The Son of Mankind
I want to be direct about something suggested poetically before.
In Matthew 25 Christ tells us how the Judgment will go.
He will put his sheep on his right hand. Because they fed him when he was hungry. Dressed him when he was naked. Gave him a place to sleep when he had no home of his own.
The goats he will drive out into the darkness at his left hand.
Both groups, he tells us, will be surprised. The sheep will not think of themselves as having done something particularly virtuous.
“When did we feed you? Clothe you? Takes you in?”
Christ will reply, “Inasmuch as you have done it into the least of these my brethren, you have done it into me.”
Which we take to be a lot of rhetorical flourishes saying, “be charitable to the poor ” Except those times we help the poor are the times we feel ourselves particularly virtuous. None of us would be surprised the Lord gave us credit for our soup kitchen service.
So no. It is not rhetoric. This is literally what will happen. We will get credit for literally clothing naked people.
In other words, for the children we raised. We clothe them in flesh and then in clothing for decades. We feed them for decades. We house them for decades. An infant is the least of us.
Christ is literally saying, “if you raise a child, I will treat you as if you were my own father and mother. What I would do for Mary and Joseph, I will do for you.”
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Rozy
December 21, 2020
Love that perspective! It reinforces that the most important work we will ever do is to raise children. Notwithstanding that some don’t marry or can’t have children–if the desire is there that’s what counts. Similar to what King Benjamin said to his people about wanting to give but being unable to. (Mosiah 4:24)
G.
December 21, 2020
I endorse that clarification
sute
December 21, 2020
Love this.
The childless clarification is interesting because it’s obviously true for a just and merciful God.
But for purpose of the discussion, let’s keep in mind, he didn’t say that. He didn’t say, “You *would* have clothed me and fed me and took me in, *had you* been given the opportunity”.
There’s a lifetime of choices that you can squeeze into, “would have”.
Of course, I’m not sure I qualify for anymore virtue than someone not married with children because my genetics worked out and I dumbfounded my way into marriage.
However, we should also look at the parable of the talents. It’s a bit harsh as well — he didn’t say, “you would have multiplied that talent if given the opportunity”. It said, you had your chance and you blew it because you didn’t want to act on what you were given. There’s no mistaken that there is both an eternal qualitative and eternal quantitative superiority to the impact raising a family has in the here and now and throughout generations. There’s no doubt that time spent changing diapers and calming a panicked baby, etc. is infinitely more valuable than we consider it.
My only point is this is to say if any of us (married and children’d or not) wants to be disciples of Christ we shouldn’t get comfortable pointing to reasons why we are the exception. Mother Theresa (for all the ill heaped on her, I have no way to judge) didn’t point to her chosen infertility as a reason for not having children. She had many nonetheless.
If you’ve been given one talent instead of two of five, you can still multiply that talent. If the analogy here is serving children, then own it and go out and find a way to do it.
The servant with one talent had a pretty reasonable excuse after all. My aunt wanted nothing more than to get married at BYU. Never happened. Left the church. Probably still bitter. She’s made it a goal to be involved in the children of others. If she was let off the hook with the “would have, but…” qualifier, maybe she wouldn’t.
I think the parables do their best work when we apply them uncomfortably. I can think of many ways I’m on team goat.