When did we see you?

I woke up Sunday morning with this passage on my mind:

"When did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?"

That's toward the end of Jesus' final teaching, before the last supper and crucifixion, as recorded in the Gospel of Matthew 25.  

Not quite the end. The very end is this: 

"When did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?"

He will reply: "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me. 

Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.

I grew up in a church tradition that took doctrine seriously: make sure you get the details right. My tradition also focused on definitions of personal behavior. Some things are sin. Some are not. Don't confuse the two. 

So as a kid I found that passage in Matthew 25 puzzling and alarming. In a way that's stll the case. Jesus seems to say we'll be judged, not for believing the right thing or avoiding sin but on how we care for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the sick, those in prison. 

Those who fail to help "the least of these" will be told "depart from me." 

Jim Wallis podcast, Feb. 20, 2025
Stand Up for Jesus and the Stranger

They'll be asking that question: "When did we see you?"  
This week I listened to a podcast that focused on a lawsuit regarding the right of churches and faith communities to obey Matthew 25. Podcast host Jim Wallis, faculty director of the Georgetown University Center for Faith and Justice, was joined by Kelsi Brown Corkran, lead lawyer in the case, and Reverend Carlos Malave, president of the Latino Christian National Network (LCNN), one of the organizational plaintiffs. 

As the initial court filing explains: 

 1. Plaintiffs in this challenge are 12 national denominational bodies and representatives, 4 regional denominational bodies, and 11 denominational and interdenominational associations, all rooted in the Jewish and Christian faiths. Plaintiffs and their members are Baptist, Brethren, Conservative Jewish, Episcopalian, Evangelical, Mennonite, Quaker, Pentecostal, Presbyterian, Reconstructionist Jewish, Reform Jewish, Unitarian Universalist, United Methodist, Zion Methodist, and more. They bring this suit unified on a fundamental belief: Every human being, regardless of birthplace, is a child of God worthy of dignity, care, and love. Welcoming the stranger, or immigrant, is thus a central precept of their faith practices. 

2. The Torah lays out this tenet 36 times, more than any other teaching: “The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as one of your citizens; you shall love them as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 19:34). In the Gospels, Jesus Christ not only echoes this command, but self-identifies with the stranger: “For I was hungry, and you gave me food, I was thirsty, and you gave me drink, I was a stranger, and you welcomed me” (Matthew 25:35). Plaintiffs’ religious scripture, teaching, and traditions offer clear, repeated, and irrefutable unanimity on their obligation to embrace, serve, and defend the refugees, asylum seekers, and immigrants in their midst without regard to documentation or legal status. 

3. Recognizing the importance of communal religious practices “to the well-being of people and the communities of which they are a part,” the Department of Homeland Security (“DHS”) for over 30 years substantially restricted immigration enforcement action in or near places of worship. Although DHS has statutory authority to conduct a variety of enforcement actions—such as conducting stops and interrogations, serving process and other orders, and executing immigration arrests and raids without judicial warrant—DHS’s longstanding “sensitive locations” (or “protected areas”) policy provided that Immigration and Customs Enforcement (“ICE”) and Customs and Border Protection (“CBP”) would do so at or near places of worship only under exigent circumstances or with prior written, high-level supervisory approval. 

4. On January 20, 2025, DHS abruptly reversed course and rescinded the sensitive locations policy. Disavowing the need for any “bright line rules regarding where our immigration laws are permitted to be enforced,” the Rescission Memo instead directs ICE and CBP officers to “use [their] discretion along with a healthy dose of common sense” in deciding whether to conduct immigration enforcement actions at places of worship, during religious ceremonies, and at other sensitive locations. DHS’s website features a news article stating that ICE agents understand the rescission “to free them up to go after more illegal immigrants.”

The hearing is scheduled for Friday April 4. 

I'll be praying for the outcome of the case this week. But threats to the least of these go far beyond fear of raids in places of worship.  

On Friday a federal appeals court rejected a lower court order blocking further cuts at USAID (the U.S. Agency for International Development.) The same day, the Trump administration announced plans to eliminate USAID, with all employees terminated sometime before September 2. 

DOGE and Trump administration accusations against USAID have been many, often voiced on social media, with scant evidence of waste or fraud.  

In December 2024, USAID was one of 6 US agencies to earn a gold certificate in Results for America's evidence-based program: Invest in What Works Federal Standard of Excellence. Only 2 agencies earned the higher platinum award: the Millennium Challenge Corporation (also a US foreign aid agency) and the Department of Education (another target for dissolution). By contrast, the US military budget has never completed a successful audit. In 2018, Congress required the Department of Defense to undergo a yearly audit. By November 2024, DOD had failed the 7th audit in  a row. According to a General Accountability office report: 

DOD financial management has been on our High-Risk List since 1995. DOD’s spending makes up about half of the federal government’s discretionary spending. Its physical assets comprise almost 68 percent of the federal government’s physical assets. DOD has not yet received an audit opinion on its annual department-wide financial statements. It has been unable to accurately account for and report on its spending or physical assets.

While DOD represents half of all discretionary US government spending, and 13% of total spending, since it's start USAID has been just a tiny fraction of the US budget. In 2024 the total International Affairs budget was 1.4% of the US budget. USAID, less than a 1/4 of that, was .3% of the national budget.    
The original intent behind USAID was to slow the spread of global communism. Over time, USAID's efforts to alleviate poverty, curb disease and promote democracy yielded positive long-term relationships. Through USAID, the US helped train decision-makers world wide and built avenues of diplomacy and commerce that have benefited our nation and others while saving millions of lives.  Loss of USAID will harm our national reputation, will mean lost income for farmers and has already jeopardized faith-based organizations that have partnered with USAID in providing services around the globe. 

Concerned infectious disease researchers developed an impact tracker to document in real time the impact of cuts to USAID with "up-to-date calculations of increases in mortality, disease spread, and healthcare costs for HIV/AIDS, TB, malaria, pneumonia, diarrhea, neglected tropical diseases, and malnutrition."

The Impact Metrics Dashboard "visualizes the human impact of funding changes for aid and support organizations. Each metric represents real people affected by policy decisions."

The dashboard provides estimated deaths, to date, caused by aid disruption, and projected estimates for 2025 if aid is not resumed. It also provides the estimated interval between excess deaths, a sobering reminder that time is short and the cost in human lives will be high. 

In Jesus' parable, those who failed to help asked "When did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?"

There are two implied excuses: we didn't see the need. We didn't see it was YOU, Jesus, that we refused to help. 

I find myself wrestling with difficult questions:

• Can I claim I don't see the harm taking place?
• Can I claim I'm not responsible?

None of us can know all that's happening around the world. 

None of us can solve it all. 

But we all are called to at least try to see, to try to act, to try to help.

For me, it starts with prayer and scripture.

The next step is to do the work of struggling to see. I'd prefer not to. I'd prefer to look away.

But in Jesus' parable, failing to see is no excuse. And once we see, we're expected to act.

So -what to do?

Donate to aid organizations that have lost funding? There are thousands, many small and very local. Some of the larger are mentioned here. 

Letters and calls to legislators? Refugees International offers a place to start. 

Hands Off Day of Action April 5

Organizations across the country are planning a Hands Off Day of Action on April 5th to speak back against policy changes that are harming our neighbors. 

There's one in West Chester, PA, not far from my home. Should I participate? Should I invite others?

In a world where information and misinformation fly past us at a dizzying pace, it's hard to really see. It's even more difficult to know how to respond. 

My daily prayer is "Lord, show me."

Show me what's true, and not true. Show me what it means to follow you.  Show me the places of need where I can best use my time, opportunity, resources and voice in ways that honor you. Help me see clearly. 

Help me see you.

Christ of the Breadlines, Fritz Eichenberg, 1951, New York

An Plea for Mercy

The word mercy is central to the season of Lent. In many churches, Lenten services start with a recitation of the decalogue (the ten commandments) with the words "Lord have mercy" after each. 

In many, the Kyrie Elsison is sung: 

Lord have mercy, 
Christ have mercy,
Lord have mercy. 

That word, "mercy", captured national attention this winter in the wake of Bishop Mariann Budde's homily at President Trump's inaugural prayer service at Washington National Cathedral on January 22. She spoke of the foundations of unity: honoring the inherent dignity of every human being; honesty in both private conversation and public discourse; and humility. 

And she closed with a short, gentle plea for mercy: 

Let me make one final plea, Mr. President. Millions have put their trust in you. As you told the nation yesterday, you have felt the providential hand of a loving God. In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now. There are transgender children in both Republican and Democrat families who fear for their lives.

And the people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings; who labor in our poultry farms and meat-packing plants; who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants and work the night shift in hospitals—they may not be citizens or have the proper documentation, but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes, and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches, mosques and synagogues, gurdwara, and temples.

Have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away. Help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were once strangers in this land.

Some who heard Bishop Budde's words were outraged, as was the president himself. Some members of the US House of Representatives even introduced a resolution of condemnation. 

Some church leaders, including Catholic priests, the United Church of Christ president, and the Presbyterian Church (USA) praised her for her courageous witness and fidelity to the words of Jesus. The  United Methodist Church Committee on Faith and Order sent her an official letter of support:

In The United Methodist Church we encourage our bishops to live out “a prophetic commitment for the transformation of the Church and the world.” We say, “the role of the bishop is to be a prophetic voice for justice in a suffering and conflicted world” (The Book of Discipline ¶403.1.d). We believe this is in keeping with the prophetic tradition of Amos who encouraged us to “let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream” and Micah who told us that what the Lord requires is justice, kindness and humility before God. We believe this is in keeping with the ministry of Jesus who took special care for the least. We witnessed such episcopal leadership in you this week. You inspired and encouraged us. As a committee we found your sermon profoundly rooted in the prophetic tradition of our shared Christian faith, while being delivered with gentleness and respect. We are pleased to call you a friend in Christ and offer our prayers.

Some from Episcopal backgrounds found Bishop Budde's words unremarkable:

If you have ever attended an Episcopal Church ordination service, Bishop Budde’s sermon would not have been surprising or different. The Prayer service was, in essence, like an ordination.

The request Bishop Budde made to President Trump at the end of her sermon was not a political one. It was a request made directly from the Holy Bible in which God charges, first the leaders of the Jewish people and then also Christians, to Love God and in so doing, care for the alien resident, widows, children, the homeless, the hungry, to clothe the naked, and, yes, visit the prisoner.

Asking the President of the United States of America to consider these biblical commands in the course of carrying out the duties of his office was not a political nor disrespectful action. It was an act of recognizing his position.

Voices from the pews are more difficult to document, but I know from my own conversations with friends that some life-long followers of Christ heard Bishop Budde lambasted from pulpits in their own churches and quietly resolved not to return. And I know from social media posts and reports from Episcopal and national press that some Christians who left their increasingly right-wing politicized churches have since visited or are considering joining Episcopal churches.

I also know there are others, in Episcopal and other churches, who urged church leaders to rebuke Bishop Budde and her use of the pulpit in implying criticism of God's chosen leader or using the inaugural homily to say anything that could be interpreted as critical of the president-elect.

While it's been two months since that inaugural homily, it continues to echo through social media, church communities and quiet conversations. In a sense, that sermon has become a Rorschach inkblot test: an assessment tool that reveals our partisan leanings, our view of scripture, what it means to obey God's call and our understanding of the role of faith in political discourse. 

In the questions raised and the swirl of responses, I find myself praying for mercy. 

For our nation. For our world. 

For our churches. For our fractured Christian witness. 

I'll be writing more about the word "mercy" and about Christian witness in this divided political season.  

For now, if you haven't watched the sermon, please take a few minutes to do so. 

What do you hear? What do you see? What do you pray?

Lord have mercy.