Sunday November 23, 2008 - Pentecost Last, Year A (RCL)
Today is the Sunday
traditionally known as “Christ the King.”
It's the last Sunday of the church year.
We've heard the stories
of Jesus' birth and childhood,
of his baptism and his adult ministry.
We've heard of his death, and his resurrection, and now at last
we come to a celebration
of his reign with God in heaven
at the end
of time.
The idea of Christ as King
is strong in Christian tradition. If you look up into the domes
of many Orthodox churches,
you can see mosaics of Christ, with his hand raised in blessing
reigning
in heaven.
Many Episcopal and Roman Catholic churches
have sculptures of Christ on the cross, not in the agony of death,
but crowned, again,
his hand raised in blessing.
And here at St James our main window shows Christ as King.
So what does it mean to say
that Christ
is King?
For most of us, our experience of kings is fairly limited. The only experience that most of us have
is through the TV
— and especially the endless coverage of the British Royal family.
As we watch TV shows displaying their palaces,
read about their appearances
at society events,
and hear rumors of their butlers' secrets,
it's clear that they live in a world far apart from ours.
So does the idea of Christ the King, reigning over the kingdom of heaven,
have anything to do with us? Is it in any way connected
with our ordinary
lives?
I’ve been preaching about the Old Testament readings the last few weeks. But we’ve also been reading in our gospels a whole series of parables. Think back
to the stories we have heard: stories
of bridesmaids and servants, of sons and farmers. And today
a parable
about food and water
and shelter and clothing, the necessities
of life.
Nothing
could be
more ordinary.
And it is in the realm of the ordinary
that Jesus
is the king,
it is in the realm of the ordinary
that we live out our response
to his kingship.
As citizens of the United States, we are called on
to serve
our country. Most often
that is expressed in terms of political office
or military service.
But we are also
citizens of the kingdom of heaven, and as citizens of the kingdom of heaven,
we are called on
to serve our King, Jesus.
But that service
is not about butlers or bodyguards,
palaces or society events.
That service
is about serving the people
we live among, those who have the least,
rather than those who have the most,
serving ordinary people
in ordinary ways.
Giving food
to those who are hungry,
water
to those who are thirsty,
shelter
to the homeless,
visiting
the lonely and the isolated.
Ordinary things, but the very essentials
of life.
This month we have been responsible for staffing the Smithtown food pantry. When I was there on Monday morning,
we had half a dozen clients.
There was a woman with disabilities who came to get food for herself and her elderly parents,
two women who work as nurses aides and can’t make ends meet, a guy with a young family who recently lost his job as a window cleaner in the city,
and a couple of others.
And it struck me, as I sat there, that these were the sort of people Jesus was talking about, in need of food, water, clothing, shelter, and perhaps above all, love.
When we reach out to them, when we seek
to meet their needs,
we are reaching out to Christ.
And when we do that, Christ in turn reaches out to us,
and welcomes us again
into the kingdom
of heaven.
So, you might ask, does that mean
that we earn our way to heaven?
That if we do enough good deeds,
we'll be sure of a future beyond death with God?
That's a very appealing way to think, the picture of a scale, with good deeds on the one side and bad on the other, and whichever has the greatest weight, wins.
But although that might look like what our parable is saying today, we need to look deeper. We need to read this parable alongside all the other teaching of scripture – and the vast consensus of scripture
is that we can do nothing
to earn our way
to heaven.
Nothing.
Life with God, both here on earth
and after our deaths,
is not based
on what we do
but on what God does.
One what God has done, reaching out to us
in the person of Christ
and rescuing us from the eternal consequences
of what we have done
through Christ's death
on the cross.
And on what God is doing,
reaching out to us still, inviting us into a relationship of love and forgiveness
here and now.
It's a gift, no strings
attached.
So where does that leave our parable today. If you can't earn your way to heaven, what on earth is this about? Why bother with all this messy feeding and sheltering and loving?
Why bother?
Because Christ
has bothered with us.
Because Christ loves us, and if we love Christ, it's bound to make a difference
in our lives.
When you fall in love for the first time,
the world looks different, and it is different, because you act in different ways. You do whatever you can to please the one you love — not because it will somehow get you somewhere, but simply because you love them.
In the same way, something as amazing as God's love for us, and or coming to know that love, should make a difference. The world will look different to us, if we see it through the eyes of love,
through God's love,
and the world will be different, because we will act in different ways. We will express the love of God in the best way we can, by serving Christ,
and according to this parable which he told
not long before he died
the best way serving Christ
is to serve those
who are most in need,
to reach out to them in love
with food and clothing and shelter and friendship.
And it's as we do that,
whether its making donations to the food pantry or serving there,
buying gifts for pick-a-star and adopt-a-family,
writing to your congressman
asking for legislative action in favor of the poor and needy,
whatever ways
we actually do
this serving Christ in our struggling brothers and sisters,
it's then
that we are following Christ's example of service.
Because his sort of kingship
wasn't the sort
that parades round in palaces and on society pages,
but which emptied himself, taking the form of a servant
to die for us.
And when we sing hymns like Onward Christian Soldiers,
following the kingly Christ into war,
it is not military action we are talking about
but war against injustice and oppression
in its everyday expression
right here beside us in Saint James,
it's war against hate and fear
right here in New York.
It's following our servant King,
offering our lives day by day for the sake of others,
loving them with our hearts and minds and souls, and our hands and brains and wallets,
as we love ourselves,
looking forward to the time
when we shall hear from Jesus' lips,
“Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you.”
Amen.
© Raewynne J. Whiteley 2008