That Was Me

        The Gospel of Saint Matthew contains a parable in which Jesus lays out the bottom line of what it means to be a Christian and how our lifetime behavior will ultimately be evaluated. It is Jesus’ parable of the last judgment where Christ the King comes in glory to separate the sheep from the goats:

 “Then he will also say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, accursed ones . . . for I was hungry, and you gave me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me nothing to drink; I was a stranger, and you did not invite me in; naked, and you did not clothe me; sick, and in prison, and you did not visit me.’ Then they themselves also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’”

Matthew 25: 41-44.

            Jesus wasn’t kidding around when he said this. He meant it for the people around him; and he meant it for us. Many religions preach the Golden Rule — do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. But Jesus, Our Savior, the one we believe is God made man to redeem us, went way beyond the Golden Rule: love unconditionally, forgive unconditionally, turn your other cheek when someone strikes you, and treat every human being as if he or she were me. These are the instructions that Jesus handed down over 2,000 years of history to each and every one of us.

            And this is what makes Christianity different from every religion and every philosophy. This is what being a Christian, a disciple of Jesus, is about. It’s not just about worship; it’s not just about dogma; it’s not just concerned with  issues of  human sexuality. It’s about unconditional love and forgiveness even at the cost of one’s comfort, even at the cost of one’s personal or national pride, even at the cost of one’s life. It’s about treating the least, most vulnerable, most unlovable, most disenfranchised member of society just like we  would treat  Jesus himself.  Jesus wasn’t kidding around when he said this. His message was hard to hear back then, and it’s hard to hear today.

            The Catholic Social Teaching of our popes and our bishops has always been very strong and very clear. Christians are called to a life of charity towards the poor. But that’s not where it ends — we are called to a life of advocacy as well. We are called not just to give generously of our means but to stand up for, protect and be a voice for the poor, the vulnerable, and the disenfranchised:

“Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

            The Church calls on us to be pure of heart and deed, but it also calls on us to reject the structures of sin in our society and to promote a seamless culture of life. It’s sometimes easier to define and fixate on sin as consisting of sexual acts than to recognize the sin inherent in poverty, neglect, discrimination, racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia. It’s sometimes easier to be a vocal advocate for the unborn than to be a vocal advocate for the poor or for the residents of death row. But Jesus wasn’t kidding around; and he wasn’t just making suggestions.

            After hearing the parable of the sheep and the goats, can’t we see Jesus standing with the U.S. Catholic Bishops Conference in their opposition to a proposed law that would make it a crime to feed and shelter undocumented immigrants; and in their opposition to deportations that would break up families?   Can’t we see him  standing for a compassionate form of controlled amnesty for undocumented immigrants who have worked and paid taxes here for many years so that they could build a better life for their families? If Jesus were sick would we find him being cared for by the best nurses and physicians at Hackensack University Medical Center, New York Presbyterian, Englewood Medical Center, and Memorial Sloan Kettering; or would he be waiting in line at some charity clinic with the forty four million Americans who have no access to healthcare? Wouldn’t Jesus have stood with Pope John Paul II when he called for an end to the death penalty? Wouldn’t he support Pope Benedict XVI’s statement, which I quote, “. . .  the concept of preventive war does not appear in The Catechism of the Catholic Church.”?

            If Jesus were interviewed on the Sunday talk shows, what would he say about collateral damage, about prisoner abuse, about water boarding; how would he feel about the genocide in Darfur, about injustices in the refugee camps of the Middle East, about the Syrian government's slaughter of its own people who dissent? What would he think about members of Congress, in both parties, who have the best health benefits for themselves and their families, vote themselves regular pay raises, pass huge tax cuts for the wealthiest members of society, but can’t manage to compromise on a means to provide affordable health care to all?

            Jesus wasn’t kidding around — he calls us to a life of charity but he calls us to a life of advocacy as well.

            And, my sisters and brothers, this isn’t personal opinion, this isn’t politics — this is the teaching of our popes and bishops; this is the teaching of our Catholic Church. That fact notwithstanding, it isn’t easy. If you are like me, you struggle with these complex moral issues.

            That parable of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel — the one about the sheep and the goats — has been adapted for twenty first century American ears by Jesuit Father James Hug, president of the Center for Concern in Washington, D.C. I found it powerful when I read it.  It made me confront hypocrisy in my own life; it made me look at how I need to change my behavior. I’d like to share it with you:

“Then Christ will say to those on his left [the goats]: ‘Out of my sight . . .’ [They will ask him when was it that they treated him so badly?] . . . and he will answer them: when you turned away as my hunger turned to malnutrition and starvation, while you overate and overfed your pets . . .when you, who came here as poor immigrants, began  scapegoating  new immigrants . . . when you  stuffed your  closets with more clothes than you need . . . when you rested secure with good health insurance for your family, while fighting universal coverage and funding for public health services for we who are mired in poverty . . . when you were willing to pour out money for prisons but not for the neighborhood programs, schools and jobs that could have reduced the need for prisons . . . I truly say to you, that’s when you did it to me.”