When Did We See You?

“Lord, when did we see you hungry? When did we see you a stranger? We would have remembered. We never saw you.” And the King smiles. “Oh, but you did.”

It is the last week before the cross. Jesus is sitting on the Mount of Olives, looking across the valley at the temple, with his disciples around him. They have asked him about the end of the age, and he has been telling them parables about being ready: ten young women waiting for a bridegroom, servants entrusted with their master's money. Now he finishes with a great scene, painted on the widest canvas of all. Not a story about a farmer or a fisherman. A picture of the King of all the nations.

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, Jesus says, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him. And he will separate people from one another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. The sheep he places on his right hand. Then the King says to those on his right: Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.

And he tells them why. For I was hungry, and you gave me food. I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you took me in. Naked, and you clothed me. Sick, and you visited me. In prison, and you came to me. The people are astonished. Lord, they say, when? When did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you? When did we see you sick, or in prison, and visit you? They do not remember doing any of this for a king.

And the King answers. “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Every bowl of soup. Every cup of water. Every coat given away. Every visit to someone lonely or sick or locked away. The King counts it as done to him. Think back to Christmas. The King of all nations was laid in a manger because there was no room for him, a stranger far from home. Soon after, he was a refugee in Egypt. He knows what it is to need a welcome. And he still comes to us, Jesus says, in the people who need one most.

Christians became known for this kind of care. In the three hundreds, the Roman emperor Julian, who wanted to bring back the old pagan religions, wrote a letter to a pagan high priest named Arsacius. He complained that the Christians, whom he called Galileans, supported not only their own poor but the pagans' poor as well, while the pagans did not help their own.

When Did We See You? You'll find it in Matthew chapter twenty-five, verses thirty-one to forty. At Christmas we welcome the baby Jesus in songs and nativity scenes; Jesus tells us we can welcome him in real people too. So here is a question to carry with you. Who is hungry, lonely, sick or a stranger near you, and how could you welcome Jesus by caring for them this Christmas?