One of my favorite musical forms is the spiritual. For as long as I can remember, one of my favorite spirituals has been “Sweet Little Jesus Boy.” I don’t know why, exactly. I like the melody. I like some of the images it calls to mind. It stirs up some deep feelings within me. I don’t know, I just like it.

But recently, some of the words have been troubling me. All throughout the song there is the recurring phrase, “We didn’t know who you was,” or, “We didn’t know ‘twas you.” One typical verse says,

“The world treat you mean, Lord, treat me mean too;
But please, sir, forgive us Lord, we didn’t know ‘twas you.”

Those words have been troubling me.

When our children were in their teen years, we took a long family trip. One of the highlights was a night when we went to Broadway in New York City and saw a production of “Godspell.” In one of the scenes, Jesus gave his followers the message contained in our morning scripture. He said, “I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you clothed me. I was in prison and you came to me.” And then he added, “Just as you did it to one of the least of these, my brothers and my sisters, you did it to me.” Jesus went on to talk about what would happen to those who did not feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and imprisoned. And he concluded by saying, “Just as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.” At that moment, in the production of “Godspell,” one of the female followers of Jesus began to slink off. And she, almost casually, tossed back over her shoulder the line, “If we had known it was you, Jesus, we would have invited you out for a cup of coffee.”

There was that line again – that troubling line – “If we had known it was you.” If we had known it was you we would have acted differently.

I.

I think I know now what was bothering me. Implied both in the spiritual and in the line from “Godspell” is that it’s okay to have one set of behavioral standards for one group of people and another set of standards for another group. For special people, like Jesus, we are to be on our best behavior. But, for ordinary, run-of-the-mill people, we can act any old way.

That idea bothers me precisely because that’s the way most of us determine our behavior. First we find out who we’re dealing with, and then we decide how we’re going to act. Special people deserve special behavior. Ordinary people do not. It’s as simple as that!

How many cartoons have we all seen portraying some mischievous boys throwing snowballs and knocking the hats off passers-by? Then we see their chagrin when they discover that the offended party is the school principal, or a policeman, or a parent. The morality is clear, is it not? Knocking hats off people with snowballs is okay, unless it is somebody important.

The people for whom we reserve our best behavior are often those who have power or authority over us, or they are those who can do something for us, or they are those we admire or respect, or they are people we like. We are careful how we treat such people. We can be less careful with everyone else.

The pecking orders of every organization are interesting to observe. The classic arrangement is that the boss shouts at the employee, the employee shouts at the spouse, the spouse shouts at the child, the child kicks the dog. But the employee does not shout back at the boss for fear of his job. You see the pattern: our best behavior is reserved for special people.

When Jesus was giving his message about the last judgment, and the separating of the sheep from the goats, he was talking about a mind-set which has given us human beings trouble from the very beginning. Jesus knew that in the minds of his hearers the refusal to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and imprisoned is okay as long as we are not talking about someone important. That is what is implied in the statement, “If we had known it was you, we would have acted differently.”

We have only to look around us to see how prevalent is that way of thinking and acting – one set of behavioral standards for the special people and another set of standards for everyone else. For example, it is generally acknowledged that in our society we have one level of justice for the nobodies and another level for the wealthy, the privileged, and the influential. Your chance for justice depends upon who you are. Doesn’t that sound like a projection into the 21st century of the idea, “If we had known it was you, Jesus, we wouldn’t have treated you so shabbily?”

Think about all the people in the world suffering from hunger, disease, illiteracy, abuse of all kinds. We don’t like to think about such things. We’d rather close our eyes and hope such conditions will simply go away. But, of course, our reluctance to acknowledge and deal with such problems is symptomatic of their cause. We don’t become agitated about such conditions precisely because, for the most part, the victims are the nameless, faceless, masses of the world. If it were my son or daughter suffering, I would want to know, and you can be sure I would do something. If it were Jesus suffering, not a one of us would stand idly by, because we Christians have strong feelings about Jesus. We would not tolerate any bad behavior toward him.

But do you hear what we are saying? Somewhere we have misplaced the concept of the worth and dignity of every human life, every human life. As the sons and daughters of the one Father, we are all brothers and sisters, and we are intended by God to act accordingly, to act like a family.

II.

Listen now: the Christian gospel says that we are not to divide people neatly into categories, the worthies over here and the unworthies over there. We are not to reserve our best behavior for special people and then dump our behavioral garbage on the nobodies of the world. Jesus sets before us some very high ethical standards. He says that we are not to act toward people as we think they deserve. And we are not to act simply according to how we feel. Instead, we are to deal with everyone according to grace, that is, according to unconditional love. Another way of saying that is: we are to act toward others as God acts toward us. God, in His love, gives us not what we deserve, but what we need. Thank God for that!

Now, you have heard all these words before. This is nothing new. But Jesus puts it even more graphically. According to Jesus, there are no “nobodies.” There are no “unworthies”. According to Jesus, we don’t have to look carefully to see whether the person we are dealing with is Christ, because it always is! If Jesus means what he says, what he is telling us in clear language is that every human being we meet is Christ! Isn’t that what it means: “Just as you did it to one of the least of these, my brothers and my sisters, you did it to me.”

As special as Christ is to us Christians, every human being is to be equally special. And, how we act toward every human being is the way we act toward Christ. I can’t think of a more profoundly disturbing, far-reaching ethical principle. Every person we meet is Christ and we are to act accordingly!

This vision of the worth and dignity of every human being has been one of the most powerful forces for good in human history. Whenever people’s minds and hearts have been captured by it, significant change has taken place. One historian has claimed that four words brought about the virtual end to slavery in the world: “For whom Christ died.” Once we take seriously the fact that every human being is one for whom Christ died, one who is loved by God, then we can’t treat that person shabbily any more.

That’s what Jesus was getting at when he laid down this radical principle. Listen to it again and try to wrap your mind around the greatness of it: “Just as you have done it to one of the least of these, my brothers and my sisters, you have done it to me.” Jesus is identifying with the least, the poorest, the despised, the oppressed, the needy. You see them and you see Christ. You curse them and you curse Christ. You turn your back on them and you turn your back on Christ. You love and help them and you love and help Christ. Do you see the far reaching implications of what he is saying? If, when we look at any human being, we could see Christ and act accordingly, we just might begin to bring some healing and peace and justice to this battered and troubled world.

Of course, as always, we are not alone as we seek to be faithful to this vision. God is with us and will provide all that we need. God loves us and treats us as if we are special. Then He calls us to pass that loving along to others. And we can be certain that what God calls us to do He will help us to do.

In our last few minutes, let me tell you about some of the things that can happen when we begin to see Christ in those we meet. Try to get the feel of it if you can.

Mother Theresa of Calcutta is acknowledged to be a 20th century saint. She received the Nobel Peace Prize for her work among the poor and the oppressed of India. When she received the award, do you know what she said? She described her ministry simply as “seeing the face of Christ in every person I meet, and then doing something beautiful for God.” Do you hear it? “Just as you did it to one of the least of these, my brothers and my sisters, you did it to me.” Mother Theresa understood.

Then, there was the shoeshine boy who did such a good job week after week that one of his customers asked him, “How is it that you are so conscientious about your work?” The little fellow looked up at him and said, “Mister, I’m a Christian, and I try to shine every pair of shoes as if Jesus were wearing them.” The man never forgot those words. In fact, they led him to a new interest in the gospel and in reading the Bible. Eventually he committed his life to Christ. But he always credited his conversion to the boy who shined his shoes “as if Jesus were wearing them.” “Just as you have done it to one of the least of these, my brothers and my sisters, you have done it to me.”

I keep coming back again and again to the story of Conrad, the cobbler, as it is told by Edwin Markham. Conrad was a godly man, who sought to serve his Christ by the way he made and repaired shoes each day, and by the way he lived with his family and his neighbors through the week. One night he dreamed that Christ would visit his shop the next day. So, early in the morning, excitedly he went into the woods and gathered green boughs to decorate his shop for the Lord’s coming. He prepared some food in case the Lord was hungry. And then he began to wait. He waited all morning, but the only visitor was an old man who came in asking for a place to rest. Conrad noticed that his shoes were old and worn, so he selected the finest pair of new shoes he had in the shop, put them on his feet, and sent the man on his way refreshed, because the old man had made contact with someone who cared.

Conrad waited for the Lord’s coming through the afternoon, but the only person he saw was a woman struggling under a heavy load. He had compassion on her and invited her in to rest. She looked as if she had not had much to eat in awhile, so he gave her the food he had prepared for Christ. The woman found new strength and encouragement in Conrad’s shop and she thanked him before continuing her journey.

He waited throughout the remaining afternoon, but no one else came. Just as night was falling, a lost child came wandering into his shop. Conrad struggled with what to do. If he left, he might miss the visitation. But the child was frightened, and he knew how worried the parents would be. So, he left his shop and returned the child to his waiting parents’ arms. Conrad hurried back for fear that he would miss the coming of Christ. But, though he continued to wait, no one else came. Finally, in great disappointment, the old cobbler cried out,

“’Why is it Lord, that your feet delay, have you forgotten that this is the day?’
Then soft in the silence a voice he heard: ‘Lift up your heart, for I have kept my word.
Three times I came to your friendly door; three times my shadow was on your floor.
I was the beggar with bruised feet; I was the woman you gave to eat;
I was the child on the homeless street.’”

Then Conrad remembered and understood as never before the words of Jesus: “Just as you have done it to one of the least of these, my brothers and my sisters, you have done it to me.”

We can never again say, “If only we had known it was you.” We cannot plead ignorance ever again. Wherever we are, whoever we meet, it is Christ, and we are to act accordingly.

Prayer: Father, forgive us when we treat Your children like nobodies instead of like Your special children, who they are. Give us the grace to look at the people we meet and see Christ in them. Then enable us to act lovingly and helpfully as we would act in His presence. Use such loving actions to bring a larger measure of peace and good-will to this world You love so much. In the Master’s name we pray. Amen.