Before I was a pastor, I ran a non-profit where I traveled around the world to write about what God was doing through the Church to heal injustice. I tried to live as deeply into the culture as possible to understand what life was really like in these places.
I lived in slums and refugee camps, etc. But one of the most impactful experiences I ever had was when I was writing about our partner ministry City Relief in New York.
To understand what life was like for the people they served, I lived homeless in Manhattan for four days, three nights. My rules were simple. I had a flip phone for emergencies but no money or food.
I spent my first night sleeping on the floor of Penn Station, and the next two nights I checked into a homeless shelter.
There’s a lot I could share about the experience, but one specific moment will stick with me for the rest of my life: When I panhandled for money.
As I said, I had no cash or cards on me, so if I wanted to eat, I had to ask for money. So I just grabbed a spot in a busy subway stairwell, and then started begging. “Sir, can you spare a dollar? Ma’am, do you have any spare change?”
I knew that this experience would be humbling. But I had no idea just how humiliating it was going to be.
People did everything they could to ignore me. Sometimes they would accidentally make eye contact, and then immediately bounce their eyes away. Most tried to pretend that I didn’t even exist.
I felt radically dehumanized in that moment. I felt the urge to yell out, “At least acknowledge me as a person!”
This went on for 30-40 minutes until eventually a young man gave me a $10 bill and said, “I hope you get through whatever you’re going through.”
At that point I left the subway, took the $10, bought a hot dog from a street vendor, and then just began weeping on the sidewalk as I ate my dinner.
I had no idea. No idea how dehumanizing such an experience would be. And I wasn’t even really homeless. I had a way out.
Nevertheless, the experience transformed my understanding of what it feels like to be forgotten. Cast aside. Ignored. And it shook me to my core because I realized in that moment just how often I had been the one doing the forgetting.
It changed forever the way I interact with people in desperate circumstances, and it radically altered the way I read Jesus’ words in Matthew 25, which is our passage for today.
Let’s get into it. Grab a Bible and turn with me to Matthew 25:31
THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS
Let’s read the whole passage, and then we’ll walk through it in a bit more detail. Just one bit of setup. This passage is essentially the last thing Jesus teaches in Matthew before the story of his crucifixion begins.
It’s the end of a section of teachings all about being ready for the Day of the Lord - the day in which the Son of Man (a.k.a. Jesus, the King), finally steps into his true authority. The day the kingdom of God is fully realized. And the question Jesus raises in these teachings is simple: Are you ready or not?
Let’s read. And buckle up, because Jesus doesn’t pull any punches here.
Matthew 25:31-46
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit upon his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered in his presence, and he will separate the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left. “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’ “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’ “Then the King will turn to those on the left and say, ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons. For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’ “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’ “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’ “And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous will go into eternal life.”
Ok. Wow. Jesus is essentially saying, “Look. Do you want to be ready for the Day of the Lord? Then pay very close attention to how you treat those on the margins of our world. The hungry, the stranger, the poor…
To start digging into this passage, let’s talk about this metaphor Jesus is using. Separating sheep and goats.
This isn’t the only time this image shows up in the Bible. The prophet Ezekiel used the same metaphor.
Ezekiel 34:17
As for you, my flock, this is what the Sovereign LORD says to his people: I will judge between one animal of the flock and another, separating the sheep from the goats…
We don’t know why ancient shepherds would have needed to separate sheep and goats, but clearly this is a thing people did.
It’s helpful to remember, though, that in the 1st century, sheep were not as white and fluffy as we picture today. They were brown. In fact, if a flock was mixed, it would take a trained eye to be able to distinguish between sheep and goats.
Which I think is an important part of this metaphor. Because this idea of mixing and then separating the righteous from the wicked is a common theme throughout the gospel of Matthew.
For example, in other places Jesus talks about letting wheat and weeds grow up together before they are ultimately separated at the harvest. The wheat to be used and the weeds to be burned.
He talks about unfruitful trees being chopped down and separated from the fruitful ones. But you never know which will be which until harvest time.
Jesus tells stories of faithful servants being separated from unfaithful ones. About foolish maidens being left behind by the wedding party because they didn’t prepare enough lamp oil like the wise ones did.
Again and again, Jesus paints the picture that right now, in this world we’re living in, it can sometimes be hard for us to tell the wicked and righteous apart. It’s what Maron talked about last week. The most righteous-appearing religious leaders of Israel who are actually just white-washed tombs.
Despite this present obscurity, however, Jesus makes one thing abundantly clear. And this is the whole message of Matthew 25:
When it comes time for the righteous and the wicked to be separated, the chief shepherd (a.k.a. the Son of Man, the King) will know the difference.
Again, the question for us as disciples is clear: Are we ready for that to happen? Do we know what side of the equation we’ll be on?
THE LITTLEST ONES
Ok, so how do we know? How do we know if we’re ready?
Well, here’s where Matthew 25 gets really provocative. Because normally when we think about the judgment of God, we think in terms of believing the right things. Being in the right religion or checking all the right spiritual boxes.
But here Jesus makes it not about belief, but about behavior. Look again with me at verse 35.
Matthew 25:35
I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home.
Maybe you’ve heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. It basically describes what we need to be fully human. From fundamental needs like food, water, and shelter at the bottom, all the way up to things like self-actualization.
The point is, what Jesus is describing in verse 35 are basic human needs - the bottom of the pyramid - which today we often take for granted.
In the ancient world, though, none of them were guarantees. Getting enough calories to make it to tomorrow or finding clean drinking water was not easy. And if you were a traveler or a foreigner or a refugee, even finding a dry place to sleep was difficult.
He goes on in verse 36.
Matthew 25:36
I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.
Clothing and medical care were expensive in the ancient world, and were often out of reach for many.
And again, there were no such thing as human rights in the first century. If you went to prison - your guards had no responsibility to feed or clothe you. You had to rely on the generosity of friends and family to survive.
The point is, Jesus is describing here those at the bottom rung of society’s ladder. Those holding on for dear life at the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.
The people he calls in verse 40,
Matthew 25:40
…the least of these my brothers and sisters…
If you’ve heard some of my recent messages in this series, you know the word Jesus usually uses to describe the people forgotten by the world is:
μικρός mikros - little, small, low in dignity
The big twist, of course, is that in Jesus’ kingdom, the little ones - the mikros - are actually the ones who are megas - great.
Well, in verse 40 Jesus is using a word even stronger than mikros. It’s the word elachistos which is the superlative of mikros. Smallest. Littlest. The least in dignity. That’s who he’s describing: the hungry, the sick, the stranger…
Why are they the littlest? Why are they the least? Because they are the ones most likely to be forgotten and cast aside.
When I was panhandling in Manhattan, I felt mikros. I felt about one inch tall. In my need - artificial though it was - I became a person for others to avoid. To not even make eye contact with.
I know many of you have faced your own desperate circumstances. You’ve been cast aside by others.
It is human nature to avoid those facing desperate circumstances, because if we engage then we might have to do something about it. Right? Far easier to just cast them aside and pretend they don’t exist.
There’s just one problem with that strategy: According to Jesus, when we ignore or cast aside the least in our world, we may very well be ignoring the King himself. And that’s not a good look when it comes time for that same King to judge the world.
God cares deeply for the least of these and if we want to be ready for his kingdom rule, then we must care as well.
Now, one quick aside at this point. I know it can be easy to think, “Oh, Jesus. He’s just a big softy. Surely he’s just being extreme here, right? We’re supposed to be nice and help out people when we can, but it’s not like God cares that much about this stuff. Does he?”
Well, I hate to break it to you, but Jesus is hardly the first person in the Bible concerned about those at the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.
In fact, the Old Testament is full of passages describing God’s concern for the least of these. Specifically for a trio of vulnerable people: orphans, widows, and foreigners… Those three words show up together over 50 times in the Hebrew Bible.
Why? Because these were the groups in the ancient world most likely to find themselves unable to meet even their most basic needs. And in God’s economy, they are exactly the people he’s most concerned about. Just one example from the law of Moses in Deuteronomy:
Deuteronomy 10:18-19
[The LORD] ensures that orphans and widows receive justice. He shows love to the foreigners living among you and gives them food and clothing. So you, too, must show love to foreigners…
My point is, when we come to Matthew 25, Jesus isn’t just making up ways to be nice to people. He’s drawing from a rich biblical tradition about what justice for the marginalized is meant to look like among the people of God.
Which is why the biggest shock of this whole passage probably shouldn’t be much of a shock at all. When God sets the world right again - on the day of the Lord - he is going to judge the world based on how well we cared for what he cares about.
Are you ready or not? Are you a sheep or are you a goat? I don’t know of a single passage in Matthew more sobering than this one.
Because if my experience panhandling (briefly!) in New York City taught me anything, it’s just how often I have been the one walking by. How often I have quickly looked away from the face of desperation. How often I have ignored the lost and last and least - the mikros of my day.
This passage is a wakeup call, because I have neglected the king. And I bet you have too.
DON’T WALK BY
So what do we do with this? Because this seems rather extreme. Is our eternal destiny really dependent on how we treat the poor?
Let’s talk about it. Theologians tie themselves in knots debating how this passage fits with the rest of the New Testament. Because other passages make it seem pretty clear that we are saved by our faith alone. Not by our actions.
You can’t do anything to earn your way into salvation. It’s a gift of God.
But then Jesus comes along and says that your behavior towards the forgotten will determine your eternity. So which is it?
Well, here I think the words of James the apostle help a lot. James was the half-brother of Jesus and the leader of the Church in Jerusalem. His letter in our Bibles (the book of James) has a lot to say about justice for the poor. Here’s what he wrote about faith and works:
James 2:14-17
What good is it, dear brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but don’t show it by your actions? Can that kind of faith save anyone? Suppose you see a brother or sister who has no food or clothing, and you say, “Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well”—but then you don’t give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do? So you see, faith by itself isn’t enough. Unless it produces good deeds, it is dead and useless.
What James is saying, I think, is that both things are true! You are saved by the grace of God, by putting your trust in Jesus.
But if that faith does not result in compassion and love and generosity toward the least of these, then was it ever real faith to begin with? How can we claim to put our trust in Jesus if we’re not going to do the things he taught us?
And what did he teach us? Well, read though Matthew - this discipleship manual - and Jesus’ teachings become crystal clear. When you encounter the mikros - the little ones - of our world,
Don’t walk by.
It’s everywhere in Matthew. Give to the one who asks. Care for the needy. Eat with sinners. Get close to the unclean. Make room for the stranger. Love your neighbor as yourself.
A compassionate posture toward the forgotten of our world is the bread and butter of what it means to follow Jesus. This is the fruit of genuine faith.
This isn’t just about the person panhandling in the subway. It’s also about that awkward kid in class who doesn’t have any friends.
It’s about the single mother struggling to make ends meet while raising her children in a chaotic world.
It’s about the immigrant - the asylum seeker, trying to make a new life in a bewildering foreign culture. It’s about the person with a disability who feels totally alone. It’s about the neighbor or family member imprisoned by addiction.
It’s about all the marginalized people of our world desperately clinging to the bottom rungs of the hierarchy of needs.
“Whatever you did to the least of these… you were doing to me.”
The question Jesus raises in Matthew 25 is crucial for every one of us to wrestle with: Are you ready for the reign of the king? Because he is paying attention to how you respond to the forgotten.
Is your faith bearing the fruit of Christlikeness? Do you see the orphans, widows, and foreigners of your world? And do your words and actions toward them resemble the words and actions of Jesus?
The King is there among the least of these. Don’t walk by.
——
Now, normally at this point I would provide action steps and practical tips. But I’m not going to do that today.
Because this is some really heavy stuff, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to imagine that the Holy Spirit is doing some work on every one of us right now.
So instead of giving you action steps, I simply want to provide some space for you to process - to do some business with God. What is the Spirit saying to you?
“Whatever you did to the least of these… you were doing to me.”
Reflection Questions:
• What “little ones” have you disregarded?
• Who is God calling you to notice right now?
• Are you ready for the reign of the King?