To be or not to be … a Sheep or a Goat
by Robert K. Martin
I’m sick and tired of the world being divided into 2 opposing groups: blue or red states, gay or straight, conservative-liberal, evangelicals and-everybody-else. Whether it’s coming from the media or politicians or our pastors or even from my own inability to think creatively, it’s like we are back on the school playground and we’ve got to choose sides for dodge ball. But when we’re adults we’re no longer content throwing rubber balls at each other. No, when we “grow up” we try to get the other group in a legislative full-nelson to coerce them do what we want. That’s what politics has become. That’s usually what’s going on at our annual denominational conferences. That’s what many of our pastors would have us believe we should do to groups that don’t look like us, act like us, love like us.
Take any national issue these days, whether it’s Iraq, immigration, taxes, healthcare, Bush, you name it, we’re either “fer it or agin’ it”. When I was reading through the Gospel of Matthew just the other day, there it was again: either we are sheep or goats with the latter finding their unfortunate and terrifying end in a lake of fire, which by the way is a much more satisfying way to end the contest than just strangling our opponent in a full-nelson, don’t you think? That is, unless I’m on the goat-side of things.
That’s the burr under my saddle at the moment, so I thought I would take this opportunity to explore the parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25: 31 and following to hopefully find something redemptive in it. For this passage is really one of the ultimate social divisions imaginable: only 1 team is left standing, and they win it all, big-time.
I remember hearing sermons on the parable of the sheep and goats as a young Southern Baptist in the South (That’s a heritage one can never completely overcome. The only way I can deal with it productively short of alcoholism and therapy is to write about it.). I was afraid that I was going to be one of those poor hapless goats, and I wouldn’t even know about until it was too late. It’s like that recurring dream I used to have all through school where I discovered I was late for a final in a class I didn’t know I had. You show up on judgment day without a prayer wondering “how did I get here?!” I didn’t sign up for this! I can remember praying to God late at night begging “him” to spare the divine wrath that I was so sure had my name on it.
I couldn’t understand how I could be punished for something I didn’t know I did. I was trying to be good and believe all the right things, but I didn’t know if I was being good enough or believing enough, and from the story there was no way to know the difference. How is that fair? How is that justice? I prayed to God, “just let me know which side of the fence I’m on, the sheep-side or the goat-side. I’ll do whatever, just tell me!” Of course the scripture says it quite plainly: visit the criminals and the deathly ill. Feed the hungry, give your clothes to the naked. There it is in black and white. What’s so hard about that?! But when you’re 8 or 9 years old, those are some pretty high standards.
Still, the fact that the goats hadn’t a clue really disturbed me. But what really rocked my world was that the sheep didn’t have a clue either. Well, if the sheep don’t know what they did to deserve a pat on the head, then what hope is there for any of us? I just wanted to know what the deal was; then I would try my best to pick the right path.
I hope you, the reader, don’t mind, but I have a ‘path’ story, another childhood remembrance, so I pray you’ll indulge me. When I was in the 6th grade, my class went camping outside our small Louisiana town in a place called Magnolia Park. It was kid-heaven: densely wooded, lots of trails that meandered around, and flowing through the middle of it was Magnolia Creek, a small river that was great for swimming and canoeing. It’s a fast-moving stream that had cut its way into the earth so the water level was about 5-6 feet below ground level. Every so often a rope would be hanging from a tree at the water’s edge, and we’d hoop and holler as we swung out into the creek like little monkeys.
Late one night several us of boys were going to play a trick on the girls to frighten them. As a group of them came through the woods with their flashlights blazing in the inky blackness, my friends and I scattered through the forest to get into our attack positions. My orders were to run around and come up from behind them. So, unable to see a thing I took off running through the brush and down a trail.
Full of jittery excitement, I ran hard and fast until suddenly my feet left the trail….I was airborne, floating for a second in midair, then falling fast, and with a hard splash, I found myself submerged in icy water. At first I was so disoriented that I had to realize that I was actually in water and I needed to find the surface. Breaking through, it was hard to fight the shock to catch my breath. It took me a minute longer to figure out what I had done and where I was — in the creek. Then as my circumstances grew clear, I was mortified. In the distance I could hear my friends calling out to one another: “What was that noise?”… “what happened?” Then another cried out, “I think somebody fell into the creek.” Then another, “must have been Robert!!” And everyone – the boys AND the girls – howled in laughter as I crawled up the muddy bank wishing I could disappear in shame to escape their torturous ridicule. That was a path I wished I hadn’t taken.
The journey of life leads somewhere. The paths we choose lead us to our destiny. In the parable of the sheep and goats, Jesus is warning his disciples to wake up, to be aware, to realize that what they do matters. I’m thinking about this in three ways:
1. What we do makes us who we are. In the parable, those on the right did not start out as sheep; those on the left didn’t start out as goats. They became who they are by what they did. Everything we do, every action, every place we go, every relationship we have is making us more of a sheep or more of a goat.
In “Pinocchio” (both the Italian book and the Disney movie), the little wooden marionette who wants to be human joins with a group of foolish boys who are lured into riotous living on Paradise Island. There they lose sight of the spiritual and moral dimensions that make us human. Out to have a good time carousing, thinking only of themselves and of their fleeting diversions, they ultimately make asses out of themselves. They found out that we are not only what we eat, but more importantly we are what we do.
2. Our actions matter because what we do creates a world around us. The way we treat our spouses and children makes us a more loving family… or not. At the office, the way we treat our colleagues either makes our work together more enjoyable and productive… or not. Our clothing purchases provide decent living conditions for people all around the world… or not. The way we interact everyday on the streets makes our society more livable… or not. The food we eat is grown in sustainable ways or in ways that degrade the planet. The point is that our actions have consequences, and what we do to each other creates the society and environment in which we live.
3. Most importantly, our actions matter eternally because this is God’s world and the Spirit of God is everywhere, in all things. In Colossians we are told that all things were made in Christ and for Christ, and in Christ everything is held together and will one day be reconciled through the Spirit. What a beautiful and wondrous vision: we are always and at all times held in Christ, whether we know it or not. Christ is all around us and we are dwelling in Christ.
As Romans says, “Nothing can separate us from the love of God”; the psalmist sings, “even in the depths of Sheol, there will I find you”. Yes this is God’s world, and what we do in God’s world we do to God.
This is a key point in the parable of the sheep and goats: what we do to each other we do to God. It is not just a matter of being ‘nice, holding right beliefs, and obeying the laws. In fact, in the parable, Jesus didn’t ask anyone what they believed or which laws they followed. According to the parable, the difference between being a sheep or a goat lies in what we do to the least among us, to the lost and outcast. Are we clothing the naked, helping the poor, visiting prisoners, feeding the hungry?
But now we are back to the originating question: who are the sheep and who are the goats? As I struggle with this passage now, it is coming to me quite differently because I am not primarily seeing the world dualistically. Rather, I think this parable is not so much about divisions on the outside, but on the inside. It’s not about dividing society into heaven-bound and hell-bound, but it’s about cultivating a more heavenly and beloved community.
Sometimes I care for the needy. Sometimes I have given to the poor, visited the sick. So perhaps I have a little bit of sheep in me. But I also know that I walk by the homeless, and I don’t think very much about those in prison. So I think I’ve got a little bit of goat in me as well. I’ll bet that is true for us all, and it is also true of our communities as well as our nations.
And this is what I think the parable is mostly saying to us. Not that Jesus is going to throw billions of people into a fiery pit. Rather, something wonderful happens as we join the God who seeks the lost and welcomes the outcast: a little bit of our goat is thrown into the lake of fire. Our fear of those who are different from us is thrown into the fire; our haughtiness is thrown into the fire; our pride, likewise – into the fire. It is like separating the wheat from the chaff or burning impurities from gold.
I yearn to have the goat inside me thrown into the fiery pit to be burned up forever; I yearn to be cleansed of my self-preoccupation and of my fear of those who are different from me. I want to be more fully a sheep that is welcomed by the Good Shepherd into eternal life.
But the decisive test is not how we treat those like us, those in our family or even those in our congregation. The true test is what we do to those who are most different from us, those who scare us, who disgust us, who repel us: what do we do to the least and the lost, the forsaken and the outcast, all of whom are in God’s family.
Jesus wants us to be pure and holy in our loving service to the most vulnerable in society. And only when we do that, when we lovingly serve the least in our human family do we reflect the pure and holy image of God in which we are made. Only then is Jesus’ life and ministry manifest in and through us. Only then is our prayer fulfilled through us, incarnationally: Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
So now when I hear the Word of God proclaimed through this parable of the sheep and goats, I hear a Word of hope not fear, of encouragement not despair. When we show compassion to the least of those in God’s family, there we will meet Christ; there we will be transformed into the image and likeness of Christ, who is the true Lamb of God.