Matthew 25:43: I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.
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There is a Tibetan Buddhist story of people throwing stones at a dog. One of the stones hits the dog in the leg. Immediately, a revered Buddhist master who is present cries out in pain. As the people look, they see a welt rising up on the leg of the monk. Not only does this cause the people to have even greater respect and reverence for the master, it also causes them to treat that dog and other dogs with greater kindness. Lest we miss the message of this story, the greatest effect is not on the Buddhist monk or on the dogs; the greatest effect is on the people themselves. The stone-throwing incident and the lesson of the monk’s welt and pain lead the people to grow in compassion.
Many of us engage in a lifelong quest to answer the questions of who is/was this Jesus of Nazareth. Just as in the story of the two followers who did not recognize Jesus on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24: 13-35), we may be fascinated by questions of how this Jesus is mystically, metaphysically, spiritually present in our world today? When and where is Jesus truly here? As proclaimed in Matthew 25, there is both exhilaration and warning in the presence of the Christ in the prisoner, the stranger, the naked, and the sick.
Such quests and cautions and percolations may be worthy fodder for reflection as we walk the spiritual path, but Matthew 25 may also serve as a simple and profound teaching that is exemplified in the Eastern Orthodox Christian tradition. A 20th Century Christian monk writes of what happens to one who engages in continuous prayer and spiritual practice, “When Grace is energized in the heart of the one who prays, then the love of God floods his entire being to such an extent that…this love is transferred to the love of the world and the human person. His love becomes so powerful that he asks to take upon himself all the suffering and unhappiness of the others so that they themselves may be relieved. He suffers with those who are suffering even for the suffering of animals, so much so that he sheds bitter tears when he becomes aware of their pain. These are attributes of Love.” (quote of Monk Joseph in Kyriacos C. Markides’ The Mountain of Silence, p. 47)
What is the practice of Christianity? To welcome the stranger. To give clothing to the naked. To visit the sick and imprisoned. To do all this with compassion for the other. What is the practice of Christianity? To so grow in compassion that we cry bitter tears when the dog is struck with a stone; to so grow in compassion, to so take on the suffering of the other, that when a dog is struck with a stone, a welt rises on our own leg.
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The homeless person begging for change, the stranger wanting to enter your neighborhood or your country, the prisoner accused of a violent crime – can we even begin to see Jesus in them? An animal is hurt or in pain – can we feel it? These “practices of Christianity” (and Buddhism) may seem far beyond our capabilities – and perhaps, in this moment, they are beyond our capacity, but they are not beyond our potential. The Buddhist and Eastern Orthodox Christian monks engage in hours of daily prayer and meditation. We may not be ready to commit to hours of spiritual practice each day, but what might happen if we increase our prayer and meditation time just a bit? What might happen if we devote just a little additional time and spiritual practice this week to holding in our hearts the suffering of the naked, the stranger, the sick, the prisoner? What might happen if we also devote just a little spiritual practice time to holding the suffering of an animal that might be in great pain?
(Music: Courtesy of Adrian Von Ziegler, “Circle of Life.” )