Dec 7th Advent day 11

Funny how things go isnt it?  Started the day watching an episode of the Secret Millionaire - love that programme - then this afternoon caught the end of a Radio 4 news bulletin about a church in London which is giving out new clothes to people who are sleeping on the streets, and they are labelling the clothes ' In His Name'  (or something like that).  And then I come to Joyce Hugget's reading for the day and it is this

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.”  

Matthew 25

Chilling words those......'whatever you did not do'    Quite scary to think that we are not going to be judged on the stuff we did - good and bad- but the stuff we DIDNT do !  Eeeeek.   So that lady selling the Big Issue that I skirted past the other day.  Hmmmmm.  The television appeals and charity envelopes through the door to which I never respond.  The prisoners I dont visit.  The sick I dont pray for.  Oh dear.

I suppose Christmas is traditionally a time when we try to think of those less fortunate than ourselves.  Those who are elderly and housebound.  Families struggling with debt.  The homeless. Thinking about them clearly isnt enough though is it?  Jesus definitely wants action not just good intentions.  

So... this Christmas who are you going to feed, clothe, house, visit or pray for?

A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief

A poor wayfaring Man of grief Hath often crossed me on my way, Who sued so humbly for relief That I could never answer nay. I had not power to ask his name, Whereto he went, or whence he came; Yet there was something in his eye That won my love; I knew not why. Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered; not a word he spake, Just perishing for want of bread. I gave him all; he blessed it, brake, And ate, but gave me part again. Mine was an angel’s portion then, For while I fed with eager haste, The crust was manna to my taste. I spied him where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his strength was gone. The heedless water mocked his thirst; He heard it, saw it hurrying on. I ran and raised the suff’rer up; Thrice from the stream he drained my cup, Dipped and returned it running o’er; I drank and never thirsted more. ’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof. I heard his voice abroad and flew To bid him welcome to my roof. I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest And laid him on my couch to rest; Then made the earth my bed, and seemed In Eden’s garden while I dreamed. Stripped, wounded, beaten nigh to death, I found him by the highway side. I roused his pulse, brought back his breath, Revived his spirit, and supplied Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed. I had myself a wound concealed, But from that hour forgot the smart, And peace bound up my broken heart. In pris’n I saw him next, condemned To meet a traitor’s doom at morn. The tide of lying tongues I stemmed, And honored him ’mid shame and scorn. My friendship’s utmost zeal to try, He asked if I for him would die. The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill, But my free spirit cried, “I will!” Then in a moment to my view The stranger started from disguise. The tokens in His hands I knew; The Savior stood before mine eyes. He spake, and my poor name He named, “Of Me thou hast not been ashamed. These deeds shall thy memorial be; Fear not, thou didst them unto Me.” James Montgomery   (1771 -1854) Lord, this Christmas help me not to be so focused on the shopping and the presents and the cards and the cooking that I miss the people.  Help me to remember what a very difficult time of year this can be for so many and show me where I can make a difference.