Jesus will one day return to this planet in the same manner as He departed, but it will be in a different capacity. His mission will be different. He came initially to reveal the Father and give men new hearts, ones that “by nature” had the capacity, as Adam had, to know God spirit to spirit. He did this by overthrowing sin and death, the enemy’s agents who had facilitated the original separation between God and man. The first time Jesus came as the Savior. This passage is referring to a time when time has run out and He has returned as the Judge. We have come to think of this time as the “great” and “terrible” day of the Lord.

To be honest, I have never dwelt long or hard on this passage. That is not because it is hard to understand. The problem is that, on the contrary, it is very straightforward and I am troubled by its content. As the Judge, Jesus will be separating the sheep from the goats. Here is the troubling part: the criteria, at least in this passage, will not be whether or not I have asked Jesus into my heart and attended church. The criteria will be how I related to a type of person that Jesus refers to as “the least of these,” people with whom Jesus is so closely identified that, however I treat them—that is exactly how I treat him.

I do not want to avoid this passage. I do not want to read it, searching for loopholes that might exempt me. The consequence of succeeding in that would only serve to make The Day of the Lord terrible for me and not great. No, I do not want to hear Him say, “Depart from Me, accursed one, into the fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels.”

Here are the identifying marks of the least of these. They are hungry and thirsty. They are imprisoned, naked and strange. Christ is one—we are told—with these people. He calls them His brothers. How we treat them is how we treat Him. It is not enough that we just feel compassion for these downtrodden ones. Our compassion must translate into action in order to avoid being a doomed goat. Will attending church and writing a few checks for their care suffice?

Most of the time, I can share how a biblical truth has intercepted my heart and effected some transformation. This morning, I’m not really trying to teach. I’m just making confession and asking God to search my heart for any deceit that may be there by virtue of living indifferently to or insulated from the least of these, and consequently, from Him.

Are the least of these the same as “the poor” that Jesus tells us will always be with us? If so, they represent to many of us (who have tried to show some compassion in Jesus’ name) a black hole whose core of gravity, with its insatiable appetite, would quickly consume us as well any practical compassion we might show. We know intuitively that there are not enough of us to make an appreciable difference. Peering down into the dark swirling nightmare of poverty is intimidating, so sufficiently so that most of us have determined to go nowhere even near the precipice, lest our compassion be awakened and we find ourselves being drawn in to something from which we cannot escape.

An acquaintance of mine is a former OKC prosecutor and chairman of the Committee overseeing Oklahoma’s Department of Human Services. He knows as well as anyone the effects of poverty and its insatiable appetite. He and every employee in that agency know that there are not enough dollars in the state budget to pour into the least of these to fix up their lives. Yet, God has left the least of these on his heart and given him a starting place in approaching the abyss. God gave him a simple plan and a simple prayer (about the size of mustard seeds).

The simple plan involves gathering the stakeholders together who have a vested interest in the least of these, leaders in government and the Church to assemble and explore together how partnerships can be formed and resources pooled in showing compassion for them. The simple prayer was “God, please break my heart with the things that break Your heart in regards to my city.” With this simple plan and prayer they intend to draw near to the edge and peer together into this intimidating black hole, asking God to provide His kingdom wisdom and resources.

Father, we do not want to walk past You when we encounter You as the needy stranger who is either spiritually or physically hungry and thirsty. Open our eyes and show us the least of these to whom we are to give ourselves. When we meet You face to face, we want it to be a “great” day. We desire to hear You say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” So we pray, break our hearts Lord with the things that break Yours. Amen.

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