Brief synopsis of the readings: We begin with the prophet Ezekiel. He tells us that the Lord will look after his flock. He will keep his sheep in view and rescue the scattered. He ended this reading with this quotation: “As for you, my sheep, says the Lord God, I will judge between one sheep and another, between rams and goats.” In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus prophesizes that when the “Son of Man” comes he will divide everyone into two groups. To the first group he praises them because when he was hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or a prisoner they cared for him. Surprised they asked when they served him and he responded: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.” He then turned to the other group and told them that when he was in need they did not serve him. Again, “Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.” Those who did serve were given salvation while those who did not suffered eternal punishment.

I’ve been talking for the last few weeks that as we approach the end of the liturgical year our readings become more and more apocalyptic, that is they discuss what we sometimes call the “end times.” And many of us grew up learning that these readings discussed something that would happen sometime in the future, though likely in our lifetimes. Certainly when we least expected it.

These readings, and particularly this Gospel, caused concern because by the time “the moment” happened it was too late. Our salvation or our condemnation rested on events that took place when we weren’t paying attention. Those who didn’t do what they were supposed to were just as surprised as those who did the right thing. For them it must have seemed like the worst of all pop quizzes.

So what can we learn from this? Certainly not just that we’re supposed to do the right thing; that lesson goes back to Genesis. I also don’t think it means that we should live every second with the anxiety that “it could happen today, so watch out!”

Jews of Jesus’ time awaited the Messiah in the belief that he (or she) will make all things well. As Christians we believe Jesus is the Messiah but the world is far from well. When Jews are asked why they don’t believe in Jesus some will answer: “Look around. Does this look like a world that has seen the Messiah?” They have a point. When I was a seminarian I was told that we are in the “already/not yet,” that is, the time between the coming of the Messiah and the return of the Messiah.

So let’s play with this a little. I think these readings call us not to look to the sky for a sign but into the eyes of each other with new recognition. When the Son of Man spoke to the two groups he didn’t reward or punish them for serving others but himself. When I was hungry you fed me. When I was a stranger you welcomed me.

Maybe we’ve been paying attention the the “not yet” when we are supposed to be paying attention to the “already.” The Messiah isn’t some divine “Superman” sent to us from heaven just to be next to us. The Messiah came to dramatically change us in a way that binds us to each other. And that isn’t necessarily good news.

Alas, so much of what we see today is what divides us. In my lifetime the “they” has been Communists, Jews, African Americans, gays, Arabs, Mexicans, transgenders, and, well you get the point. They have been vilified, outlawed, persecuted and murdered. Sadly many of them faced persecution from people who claim to revere today’s readings. I once worked at a church were I joked that our mission statement was “For I was hungry and you gave me a map.” If someone came to our office in need of food we would direct them to another part of the city that had a food bank; in fairness we didn’t turn them away empty handed but we also made sure they didn’t stay around.

We need to be honest about the fact that “the least of my people” means people who don’t make our prejudices easy. When we see a refuge camp we can see them as “them,” as people who always want something but don’t work. Truth is they are often denied the ability to work by countries that are willing to let them in but don’t want them to stay. Their need to flee their homes wasn’t self inflicted and they didn’t stop needing food and shelter when they landed on our doorstep.

A few times in my life I’ve had the privilege of being a prison chaplain and I can tell you that a simple visit means more to the inmates that you may think. Most of the prejudices about inmates I’ve heard about come from people who have never been inside a prison or jail.

Likewise, those of us who were born into the “right” sex and orientation have too easy a time judging the actions, decisions or desires of others. Issues of orientation or gender fluidity may confuse or frighten us but it doesn’t remove their need for love and acceptance. It also doesn’t remove God’s command that we love them and provide for their needs.

When I spoke about our need to look more at the “already” than the “not yet” I think it means we need to look into the eyes not of the people God sees as the least but the people we see as the last. It also means that we aren’t called to replace them; we make no progress if we stop hating people of color only to start hating transgender teens.

Today we celebrate the last Sunday of this year; next week we begin Advent. That means that today is the end of the “end times” and we start over again. It’s a good time to recognize the role of the “already” that Jesus’ coming has given us.