Matthew 25:32-46

by

Pepper L. Bauer

"I should have my head examined!" In frustration, Ann ran her hand through her damp, short, salt and pepper hair. She felt like she was baking in her car. The temperature was hovering around 90 degrees and sweat was trickling down between her shoulder blades. It was driving her nuts. More accurately, everything was driving her nuts. She looked at her reflection in the rear view mirror. "Why do I do this to myself?"

Ann thought about her destination. She was on her way to her volunteer job at a food pantry. She had been taking time out of her life every Thursday for fifteen years to help out. Usually she didn’t mind the routine. Sometimes though, when things were building up in her life, she felt like it was just one more chore.

As she approached the church, Ann saw that a line of pantry clients had already formed outside the door. It snaked out to the parked cars. "That’s all we need," She fumed. "We don’t open for an hour. Why do they come so darn early!"

Ann decided to avoid the crowd and park in the back of the church. Considering the mood she was in, it wouldn’t be a good idea to try to be sociable yet. She needed to work off some of the tension she was feeling. Ann slipped down the back steps. Some other volunteers were already downstairs setting up tables. She pitched in.

For the next half an hour, Ann labored non-stop. The activity helped defuse some of her stress. She relaxed. She always felt better after being at the church awhile. When she was at home, all Ann could think about was the work she had piling up there. In the back of her mind, there was always a little voice nagging her to stay home and work on her own house.

Soon it was time to open the doors and let in the multitude. Ann flinched as they pressed around her clamoring for a number. Part of her job was to sign people in and give them a number marking the order of their arrival. She could hear them shouting, "I was here before you." "No, I was first." Ann closed her eyes, and rubbed her forehead. She could feel the seeds of a headache being sown.

Ann recognized most of the persons in line. Many of them were old friends. As the crowd jostled for position, she noticed a new face at the back of the throng. He seemed unkempt. Long hair, untrimmed beard framed strangely hypnotic eyes. Amidst all the confusion, he seemed completely at peace. Their eyes met. He smiled.

Ann smiled back at the stranger and suddenly felt a little less anxious. He was so different. He didn’t seem concerned about being first, or how long it would take to get his food. As he approached the sign-up desk, another volunteer leaned over Ann’s shoulder and hissed in her ear, "Look at that bum. Be sure to put a bar of soap in his box." She could hear laughter behind her.

Ann felt irritated. Catty comments always bothered her, but in the case of this person, they seemed unusually offensive. In all honesty, his clothes were old and torn and he did seem messier than the norm. However, she sensed a quiet dignity surrounding him like a cloak. He seemed special.

Finally, everyone was settled in the basement and registered. An employee from the Co-operative Extension Service nutrition program was giving a lecture. Some people were listening to the lesson; others were sorting through piles of second hand clothes while waiting their turn.

The newcomer moved among the clients talking quietly with them. He seemed to be touching them; comforting them somehow. Ann furtively watched him. She could hear voices behind her. "I wish he’d sit down. He gives me the willies." She winced. She wondered if they realized how mean-spirited their comments sounded.

An elderly woman approached the table to pick up her box of food. Instantly, the stranger was at her side. "I’ll carry your box for you." He looked deeply into her eyes. She beamed. A volunteer piped up, "Sit down, you’ll lose your turn. Quit bothering people."

The man slowly turned his head, and with piercing, gold flecked eyes scanned the room, searching for the speaker. When he pinpointed the woman, his mesmerizing stare seemed to strip her soul naked. He spoke quietly. "I don’t believe I’m bothering her. If I bother you, perhaps you should search your heart." He gazed at her intently.

Feeling uncomfortable, the volunteer turned away and busied herself in another part of the room. The Good Samaritan picked up the food box and headed for the basement door, the elder happily tagging along.

Ann readied the new client’s box of food. Where was he? He seemed to be taking his own sweet time returning to the pantry.

Ann stealthily climbed the steps and peeked out the front door. The unusual man was animatedly talking with some of the pantry patrons in the parking lot. She could see them laughing with him: such joy in their faces. He suddenly looked in Ann's direction and she felt her spine tingle. Embarrassed and feeling somewhat like a voyeur, she turned and scurried back down the steps.

Soon, the stranger reappeared. His face radiated such a loving smile that Ann felt her self-consciousness melt away. She called him over to the table to give him his box of food. He reached over to take the parcel from her and their fingers made contact. He looked intensely into her eyes. Warmth infused Ann’s hands and flowed up the arms, spreading throughout her body. Her worries, tension, and irritability all seemed to evaporate.

As the man turned away, Ann glimpsed something peculiar on his palms. "What was that?" she thought as he started climbing the stairs.

Suddenly, Ann had an overwhelming longing to see his hands. Those marks: they looked like scars. Her stomach tightened. She had a peculiar feeling about all this. She raced around the table and headed for the staircase.

Ann reached the front doors, banged them open, and raced into the parking lot. It was imperative that she talk to this person. She was frantic to touch him again: to see his hands. The blazing summer sun beat down on the deserted blacktop, the heat searing her soles. She looked in the parked cars, desperately searching for the stranger. He was nowhere in sight. It was as if he had disappeared.

Ann sat down heavily on the front steps of the church and put her face in her hands. God, she felt so tired. What was she doing out here? She must be going crazy.

Ann raised her eyes and stared out at the horizon. A Bible verse from Matthew kept running through her mind. "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

Ann shook her head in exasperation. She had to get a grip on herself.

A fluttering flash of color in her peripheral vision attracted Ann’s attention. Turning, she peered closer at the lawn, and stiffened. The hair rose on her arms like soldiers coming to attention.

Unbidden, a cleansing waterfall of tears flowed down Ann's face. On the grass lie a very large, discolored, antique nail; a magnificent butterfly rested peacefully on the stains, sunning its resplendent wings.