Matthew 25
Someone told me a story once about a church whose membership had dwindled to the point that the building was being sold. There was a huge real estate sign out front announcing “FOR SALE.” Someone else — maybe a church member — had added a smaller sign that read, “Going out of business. Forgot what kind of business we were in.”
That story made a lasting impression on me. There is nothing more energizing for a group of people than to share a common goal and mission, to know what kind of business they are in. Though, the other side of that coin is that there is nothing more energy-draining than to replace a common mission with smaller, fragmented goals or visions, to forget what kind of business they are in altogether.
For as long as I have been part of the Presbyterian Church USA, we have too often allowed our disagreements over issues large and small to diminish our call to serve others in the name of Jesus. Now, don’t mishear me: all of the issues we wrestled with and fought over were important issues, but they were not the mission. Over the last 30 years, as we have seen the membership of the PCUSA steadily decline, some have played the blame game:
If only we had a more dynamic pastor…
If only we had a more charismatic youth leader…
If only we didn’t sing those dirges on Sunday…
If only parents would save Sunday for church life and not let other activities take
precedent…
I could go on, but you get the idea.
Many churches (and pastors) have been so caught up in the blame game along with the numbers game — number of members, number in the pews on Sunday, number in the youth group, number of the annual budget — that for too long, we have lost sight of the larger mission of the church as described in Matthew 25: 31–46. This reading is often referred to as the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats. Here is what it says:
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.’
41 “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
44 “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’
45 “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’
46 “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”
This parable is alarmingly straightforward. So convicted by these words were the General Assemblies of the Presbyterian Church (USA) that this larger governing body of the church called on the whole church to enact these words in our mission by serving boldly and compassionately to care for people who are hungry, oppressed, imprisoned, or poor.
Churches that committed to becoming a Matthew 25 church were asked to sign on to pledge to work toward one or more of the following:
Building congregational vitality
Dismantling structural racism
Eradicating systemic poverty
For this article, I have decided to address the one that I believe has overarching importance and is key to achieving the other goals. No doubt, it is also the mission that will prove to be the most daunting – dismantling structural racism.
The Matthew 25 initiative has caused me to do some work on myself. To begin to learn things I have previously not known well and have not worked hard to understand deeply. I am speaking particularly and painfully in terms of white privilege and the resulting systemic or structural racism. I am talking about my own hard-wired and self-perpetuating attitudes and beliefs about race. I do not have any grand ideas about dismantling structural racism; I just want to become less of the problem and more of the blessed solution.
I certainly don’t like to think of myself as racist or oppressive to others, but here’s the truth of the matter: I grew up in rural Alabama, coming of age in George Wallace’s time. I was a seventh-grader the year my public school desegregated. My hometown had a laundry mat for “whites” only. This delineation of who could and could not use the laundry mat was displayed in ALL CAPS on the front of the concrete block building. One day as we were driving by the laundry mat, my mother and I had a heartfelt and honest conversation about it. She explained why the business owner made such a “rule,” but she also explained why the laundry owner was wrong in his thinking and wrong in his actions. We did not seek to change the owner’s mind; we did not picket or protest; we just simply did not use the laundry mat. Of course, we did not need to. Luckily, we owned a washer and dryer, and we were able to employ a woman of color who saw to it that our clothes were washed, dried, ironed, and put away. The woman’s name was Mae.
When Mae accompanied us for a doctor or dentist appointment, I noticed but did not give much thought to the fact that there were separate and not necessarily equal waiting rooms: one for whites and one for persons of color. I do not know what Mae’s waiting room looked like, but I can imagine that the chairs were not as comfortable or the magazines as fresh and new as those in my waiting room.
What I am coming to understand more fully are all the ways that I have enjoyed my unearned skin privilege and have been thoroughly conditioned about its existence.
Until I attended seminary, my education – formal and informal – gave me no training in seeing myself as an unfairly advantaged person or as a participant in a damaged culture. As a matter of fact, I was taught to think of my life as normative and average.
Here is a list of some of the daily effects of white privilege that I have found helpful. I did not think this list up; it comes from an article titled, White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh.*
McIntosh chose these conditions, which she thought were attached somewhat more to skin-color privilege than to class, religion, ethnic status, or geographic location, though, of course, all these other factors are intricately intertwined.
I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most, if not all, of the time.
If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.
I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.
I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.
I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.
When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.
I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege.
I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods that fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can cut my hair.
Whether I use checks, credit cards, or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance of financial reliability.
I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.
I can swear, or dress in second-hand clothes, or not answer letters without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty, or the illiteracy of my race.
I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.
I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.
I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.
I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of color who constitute the world’s majority without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.
I can criticize our government and talk about how much I fear its policies and behavior without being seen as a cultural outsider.
I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to “the person in charge,” I will be facing a person of my race.
If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.
I can easily buy posters, postcards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys, and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.
I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out-of-place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, or feared.
I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of race.
I can choose public accommodations without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.
I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.
If my day, week, or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it has racial overtones.
I can choose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” color and have them more or less match my skin.
As you read this list, you may have thought of other instances or situations where skin color played a role in some aspect of your daily life. Reading this list caused me to remember an incident a few years ago when Mae, now 92 years old, and I were shopping together. Specifically, we were looking for a pair of shoes. She tried on several pairs and ended up selecting a nice pair of Clarks. Returning to the car, Mae asked me what the woman’s name was who had waited on us in the store. “I don’t know if I saw her name,” I replied. “Well, I thought she must have been a friend of yours. She was so nice to us.” It occurred to me at that moment that friendly shoe store employees had not been the norm for Mae, but for me, that is mostly all I have known.
Dismantling structural racism is a grand mission, and it is an extensive calling, but one that I believe the PCUSA is fully equipped to live into. By accepting the Matthew 25 invitation, congregations like First Presbyterian Church of LaGrange can become a more relevant presence in the world. We recognize Christ’s urgent call to be a church of action, where God’s love, justice, and mercy shine forth and are contagious. We can then share the glad and good news of Jesus for a common and holy purpose: our common identity to do mission in the world.
In other words, we can remember what kind of business we are in.
*White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack, 1989 @ Peggy McIntosh
"White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack" first appeared in Peace and Freedom Magazine, July/August, 1989, pp. 10-12, a publication of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, Philadelphia, PA. McIntosh's lists must not be taken out of their autobiographical contexts.