“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 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.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (Matthew 25:34–40 NIV)
This passage – and others like it – can be a hard pill to swallow. It’s not one that comes without divisive opinions of interpretation. Yet if we’re taking it literally, I would think that any and all of us – without question – would feed, clothe, and house Jesus if we met him in the flesh. But just like he challenges his disciples here, would we also do those things when they cost us something?
I like to think of myself as a generous and hospitable person – and I can make a five-star MealTrain. But if I’m honest with myself, that generosity is often limited by what’s convenient for me. If I’m already cooking, let me double the recipe and drop it off to a friend who’s in a hard season. If you need a place to stay between rentals, our basement has a bedroom and bathroom and it’s available. I’m not saying those simple actions can’t still be filled with kindness – I hope they are – but they don’t cost me much. What if Jesus is asking me – and all of us – to truly live in such a way that doesn’t just care for “these brothers and sisters of mine” (and that doesn’t just mean my friends), but does so especially when it’s inconvenient? Spoiler alert: I think he is.
Through Jesus’s work on the cross just a few chapters after this one, he ushers in a beautiful unity of purpose – we are called to join him in his Kingdom work. As we become more like Christ, slowly but surely, we too will adopt his posture of self-sacrificing love. As a disciple of Jesus, I am called to love the people around me in accordance with the way of Jesus – to live in such a way that when people see my actions, they don’t see me, but him.
That’s a hard ask, my friends. It will stretch us outside our comfort zones and likely cost us dearly. Loving in the way Jesus did requires love at all times, not just times that are convenient. But as we’re pursuing unity with Jesus, may we also remember, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”
Carissa Steinhart works as executive assistant to Stu Streeter, the NAB VP of Church Multiplication and Ministry Advancement.