the good deeds he had done. His one request was that he might be given the power to do good things without knowing that he was doing them. And so it happened that his shadow which fell behind him brought help and healing to all.
Many people will do good if they know they are going to get something out of it, otherwise they will leave it undone. There are those who go about doing some kind of good in the hope that some day in heaven they will get it back with interest. That something may be for prestige, or some measure of thanks and fuss over them. These people are not doing good for the sake of others, but for their own sakes. According to Jesus the really good are those who do good unconsciously.
There is told the story that Oberlin, a Swiss geologist-cleric (1712-1777), was caught in a terrible snowstorm when crossing the Alps. He was rescued by another traveler; when taken to safety, he asked to know his rescuer’s name, so that even if he would not accept a reward he might still pray for him. The rescuer would not tell him. He said, “Do you know the name of the good Samaritan in the parable?” “No,” Oberlin replied, “scripture does not tell us that.” “Well,” said the rescuer, “there is no need for you to know mine.” Real goodness does not want its name mentioned. Its thrill is the thrill of seeing someone go happily on his way. They are the unnamed heroes, the unnamed good Samaritans of the world.
Looking at the condemned in this parable, we see the excuse, “If we had known…” Many people will give to some well known person in need but ignore a lesser person in similar circumstances. I have a personal problem, being a selective giver. Does it mean that it is wrong to discriminate? I believe that the parable says that within limits of common sense, it is wrong to discriminate. From the Christian viewpoint, we must risk being swindled in order to help one who deserves. Having said that, I find myself wrestling with this problem on a daily basis. Who am I to determine who is deserving of my help? God did not measure his love according to our merits; Christ died for the sinner even more than He died for the good man.
In this parable, Jesus introduced a new principle of judgment, our reaction to the needs of others. He is not so much concerned with what we did not do in following His Commandments, but rather “What did we do to ease the burdens of others?” We will be measured not as reported in the newspaper or TV or in the history books, but rather by our actions and interactions with people we meet in our daily walks of life.” Might this be said of our life when our journey here on earth ends, “He or she made life easier.”
Jesus’ principle is summed up in the sentence, “As you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.” In human life, a parent gets more pleasure when something is done for his children than something done for himself. It is the same with God. In one sense we can do nothing for God and give nothing to God, for God being God has everything but He wants our love as expressed in doing something for His sons and daughters. When we do something for a fellow human being we are doing something for God.
There is an old legend of Martin of Tours, the soldier saint. One cold winter day as he was entering a city a beggar asked him for alms. He had nothing to give him, but the beggar was blue with cold. Martin took the old soldier’s cloak he wore, cut it in two, and gave half to the beggar. That night, Martin had a dream. In it, he saw heaven and all the hosts and Jesus. Jesus was wearing the half of the soldier’s cloak. One of the angels asked, “Master, why are you wearing that old cloak?” And Jesus answered, “My servant Martin gave it to me.”