The call came yesterday morning. I've gotten similar calls in the past and if the Dow continues to sink these calls are likely to rise. "Pastor, does your church serve Thanksgiving Dinner? I don't belong to a church, but I know churches often serve meals on Thanksgiving and we were wondering if your church does." I told her, "No, we don't." But I quickly added that we support the food pantry at St. Mary's in Mohegan Lake, and they are well stocked with turkeys and all the trimmings. Also, I told her that Grace has a discretionary fund and.... She cut me off. "Wait Pastor. We're looking for a place serving dinner, because my husband and I want to volunteer our time on Thanksgiving Day." Rhetorical question: guess who felt like a turkey? At any rate, let's quickly move from the turkey of my tale, to the sheep in the story of Jesus.

The sheep. It would seem that the sheep are those looking to host a Thanksgiving Dinner ... and they would take that dinner to the prisons, the hospitals, the shanty towns, to make sure everyone got a fair share. In the 25th chapter of Matthew there are several stories about what we call "the Last Judgment." This final one is my favorite, even as I remain somewhat perplexed. Is Jesus saying that a person who seldom, if ever, sits through a sermon or confesses a creed - is that person is going to be on the same footing as say, me for instance, who faithfully goes to church twice on Sunday? Does giving food and water to one who is hungry and thirsty count as much as say, receiving bread and wine, the very Presence of Jesus? When it comes to the Kingdom of God, is it cold water we offer in a cup ... or, is it faith which is the feather in our cap? One of the so-called Five Pillars of Islam is the giving of alms - charity for one's neighbor. If a Moslem gives food and water to a person in need, are her alms on par with our "amens" of faith?

Here's one possible answer. Jesus is nearing the end of the cross walk, as he tells this story of sheep and goats. In two days he will be crucified, then dead, then buried. Two days. And since this is the very last of the parables of Jesus as recorded by Matthew, you would think that the very last story would be pretty doggone important. I mean - everything Jesus says is important but c'mon - his very last story! And his very last story is all about the Unselfconscious Generosity of people toward a stranger in need. 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you.... When did we do these things?" Unselfconscious Generosity. "I must have amnesia, Lord. When did I do these things?" And the king will answer them, '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."

There's a wonderful illustration of this "Unselfconscious Generosity" told by Anne Lamott in her book, Traveling Mercies. It's a story about a man named Ken. Ken has AIDS - and a partner who recently died of it. Whoa - speaking of "the least of these who are members of my family." In our culture, you don't get much more least than that. In his grief, Ken looks for community ... a church. "When Brandon died, Jesus filled the hole in my heart that Brandon had left." Still, Ken needs community. He finds one. And over the first few weeks, a physically ravaged and emaciated Ken tells his new friends at the church, "I would gladly pay any price for what I have now, which is Jesus, and you."

Now, understandably but regrettably, not everyone is happy to have Ken in their midst. A woman in the choir, Ranola is one of those unhappy parishioners. Lamott describes Ranola as "large and beautiful and jovial and black and as devout as can be, and she has been a little standoffish toward Ken. She has always looked at him with confusion, when she looks at him at all.... She was raised in the South by Baptists who taught her that his way of life-that he-was an abomination. It is hard for her to break through this.... But Ken has come to church almost every week for the last year and won almost everyone over. He finally misses a couple of Sundays when he got too weak, and then a month ago he was back, weighing almost no pounds, his face ... lopsided, as if he'd had a stroke. Still, during the prayers of the people, he talks joyously of his life and his decline, of grace and redemption, of how safe and happy he feels these days.

"So on this one particular Sunday, for the first hymn, the so-called Morning Hymn, we sang 'Jacob's Ladder,' which goes, 'Every rung goes higher, higher,' while ironically, Ken can't even stand up. But he sings away sitting down, with the hymnal in his lap. And then when it comes time for the second hymn, the Fellowship Hymn, we were to sing 'His Eye Is on the Sparrow.' The pianist is playing and the whole congregation has risen - only Ken remains seated, holding the hymnal in his lap-and we begin to sing, 'Why should I feel discouraged? Why do the shadows fall?' And Ranola watches Ken rather skeptically for a moment, and then her face begins to melt and contort like his, and she goes to his side and bends down to lift him up-this white rag doll, this scarecrow. She holds him next to her, draped over and against her like a child while they sing."

Here is where this Gospel is taking me: of all the professions of faith Ranola made in her life, of all the hymns she sang, of all the prayers she prayed, of all the gifts she shared ... if this story of the Last Judgment, this final story of Jesus before he died ... if this story has any meaning at all ... it is that Ranola comes as close to the heart of God as she'll likely be this side of the Kingdom. So close to the heart of God as she supports Ken, "one of the least of these who are members of my family...."

Most definitely, theology and morality have their place. Of course they do. Our theology, the way we talk about God, informs our morality, the way we act as children of God. But maybe simple humanity trumps theology and morality. In that same way St. Paul has in mind as he writes, "And meanwhile, faith hope and love abide, these three, and the greatest of these is love. "

Now, I don't want to let the morning pass without mentioning the fact that this is Stewardship Sunday - a day when we make our pledge of commitment to God's work here at Grace. I want to emphasize two things: First, I understand this is a tenuous economy and I don't know the thinking of the Finance Committee, but they should know as they prepare a budget, I will not accept a raise in salary. Not only do I have a wonderful job ... I belong to a loving community. Everyone is not so fortunate. Thus, I am rich beyond measure.

And second: perhaps we all have legitimate reasons to cut back on our support to the work of the church. That being said, Nel and I are going to increase our giving, if only modestly. The economy is weak, our God is mighty. And so I challenge you to increase your giving - if only modestly. Discover the strength of our God ... who will not let you down. I'm thinking you will be as fulfilled in your unselfconscious generosity as was Ranola as she supported Ken - this white rag doll, this scarecrow; the same Ken whom Jesus declares, "is the least of these who is a member of my family." May God bless your generous instincts ... that you might continue to be a blessing to others!