I recently finished a paper on the Jewish background of the six acts of charity in Matthew 25:31-46. While I was researching for the paper, I came across the best concrete example of well-handled tension between exegesis and Anabaptist theology that I have seen thus far. For those who don’t know, the Believers Church Bible Commentary is a commentary series written from Anabaptist perspectives (it is also available electronically through Logos). Richard Gardner’s commentary on Matthew from the BCBC is what captured my imagination during my research. Gardner argues that the “least of these of these who are members of my family” (NRSV) are, indeed, the least of Jesus’ disciples. A typical interpretation of the passage is that “the least of these” are the poor of the world and that this is a passage calling Christians to serve those poor. This is the motivation for organizations such as Mennonite Central Committee (see the front page on their website) and World Vision. And yet, if Gardner is correct, these organizations are basing their work on a faulty reading of the text. This is a difficult pill to swallow for me, as I desperately wish to affirm such a powerful text as a motivation for Christians to serve the hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, and imprisoned. And I support the mission of those organizations. Gardner does not leave it there, however, as some other commentators might. He affirms the new understanding of the text, saying “Matthew might not be unhappy with the new frame of reference we have given the story” (363).

In his exegetical section, Gardner argues that, for Matthew, Jesus is judging “all the nations” based on their treatment of “the least” of his disciples, which Gardner uses more broadly than just the twelve. The language of “the least” harkens back to instances where Jesus refers to his disciples as “little ones” (Matt 10:42; 18:6, 10). In Matthew, Jesus only refers to his “brothers” or “family members” when he is identifying his disciples (12:46-50; 23:8-9). Jesus announces in chapter 10 that those who welcome his disciples, even those who offer the disciples a cold drink, will be rewarded (10:40-42). Furthermore, Jesus promises to be present with his disciples until the end of the age (28:20; cf. 18:20). These are the points on the road that get Gardner to come to the conclusion that “the conversation Jesus has with all the nations in the final judgment focuses on the way humankind has responded to Jesus in the person of his disciples, from the greatest to the least of these” (359). His case is solid enough to change my perspective, particularly since other commentators I read use similar arguments.

If this is true, as I mentioned, this delivers a heavy blow to a significant piece of the exegetical basis for Anbaptist social activism. Gardner’s section entitled, “The Text in the Life of the Church,” written regarding Matthew 25:31-46, however, embraces and dismisses this problem in no more than two pages. The first significant issue that Gardner raises is on the sticky point of where the church sees itself in this pericope. If the people of the church view themselves as Jesus’ disciples, then they may see themselves as the persecuted poor, the least of these (such as the fundamentalistic mindset). Christians “represent and embody Jesus in the world” (362). But can we honestly proclaim that message? Gardner asserts, “Insofar as we find ourselves in the role of Jesus’ homeless, wandering disciples, afflicted and in need as we serve as Jesus’ emissaries, we may claim the identity of the least of these. . . . One thinks of volunteers who live and work with the poor of Latin America to protest injustice and to build communities of hope” (ibid.). The church as we know it in the West, however, “more nearly resembles the nations to whom Jesus’ messengers are sent. We are settled communities who must decide how we will receive Jesus” (ibid.). The passage, then, does become a radical call to judgment of the privileged nations, which includes us (the Western church). Furthermore, that judgment should indeed spur us toward action.

Gardner’s second point on the interpretation of this passage is essentially an admission that our social programs falsely use this text, but that it isn’t such a big deal. Afterall, it fits in with the larger biblical context (c.f. Heb 13:2-3), even the larger Matthean context (e.g., the emphasis on love of neighbor in 22:34-40 and 5:43-48), so “[i]f we use the text at hand as an appeal to God’s people to show compassion to all in need, we are going beyond the immediate story, but not beyond the biblical story!” (363)

It seems like a disturbing suggestion for a scholarly exegete to make. If taken to its logical consequences, we can write off the immediate meaning of all kinds of passages because of Scripture’s larger context. And yet, it is an attractive option for me as an Anabaptist. One of the key elements of Anabaptist interpretive method is the “hermeneutics of obedience.” That is, the truth of the text is assessed in so far as it motivates us toward real, active discipleship. Gardner does not completely discard the meaning of the text, but rather helps the reader to see how Mennonite Central Committee’s misinterpretation of the text is nevertheless getting at the purpose of Scripture. If scholarly exegesis dismisses the purpose of Scripture as a whole, then to what end exegesis?