Uncommon Kingship

Long live the King! Happy New Year! Maybe these phrases seem out-of-place to you or a bit too early, but for our purposes today, they are right on time. Today is Christ the King Sunday, a day in which we gather together to acknowledge that Jesus is Lord. It is also the last day of the Christian calendar year so in a sense, it is the Christian New Year’s Eve, before we prepare to begin again next Sunday with the first Sunday in Advent.

Where did Christ the King Sunday originate? Well, it all began back in 1925 when Pope Pius XI sought to counter the destructive forces of the modern world: secularism in the west, fascism in Italy and Spain, communism in Russia, and soon-to-be Nazism in Germany. With all the many different allegiances, the Pope set aside a day for Christians to declare that Jesus Christ is Lord and King.

But what kind of King is Christ? And what kind of kingdom?

Today we return to the gospel of Matthew and find ourselves once again in the midst of Jesus telling a series parables about the kingdom of God.

Jesus says that in the end all nations will be gathered before the Son of Man and that he will separate the sheep from the goats. The sheep will be blessed because when he was in need, they took care of him. But the sheep, the ones sitting by the right hand, don’t seem to remember doing any of this for Jesus. They ask “when did we see you hungry or thirsty or naked?” To which Jesus then says, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”

Then Jesus looks at the goats and curses them for they failed to give anything to those in need. If only they had known, I’m sure they would have… right?

I used to love watching Beauty and the Beast when I was younger, mainly because of the scene where the Beast gives Belle the library. It was an awesome library. But back before all of that, you might remember the very first scene of the movie. An older woman appears at the castle door and asks the young prince for help. Seeing this hunched over woman, the prince refuses to help her. Upon his refusal, she reveals herself to be a beautiful princess. The prince falls before her begging for forgiveness. He would have helped her, if only he had known she was a princess. But it is too late. Because the prince didn’t help her, she places a curse on him by turning him into a beast.

Sheep and goats. Both were in the presence of God all along and had no idea. Apparently through their whole life God failed to make flashy appearances. God didn’t go on a stadium tour. God didn’t have a local book signing. God didn’t campaign for any political offices. God didn’t star in a blockbuster film or show up in a winning football team. As John Mark McMillan sings in his song Baby Son, “We thought You'd come with a crown of gold A string of pearls and a cashmere robe We thought You’d clinch an iron fist And rain like fire on the politics.”

And yet, God showed up in other places. Places we, well.... places we sometimes hope to avoid. Places that Jesus defines as least.

Notice what Jesus describes as least here: illness, imprisonment, naked, homeless, and hungry. Sherry Deets says both the sheep and the goats “gave next to no thought to their behavior or disposition toward “the least of these” because those persons just did not matter. And so along these lines, another way to think about “the least of these” is “those of no account,”... “those to whom we give little thought,” perhaps even “those whom we disdain.”

Infant holy, Infant lowly, For His bed a cattle stall; Oxen lowing, little knowing Christ, the Babe, is Lord of all.

What kind of king identifies himself with the least? What kind of king is willing to disguise his kingship among orphans and refugees and victims of abuse? What kind of king says that in our care of these, we are caring for God?

This is is who our real allegiance belongs to. What if our discipleship to our Lord was as strong as our discipleship to our careers, our image, our fandom, our patriotism, and our possessions? I remember my professor of discipleship saying to us once, “if Jesus isn’t Lord of your life, I can assure you something else will be.” There are plenty of things in life that deserve our attention, plenty of things that God works in and through, plenty of things that are meaningful and fun. But there is only One who deserves our worship, our praise, and the role of Lord over our lives.

And when we serve Jesus as Lord and share in God’s kingdom, everything turns upside down. Nadia Bolz Weber says “being part of Christ’s bizarre kingdom looks more like being thirsty and having someone you don’t even like give you water than it looks like polishing your own crown. It looks more like giving my three extra coats to the trinity of junkies on the corner than it looks like fur-trimmed robes.”

The early church were called people of the Way before they were called Christians. They were people who sought to imitate and live the Way that Christ did.

In her book, Beyond Belief, Princeton Professor Elaine Pagels writes that “what made the early church so compelling to outsiders was not its theology, but its radical love for people who were hurting. Followers of Jesus adopted babies who had been abandoned. They shared food and medicine with prisoners. They bought coffins, dug graves and provided a dignified burial for the destitute whose bodies would have been dumped outside of the city. And when the plague ravaged communities throughout the Roman Empire, they shocked their pagan neighbors by caring for the sick and dying, putting themselves at risk of catching the deadly disease. They did not ask if a person was a fellow Christian, they did not ask if the person shared the same political opinions, they did not question whether someone deserved help. They simply treated each person as if he or she were Jesus.”

What does it look like, really look like, for us to declare Christ as King? What does it mean for us to look into one another’s eyes and see the face of Christ?

I wonder if it looks something like:

I was hungry, and you volunteered to serve me a meal.

I was a student in a school with a worn-down playground, and you gave me a place to swing.

I needed a place to lay my head, and you housed me within the walls of your church.

I wasn’t able to drive, and you gave me transportation.

I was a teenager with no place to go, and you have me a warm bed to sleep in.

I was an orphan, and you adopted me.

I was in pain and you took me to the doctor.

I only saw my scars but you told me I was beautiful.

I was anxious and you held my hand.

I was losing my memory and you sat and listened to me.

I am a mother holding her family together and you befriended me.

I was released from prison and you gave me a second chance.

I was lonely and you brought me flowers,

I was in danger of dropping out of school and you mentored me,

I was addicted and you provided recovery programs for me,

I was a victim of discrimination and you became my advocate.

I was grieving and you wept with me.

I was all of these things and more, and you bent down and saw the face of Christ in me.

This, this is Christ, the King, Whom shepherds guard and angels sing: Haste, haste to bring Him laud, The Babe, the Son of Mary!

Long live the king of the towel and the basin, the wine and the bread, the healing in the hem of the robe, the friend of sinners, and the lord of us all.