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. Matthew, 25th chapter

I can’t quite remember when I first saw that bumper sticker that seemed to take the world by storm: “practice random kindness & senseless acts of beauty.”  I still get a warm feeling when I hear it.

It’s easy to understand its appeal.  It does imply, after all, that we really can make a difference in the world — despite our feelings of impotence and inadequacy. But what kind of difference does it imply we can make?

It reminds me of the story about the guy who keeps pulling people out of the river.  One by one they keep floating downstream in front of him, and one by one he pulls them out — until, that is, he finally decides maybe he should walk upstream to find out who keeps throwing these folks in the river.

Random kindness might catch a few folks floating down the river and safely pull them to shore, but it takes something altogether different to deal with the jerk who’s throwing them in. So how would Jesus weigh in on this?

This week’s story from Matthew 25:31-46 might easily be interpreted as ‘random kindness’ — the accidental care and concern for those who hunger or thirst, or who are lost or naked or sick or imprisoned. But that interpretation would miss the story’s mandate to cultivate an intentional pattern of life committed to the least and the lost — for only intentionality decreases the likelihood of failing to serve Christ in others.

There’s really nothing random about kingdom work. It grows increasingly dissatisfied with the jerk up the stream who keeps throwing folks to their certain death in the river. And it’s this posture toward needless suffering that makes kingdom work inherently ‘political’ — because it’s not primarily interested in healing the hurts that afflict us, but rather healing the sin that causes the hurt in the first place.

And that takes time and intention and intimacy — opting for committed care over random kindness.