When politicians quote Jesus

One quotation from the recent American elections caught my eye, from Senator Raphael Warnock: “I’m a Matthew 25 Christian.” According to the New York Times: “It’s his boilerplate, invoked in response to questions about health care, immigration and even Fidel Castro.”

In fact, this chapter of Jesus’ teaching has become a favourite reference for a new wave of religious Democrats in American politics. James Talarico of Texas, Adam Hamilton of Kansas and Sarah Trone Garriott of Iowa all wove these verses into their election campaigns — and won.

In our own country, Liz Twist, Labour MP for Blaydon and Consett, quoted Matthew 25 in the House of Commons, referring to the work of the Trussell Trust, food banks and Christian organisations helping people experiencing poverty.

So what’s so special about this particular chapter of Matthew’s Gospel? After all, we have 28 chapters to choose from!

This is Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats, his final parable in Matthew before his arrest and trial. Here we hear Jesus’ call to comfort and care for the vulnerable.

Here it is from The Message translation:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why:

I was hungry and you fed me,

 I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,

 I was homeless and you gave me a room,

 I was shivering and you gave me clothes,

 I was sick and you stopped to visit,

 I was in prison and you came to me.’”

 (verses 34–36)

However, there is an important question about the original meaning of this passage. Some scholars argue that, in the context of the early church and its experience of persecution, Jesus is speaking particularly about those who help his followers as they suffer, even in prison, for the sake of the Gospel.

Earlier in Matthew, Jesus says: “Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me.” Hence the reference to the least of these who are members of my family.” (v40).

Nevertheless, we have understandably broadened our application of the passage to include anyone who is vulnerable and in need. Certainly, throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus teaches compassion, mercy and practical generosity.

What is striking, either way, is that Jesus identifies himself so completely with those who need help.

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

The Greek makes this identification exceptionally strong. Jesus identifies himself with those who are hungry, homeless, sick, imprisoned or otherwise vulnerable.

So helping the vulnerable is a Gospel imperative.

As the New York Times reported of Matthew 25: “Talarico used it to argue that healthcare is a human right. Hamilton applied it to make the case for welcoming immigrants. And Zack Mullock, an incoming representative from New Jersey, recalled how his mother often used the chapter to teach him to care for ‘the least of these’ in society.”

So far, so good.

But there is more.

If Scripture is a two-edged sword, as we read in the epistle to the Hebrews, then there are two blades. We need to attend to the whole parable, including its conclusion concerning those who have chosen to ignore the vulnerable and those in need.

So Jesus says towards the end of the passage: “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

And then comes the final verse: “And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” (v46)

Here Jesus speaks with unmistakable seriousness.

Whatever he may be teaching, these are not words we can simply ignore. The passage begins with ordinary acts of compassion but ends with the ultimate destinies of humanity.

Few politicians, I suspect, will quote this concluding verse from such a popular parable. It sits uncomfortably with many of our 21st-century assumptions.

The future tense points to a decisive judgement. Jesus’ teaching concludes with the separation of the two groups. Indeed, the whole passage is framed by God's final judgement, with profoundly serious consequences.

Of course, Christians differ in their understanding of the precise nature of those consequences. The passage does not settle every question about eternal punishment.

But whatever Jesus is teaching here, we cannot simply cherry-pick those parts which suit us and leave the rest. That would be to produce a sanitised Jesus, one more acceptable to our own age.

There are, of course, other passages which we must hold alongside this teaching. So the apostle Paul writes to Timothy that God “wants not only us but everyone saved, you know, everyone to get to know the truth we’ve learned.” (1 Timothy 2:4, The Message)

So we are left with a tension between God's judgement and his overwhelming desire to save. We may not be able to resolve it, but neither should we explain it away.

Scripture is there not simply to confirm our political manifesto but to challenge us. After all, the Jesus who welcomes the vulnerable is also the Jesus who judges.

As the American pastor and theologian Tim Keller puts it: “If your god never disagrees with you, you might just be worshiping an idealized version of yourself.”