Darn Mother Teresa, that goody no shoes . . .

For those readers who are not Christian, or of no faith at all, this post is about a part of my Christian faith.  Just wanted to be upfront in case you aren't interested in that kind of thing. On the other hand, it couldn't hurt.

I am a follower of Jesus.  Sometimes from pretty far back, but a follower none the less.  Jesus has a lot of grace in that respect.  He keeps having to turn around and come back and toss out  some of the cans of soup and other heavy apparently non-essentials  that I have insisted on stashing in my backpack.

Probably the most central statement of Jesus in my thoughts and theology is found in Matthew 25:  Yes, I have probably quoted this four or five times already in the last 600 or so posts. But like I said, it is important, I think.  I am sure Jesus appreciates that endorsement:  


³¹ “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³ He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
³⁴ “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. ³⁵ 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, ³⁶ 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.’
³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
⁴⁰ “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.’

I think about this passage a lot.  It seems too simple.  It seems contrary to unconditional grace, you know the old "saved by grace, not be deeds" thing.  It seems too hard.  And it doesn't say anything about believing the "right" things, saying the "right" words, or even not doing any of those sins we keep accusing each other of.

I have a friend who used to say that it would be just his luck to arrive at the Pearly Gates and be right behind Mother Teresa.  She is like that nerdy genius in your calculus class that completely messes up the grading curve for everyone else.

Sometimes I wonder how it would be to be one of the goats or sheep, standing before the throne. What might Jesus' say?

I was hungry and you taxed my groceries so you could have a sweet tax break. Especially you guys in the Alabama, the buckle of the Bible belt.

I was thirsty and you let my water be poisoned to keep your electricity rates low, or your stock prices high.

I was a stranger and you called me "illegal" and an "alien" and made my life so miserable that I had to leave.

My clothes were ragged, I had no coat, and you walked to the other side of the street, called me names under your breath, and posted signs on your church asking me not to hang around there.

I was sick and you complained that it cost too much to take care of me. You said I should take care of my self.

I was in prison, and you said that's where I belong.

I was oppressed and you let me stand alone.

I was all of these.  Maybe you did none of these things to me.

But you did nothing for me.

Instead you worked hard, spending your precious  life on your money, your rights, your way,  your own.

I don't know what Jesus might say.

But the rest of my friend's joke is that St. Peter, after hearing all the good that Mother Teresa had done, shook his head and said, " I'm sorry.  That's just not good enough to get in."

And that's the way it is, I suspect. Nothing we can do is good enough. But Jesus' obviously meant for us to give it our best shot, and he would make up the difference with grace.  At least that is my hope.

  But we have loaded our backpacks so heavy with stuff and keep looking back to make sure nobody is getting any of it. We threaten to injure or even kill those that might try to take it from us.  We move slower and slower on the journey forward because the weight of our greed and selfishness is wearing us out, and we don't even know it.

And Jesus is now just a small figure on the horizon ahead. But He's never out of sight.  And we are never out of His.

But don't look now.  He's coming back for us.  And He's got his eyes on that backpack again.

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