Gathered and freed

Christ the King 2011
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24; Ps 100; Ephesians 1:15-23; Matthew 25:31-46


I am not wild about kings. Investing too much power in one broken human being feels dangerous to me. I am way too Irish, too filled with my ancestors’ tales of being abused by people who acted “in the name of the King.”

So this feast of Christ the King fills me with questions. How it is a good thing that we end the liturgical year calling Jesus our king?

Some years ago I learned of one island community in Ireland that helped me with the idea of kings. This island is a tourist destination. When the ferry comes in, there is an older man dressed in work clothes waiting on the dock to greet you. He smiles and takes your hand, asks your name, welcomes you to the island. He will often carry your bags.

As it turns out he legally is the king of this island, head of the most ancient clan. He is entitled to the title “his majesty.” He figures the best way a king can spend his time is by welcoming guests and making them feel at home. That’s the kind of king I’d gladly bow my head to.

But we are fascinated with kings nonetheless. Right now, in chaotic times filled with uncertainty and anxiety, we may find ourselves longing for someone who knows how to put things right and who has the power to do so. On this Christ the King Sunday, these are my questions: Is there hope for us? Can we as a congregation, as a city, as a nation and a world, be gathered in a positive, life-giving community?

When we first gathered we prayed that Jesus would “restore all things.” In that prayer we named that we were “divided and enslaved by sin”, and long to be “freed and gathered” by Jesus as king.

If Jesus is the kind of king who can truly restore, if he is the kind of king who cares that I along with the rest of humanity is divided and enslaved, if he can gather us and set us free, then this is the kind of king I can get behind.

I acknowledge that my own life is divided and enslaved, by fear and anger and pride. I acknowledge that my life is impacted by powerful forces that instill fear and a sense of scarcity. I can see those forces wreaking havoc in the world, especially on poorest and most vulnerable.

The world is a loud and frightened place. It feels like everywhere there are anxiety, anger and fear, blame and a litany of problems. People the world over are rising in turmoil, seeking freedom from oppression or from poverty or from hopelessness. There is an overriding sense that there is something deeply wrong, but no one can quite grasp the key to turn that will make it right. Even in our own midst, in our own church, this sense of restlessness and being off-center affects us all. And so many of us are struggling with that sense of anxiety and insecurity, be it employment or finance or health or just trying to walk upright in shaky times.

We have truly been scattered, like the sheep in the first reading. Someone needs to look for us and gather us. Christ Jesus is doing just that, right now, right here, in our midst. The powerful and the self-sufficient will no longer have their own way. There is a new rule, and a new way to live with one another—a way that is humble and respectful, a way that places an abundant God at the center of our lives.

And we are called and empowered to live this new way, right here and now.

The king who gathers us is generous. He gives us his own life and his own spirit. We are royal, even though we may not feel that way! We are not our anxiety, our scarcity, or our despair. Instead Paul tells us we can live “with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints.” We are the saints, we are those empowered to live the life of the king.

Today we are called to gather and to live freely as sisters and brothers of the king.

This king does not force. He invites, but he also empowers. He calls us to a new way of being and living, but humbly awaits our response.

I wish to be gathered and freed to live the king’s life, here in this community of Saints Peter and Paul. Here is where it is possible for me to be that free, gathered person—together with sisters and brothers, set free from fear and from anxiety and from scarcity, freed from hiding out in my tiny anxious individual little life, freed to live my deepest desire, my deepest passion. That passion is to know and explore the depths of the heart of king Jesus, and to be transformed into a royal citizen of his realm where the king lives in the poor and those most in need.

That’s why we are invited to make our commitments today, to pledge our proportional support of this community. We do this to be free of anxiety and scarcity and the rule of power and of fear. We do this to love and honor and explore this strange, non-violent, non-coercive, always-generous king, a king who has no crown, no limousine, no security force, no castle, no home except in our hearts and in the faces of the poor. This gentlest and kindest of kings only wants to welcome us and to share his realm. We give, we pledge, we commit, we touch hands upon his altar because we want to be with him, with his gathered people, and with those forgotten people whom he loves. We want to be freed and gathered with him in our midst. That’s really what a scattered, angry, anxious world longs for most deeply.