Today, as the season of Pentecost draws to a close, we celebrate the feast of Christ the King. A relatively new fixture on the Church's calendar, this feast is fairly controversial. On the one hand, it seeks to remind us of Jesus Christ - the cosmic King who will come to be our judge; and to gather us up for eternity. On the other, there are many (and I'm not unconvinced by this argument) who find the paradigm of king and kingdom completely unhelpful in the context of who Jesus really is.
Kings - and Queens for that matter - have not traditionally been loving, kind, fair folk. More often than not, we learn that they have benefitted richly while others have suffered. More often than not, we learn that they were (or are) wholly unable to be good, just rulers. More often than not we can refer back to "absolute power corrupts absolutely," or to some Orwellian image of power. So for us as Anglicans, for whom that third leg of the stool - reason or experience - is very important, that paradigm of king and kingdom just doesn't seem like Jesus.
Because it's not.
When we think about Jesus, if we're honest with ourselves, we're thinking about someone who was nothing like these kings and queens of the past. Instead, Jesus is someone who touched and healed lepers; who ate with tax collectors and prostitutes; who healed the sick; fed the hungry; and generally broke all kinds of rules about what was socially acceptable. This is someone who, in Matthew's Gospel, refers to "the least of these" as either his "brothers" or "members of my family," depending on your translations (brother is more accurate). This is someone who doesn't put distance between himself and the poor, the outcast, or the oppressed, but instead goes out to meet them and welcome them in.
If we are to be his sheep, part of his flock, members of his kingdom, then it's reasonable to expect that this is what we ought to do, too. That we ought to disregard social practice as much as he did. It's reasonable to expect that in this kingdom - where Christ is king - that life looks different. It's reasonable to expect that it is a place where everyone is fed, where everyone is loved, and where everyone has what they need.
I don't love the paradigm of king and kingdom. But I do love Jesus - who rules over us with a love that constantly calls us out. Out of our comfort zones; out of the doors of the church; out of our patterns of life - and into the presence and the lives of other people - so that we might seek and serve Christ in each one of them. So that we can help to build the kingdom now. A place that is a little more just - and peaceful - and loving each day - because we, ourselves, are working to be just a little more just, peaceful, and loving each day in our own words and actions.
This is not a King who came to sit on a distant throne - but one who comes near to us; who touches us, waits with us, and dies for us.
Take my heart, it is thine own, it shall be thy royal throne.
Kings - and Queens for that matter - have not traditionally been loving, kind, fair folk. More often than not, we learn that they have benefitted richly while others have suffered. More often than not, we learn that they were (or are) wholly unable to be good, just rulers. More often than not we can refer back to "absolute power corrupts absolutely," or to some Orwellian image of power. So for us as Anglicans, for whom that third leg of the stool - reason or experience - is very important, that paradigm of king and kingdom just doesn't seem like Jesus.
Because it's not.
When we think about Jesus, if we're honest with ourselves, we're thinking about someone who was nothing like these kings and queens of the past. Instead, Jesus is someone who touched and healed lepers; who ate with tax collectors and prostitutes; who healed the sick; fed the hungry; and generally broke all kinds of rules about what was socially acceptable. This is someone who, in Matthew's Gospel, refers to "the least of these" as either his "brothers" or "members of my family," depending on your translations (brother is more accurate). This is someone who doesn't put distance between himself and the poor, the outcast, or the oppressed, but instead goes out to meet them and welcome them in.
If we are to be his sheep, part of his flock, members of his kingdom, then it's reasonable to expect that this is what we ought to do, too. That we ought to disregard social practice as much as he did. It's reasonable to expect that in this kingdom - where Christ is king - that life looks different. It's reasonable to expect that it is a place where everyone is fed, where everyone is loved, and where everyone has what they need.
I don't love the paradigm of king and kingdom. But I do love Jesus - who rules over us with a love that constantly calls us out. Out of our comfort zones; out of the doors of the church; out of our patterns of life - and into the presence and the lives of other people - so that we might seek and serve Christ in each one of them. So that we can help to build the kingdom now. A place that is a little more just - and peaceful - and loving each day - because we, ourselves, are working to be just a little more just, peaceful, and loving each day in our own words and actions.
This is not a King who came to sit on a distant throne - but one who comes near to us; who touches us, waits with us, and dies for us.
Take my heart, it is thine own, it shall be thy royal throne.
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