Christ the King

 

The livestream appears not to have worked today, but here is the recording of the sermon, as per usual:

Today is the very last Sunday of the Christian year, and it is the day on which we celebrate the feast of Christ the King.

I wonder what sort of images go through your head when you hear the word “King”.
Often, one things of pomp and circumstance,
the gold State Coach, jewels, servants, money, royal weddings….
Or perhaps you think of our present King, looking rather elderly and ravaged by his ongoing cancer treatment, poor man.

His role, of course, is largely ceremonial, and there are many who think a monarchy is an outdated form of government,
but I tell you one thing,
I’d rather be represented by a hereditary monarch who is a-political than by a political head of state for whom I did not vote, and whose views were anathema to me!
But it hasn’t always been like that.

We think of good, brave kings, like Edward the Third or Henry the Fifth:
“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more”.
We think of Elizabeth at Tilbury:
“Although I have the body of a weak and feeble woman,
I have the heart and stomach of a King, and a King of England, too,
and think foul scorn that Parma, or Spain, or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm.”
Or Richard the Lionheart –
I’m dodging about rather here –
who forsook England to fight against Muslims,
which he believed was God’s will for him.
Hmm, not much change there, then.

But there have been weak kings,
poor kings,
mad kings, like poor Henry the Third,
kings that have been deposed, like Henry the Third or Edward the Second,
kings that have seized the crown from others, like Henry Tudor grabbing it at the Battle of Bosworth.

The monarchy may be embroiled in scandal just now, with the whole Epstein affair rubbing off badly, particularly on to the former Duke of York, but it is very far from the first to do so.
Think of the various Hanoverian kings, the Georges,
most of whom were endlessly in the equivalent of the tabloid press,
and cartoonists back then were far, far ruder than they dare to be today.
You may have seen some of them in museums or in history books.
The ones in the history books, incidentally, are the more polite ones.

And that’s just the British monarchy! I am mostly quoting examples from it as it’s the one I know best. Nevertheless, many of the modern European monarchies have had their fair share of scandals in recent years, and of course there have been glorious and inglorious monarchies all over the world, from the Tsars of Russia to the rules of the various African tribes. Chaka, for instance, or Lobengula, and others too numerous to mention.

But traditionally, the role of a king was to defend and protect his people, to lead them into battle, if necessary;
to give justice, and generally to look after their people.
They may have done this well,
or they may have done it badly,
but that was what they did.
If you’ve read C S Lewis’ The Horse and His Boy,
you might remember that King Lune tells Shasta,
who is going to be king after him:
“For this is what it means to be a king:
to be first in every desperate attack
and last in every desperate retreat,
and when there's hunger in the land
(as must be now and then in bad years)
to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”

And when we think of Christ as King,
we come up against that great paradox, for Christ was, and is, above all, the Servant King.
No birth with state-of-the-art medical facilities for him,
but a stable in an inn-yard.
No golden carriage, but a donkey.
No crown, save that made of thorns, and no throne, except the Cross.

And yet, St Paul says of him, as we heard in our reading from Colossians: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.”

And yet, this glorious, wonderful King faced a shameful death on the cross. In Luke’s account, which we’ve just heard read, the inscription “The King of the Jews” seems to have been put up as a sneer – “He saved others, himself he cannot save!” No mention here that it was put up at Pilate’s orders – maybe it wasn’t.

But the thing is, of course, that although he was subjected to the most shameful death a person could have – Roman citizens were never crucified, much too humiliating; crucifixion was reserved for the “natives”; although he was subjected to this humiliating death, he didn’t stay dead! He was raised from the dead, and we believe, as we say in the Creed, that he will come again in glorious majesty, and his kingdom will have no end.

And it is this Kingdom that he preached while he was here on earth.
That was the Good News –
that the Kingdom of God is at hand.
He told us lots of stories to illustrate what the kingdom was going to be like,
many of which would have upset their hearers as they turned their preconceived ideas on their heads, but nevertheless
it is worth giving up everything for.
Jesus showed us how “the blind receive their sight,
the lame walk,
the lepers are cleansed,
the deaf hear,
the dead are raised,
and the poor have good news brought to them.”

Jesus does lead us into battle, yes, but it is a battle
“against the rulers,
against the authorities,
against the cosmic powers of this present darkness,
against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”
And through his Holy Spirit, Jesus gives us the armour to enable us to fight, the helmet of salvation,
the breastplate of righteousness,
et cetera, et cetera.

Jesus requires that His followers forgive others, everything, all the time.
Even the unforgivable things.
the abusers, the tyrants, the warlords….
Even those who vote Reform,
or who spread vicious lies about asylum seekers.
We may not hold on to anger and hatred,
for that is not the way of the Kingdom.
We must, of course, do what we can to prevent such atrocities;
we must strive for justice and peace,
but we must do so without anger, without hatred, without wishing evil on those who perpetrate such things.
Which, of course, is only actually possible through the Holy Spirit working in us!

Jesus’ Kingdom is not of this world.
He is the king who rides on a donkey,
the king who requires his followers to use the weapon of forgiveness,
the king who surrendered to the accusers,
the scourge,
and the cross.

But he is also, and let us not forget this,
he is also the King who was raised on high,
who triumphed over the grave,
who sits at the right hand of God from whence, we say we believe, he will come to judge the living and the dead.

So are we going to follow this King?

Are we going to turn away from this world, and its values, and instead embrace the values of the Kingdom?
I tell you this, my friends, most of us live firmly clinging to the values of this world.
I include myself –
don’t think I’m any better than you, because I can assure you, I’m not, and if I didn’t, Robert would soon tell you!
We all cling to the values of this world,
and few of us truly embrace the values of the Kingdom.

But if Christ is King, since Christ is King,
then we must be aware that he is our King.
If we are Jesus’ people –
and if you have never said “Yes” to Jesus, now would be a terrific time to do so –
if we are truly following Jesus with our whole hearts and minds,
then let us remember our King calls out to us from the cross and invites us to follow him and to pray fervently for the coming of his kingdom –
• a kingdom which welcomes those whom the rest of the world might find most unlikely followers,
• a kingdom in which we can ask for forgiveness from those whom we have hurt, and come to forgive those who have hurt us.

As we reach the end of one church year
and look to the beginning of a new one,
may the one whom we know to be King of the universe and ruler of our lives guide us in our journeys of welcome and forgiveness
that our churches may include all whom God loves,
and our hearts may find healing and wholeness. Amen!