The Beginning

“In The Beginning”

Mark 1:1-8

December 4, 2011/Second Sunday of Advent

“In the beginning

There was the cold and the night
Prophets and angels gave us the fire and the light
Man was triumphant
Armed with the faith and the will
Even the darkest ages couldn't kill”[1]

            This is the beginning of a song by Billy Joel called 2000 Years.  I thought I knew most of Joel’s work until a friend of mine gave this song to me.  When I chose the title for my sermon this week – which is a traumatic experience for me most weeks because I tend to be title impaired – this song kept running through my head.

            So I listened to it several times, and finally Googled the lyrics so I’d get them just right.  I particularly like the line about the prophets and the angels giving us the fire and the light.  I don’t know that Billy Joel was referencing any particular prophet or angel, but certainly the prophets and angels we find in scripture bring fire and light.  Certainly we are in the season of the church year when prophets and angels take on new meaning.

            We’ll be hearing more from angels in a few weeks, but today our words come from prophets.  Specifically we hear the words spoken by God to the prophet Isaiah and from John the Baptizer. 

            I think it’s safe to say that John the Baptist brings a little fire.  Mark’s version of John reads a little less fiery than some of the other gospels.  We don’t get the phrase “brood of vipers” from Mark’s version of John, but I believe that the fiery intent is still there. 

            In fact, in comparison to the other three gospels, Mark’s opening is different all the way around.[2]  One commentator made the statement that he used to think that Mark was lacking in creativity because it started in such a boring kind of way.   “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  This scholar believed that was a pretty lame way to get started.[3] 

            So let’s think about how the other gospels start the story.  Matthew’s:  “An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham. “  Or Luke’s:  “Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us…”  And how can we ever forget the beginning of John’s gospel, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” 

            In comparison, then, I guess Mark’s opening lines do sound a little tame.  But then again, maybe they aren’t.  Mark is the only one of the four gospels that calls itself a gospel.  Mark announces from the very beginning that this work is a gospel.  It is a work of good news about the One who brings good news, the One who is, actually, good news in human form.  Jesus Christ.[4]

            There is no second guessing what Mark is trying to get across here.  Jesus Christ is the Messiah we have been waiting for.  He is the Good News.  He is the Son of God. 

            So in the beginning of the gospel we know exactly who Mark believes Jesus to be, and it is urgent that all those who hear, who read, who listen believe that as well.  As we work our way through this gospel over the next year, we will see that there is an urgency to Mark’s gospel.  He uses the word “immediately” over and over again to show that the events happening with and to and because of Jesus Christ the Son of God were of vital importance and taking place right then in their immediate midst.

            There is an air of expectancy, of great anticipation to Mark’s gospel and that is evident in these opening verses and in the story he tells of John the Baptist. 

            In the beginning is Jesus Christ, the Son of God.  No subtlety, no pretense.  Just what it is.  This is the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

            And true to fashion, Mark doesn’t talk about the birth of Jesus.  There are no mangers or shepherds or heavenly hosts singing alleluias.  He moves right ahead to John the Baptist.  Remember the words of Isaiah?  A messenger who will come from the wilderness?  Crying out to “prepare the way of the Lord”? 

            Well here he is.  John the Baptizer.  John appeared in the wilderness.  John, whose dress and diet were strange.  John, whose message was “Repent.”  John came from the wilderness, just as Isaiah prophesied, and called for repentance in the form of baptism for the forgiveness of sins.  And according to Mark, all the people in the Judean countryside and all of the people from Jerusalem flocked after John, this strange and wild prophet, and followed him to the river Jordan. 

            And while they were gathered around him, waiting for their chance to be baptized, John proclaimed to them, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.  I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

            Immediate.  Urgent.  This is the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.  In the beginning is Jesus Christ.

            Mark doesn’t have time to waste words.  He is writing to and for a people who are under siege.  They were under assault by the Roman army, who were planning to utterly destroy the city of Jerusalem and its temple.  At this time there were two disparate Jewish lines of thought.  One was Zionist.  As they faced the Romans, it was believed that God would intercede on their behalf in the form of military might.  The Romans would be crushed because the Hebrew God was on their side and moving decisively in history.  So the Messiah they longed for would be a mighty warrior. 

            But Mark counters this with another understanding.  God has interjected himself into human history, but it has happened already with the birth of Jesus of Nazareth a generation before the gospel was written.  Most of the people who interacted with Jesus missed what he was there for.  They missed the incarnation of God in their midst.  They missed the point entirely.  

            But Mark is telling them that they have another opportunity, another chance, a new beginning.  At this critical moment, at this turning point with the world and all that they know and understand in peril, they have the ability to look back and see how God has acted in history.  They can repent, just as John the Baptizer called those who gathered around him to do. They can see God in the past and realize that God is also in their present and in their future. 

The Greek word for repent is metanoia which literally means to turn around.  So Mark calls on the people he writes for to do just that.  Turn around.  Turn back to God.  See God.  See God in Jesus Christ.  Because when you can see God in Jesus Christ, you have infinite reason to hope.  God is not far off.  God is right here, with us.  Even though Rome is at the doorstep, God with us is our greatest reason to hope.

And isn’t hope, isn’t expectancy, what Advent is all about?  This isn’t just a time of casual waiting, like we might do waiting to see the dentist.  This is a time of expectant waiting.  It is fervent waiting.  And fervency is at the heart of Mark’s gospel.

You see, just as we talked about the beginning of Mark’s gospel, I think we also have to talk about the ending.  The ending of Mark’s gospel is so controversial, that different, later scribes wrote different endings to try and tie it up neatly.  In my Bible, which is the New Revised Standard Version, the endings are called the shorter and the longer versions.  But here is what is considered to be the original ending. 

“So they (the disciples) went out and fled from the tomb , for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.”

It’s definitely not a neatly boxed up little ending is it?  But I don’t believe that Mark wanted it to be. I think he wanted it to be put back on the readers’ shoulders figuratively and literally speaking.  The original disciples ran away afraid.  What will you do?

That’s a question that we all must ask isn’t it?  What will we do?  What is our hope?  Do we believe that God is with us, in our past, in our present and in our future?  If so, how are we preparing the way?  What will we do?

It’s on us.   We can run away afraid, telling no one.  Or we can see this Advent as another chance, a new beginning, a time to turn around, to recognize that God continues to do a new thing in our midst.  This is the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.  It is our beginning.  What will we do?

I close as I began.  With Billy Joel.

“There will be miracles

After the last war is won

Science and poetry rule in the new world to come

Prophets and angels

Gave us the power to see

What an amazing future there will be

And in the evening

After the fire and the light

One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the night

Time is relentless

And as the past disappears

We're on the verge of all things new

We are two thousand years.”

Let all God’s children say, “Amen!”

---

[1] Billy Joel, 2000 Years from River of Dreams

[2][2] Karoline Lewis, WorkingPreacher.org

[3] Rolf Jacobson, WorkingPreacher.org

[4] Lamar Williamson, Jr., Interpreter’s Commentary on Mark

A Poem When Prose Won't Work

To Mark

A Street Person

I couldn’t help but notice his hands

They were dirty

But not like the dirty mine get after

digging garden loam or dusting the piano

This grime seemed permanent

dirt molecules bonded to skin cells

no soap could clean completely

nails ringed with black

And the smell of the street rose

from him as the warmth of the church

revealed what the cold outside camouflaged

Stale cigarette smoke mingled with oil fumes and

skin too long without warm water

I leaned in close to hear him

He kept his head turned away

shame or fear or just non-being

I don’t know which but he mumbled

his need and asked if God could help

No answers were forthcoming

but I prayed anyway

Bowing my head as I was

well taught

I couldn’t help but notice

my hands frequently washed

rings adorning both left and right

nails unpolished but with no trace of filth

Small as they have always been

These hands that were always held by stronger, bigger hands

out of protection and love and worry and hope

I couldn’t help but notice

his hands with long tapering fingers

An artist’s hands

Perhaps they could have coaxed

figures out of clay or written poetry

or moved gracefully across

the strings of a guitar

I can’t help but wonder

if someone once held his hands

like mine were held

And if that is true

Why is there a difference now?

Wake Up!

“No One Knows”

Mark 13:24-37

November 27, 2011/First Sunday of Advent

For some unknown reason my father refused to let me stay home alone for more than 24 hours before I turned 18.  If he and my mother were going to be out of town, I had to either stay with a friend or my older brother was co-opted into coming to stay with me.  Quite honestly, I was better off alone, because my brother Brad was a pretty lax chaperone.  But the Amy-must-be-18-in-order-to-be-in-the-house-for-longer-than-a-day rule was set in stone.

Then I turned 18 and my parents conveniently decided to take a week’s trip to Minnesota leaving me alone in Nashville.  With one hand I waved them out the door and down the driveway.  With the other hand I was dialing the phone letting people know that the party started at 8.  

Now before you think I’m completely brazen, you need to know that my parents knew I was having a party before they’d even packed their bags.  I told them.  I might have said, “I think I’m going to have a few friends in while you’re gone.”  I may not have clarified that a few meant 30 plus.  But I doubt that my parents were under the illusion that I was going to have a small, quiet dinner party either.  They were a little hipper than I gave them credit for.  My dad’s last words as they pulled away were, “please don’t burn the house down.”  I didn’t.

In fact the house was spotless when they came back home.  But I was helped with this because I knew when my parents were coming home.  I was prepared.  I was ready.  I had friends who weren’t so lucky.  One of my friends had parents who would never tell her when they were coming back.  They might go for a couple of days.  They might leave for a week.  Not telling her was supposedly a way to prevent wild parties and a trashed house.  I spent a weekend with her when her parents were out of town and we cleaned everyday just in case her mom and dad pulled in unexpectedly.

Mark 13 says that the master of the house is a lot more like my friend’s parents than mine.  No one knows when he’s going to return from his journey, so stay awake.  Don’t drift off.  Watch.  Stay conscious.  Stay awake.  For the master could return at any moment.  No one knows.

Warnings to stay awake.  Stars falling.  A darkened sun and moon.  Heavenly powers shaken up.  Not exactly images we normally picture at the beginning of Advent.  There’s no babe lying in a manger for Mark.  No cattle lowing, no shepherds being led to the child by a host of heavenly messengers.  Instead on this first Sunday of Advent, we have what is known by Biblical scholars as Mark’s Little Apocalypse.  This chapter begins with Jesus’ predictions about the destruction of the temple.  Then Jesus and a few of the disciples – Peter, James, John and Andrew – retreat to the Mount of Olives, look out over the temple and discuss the end times.

His disciples question Jesus.  “Tell us, when will this be; and what will be the signs that all these things are about to be accomplished?”  Jesus tells them about many signs.  False prophets and false messiahs.  Beware those who come in his name, making claims in his name, yet in reality lead the faithful astray.  Wars, nation rising up against nation.  Earthquakes, famines, natural disasters.  Don’t be alarmed, these are the beginning of the birth pangs.

There will be suffering.  The disciples will be forced to testify to the good news in front of councils and governments.  But don’t worry, the Holy Spirit will speak through them.  And again, there will be false prophets and false messiahs pointing the people in the wrong direction.  Leading the elect astray.  So wake up!  Stay awake! 

And then we come to our verses.  When the end times truly arrive cosmic signs will fill the sky.  Stars, sun, moon.  And then Jesus, the Son of Man will come surrounded by clouds in his power and glory.   Angels will be sent to bring the elect from every corner of heaven and earth.

All this will happen in God’s time.  Not even the angels or the Son himself know when the end will come.  Only God the father.  And he’s not telling.  So stay awake!  Remain on watch, wait open-eyed for the Master’s return.  Because no one knows when he will come.

Apocalyptic literature and predictions about the end times, such as what is found in Daniel, the book of Revelation and this chapter in Mark, usually come out of a community that is oppressed and under siege by political, religious or military leaders.  The situation in the community seems so utterly dire and desperate that their only hope is in divine intervention.  No mortal means can end their suffering.  Only action from God and God alone.  Then their suffering will be justified.  A new world will be issued in.

But that divine intervention will happen in God’s time and God’s time is not our time. 

So stay awake.  Stay alert.  The end could come in the next moment.  It could come next week or next month.  We don’t know.  No one knows.  We just have to stay awake.

It’s hard to imagine it’s been over a decade now, but do you remember all the fears that surrounded the new millennium?  Y2K.  Predictions of the terrible things that would happen because computers hadn’t been programmed to switch from the 1900’s to 2000.  Planes were supposedly going to drop out of the sky.  The worlds’ businesses would go into a tailspin.  There was going to be chaos on every street.  Even movies were being made to exploit the fear that people had about Y2K.  Just as a movie has been made to exploit the fear people have about 2012 and the predictions that the end of the world will come next year.

Around this time of year in 1999 Matt and Phoebe and I made a quick trip to Montreal.  I remember that everywhere we looked there were signs about the approaching year 2000.  As we drove out of the city there was even a huge billboard with flashing bright letters stating: 40 more days to the new millennium.  Matt and I looked at each other and said, “The countdown has begun.”  And I was scared.  What was going to really happen on January 1, 2000?  And I worried.  But that New Year’s Day passed calmly and quietly.  None of us could have predicted what would happen on September 11, 2001 or the Tsunami in 2004 or Hurricane Katrina or any of the events since. 

It would be easy right now to look at current world events and try to interpret them in light of the apocalypse.  Look at the terrible economic troubles happening here and in Europe and really around the world, look at the wars being fought in so many different places, look at the famine that continues to rage in parts of Africa. Think about the earthquakes that hit here just a few weeks ago, and the big one that shook the East Coast a month or so before that.

Are these signs that the end of the world is upon us?  It seems like there have been wars and natural disasters and terrible things happening for centuries.  Are these signs that the end of the world is upon us?

I don’t know.  And I’m in good company when I say that, because Jesus said the same.  Even the Son doesn’t know when the end will come.  No one knows.  All of that is in the Father’s hands.

But we must stay awake.  When Jesus tells the disciples to do this he uses the same word that he uses in the Garden of Gethsemene when he begs the disciples to stay awake with in his final hours.  Gregorite.  Stay awake.  No matter how hard it is, no matter how long it takes, stay awake with me.

But staying awake is hard.  Personally, I like as much sleep as I can get.  I don’t just like it.  I value it.  G.K. Chesterton wrote that sleep is one of the surest signs of trust in God.  But sleep is also a means of escape.  Constant sleeping is one of the signs of depression.  Sleep can help us avoid the world.  Sleep comes with boredom, waiting for something to happen.

Being asleep is much easier than being afraid, or helpless or bored.  Being asleep is much easier than being alive to each moment.  But Jesus won’t put up with this.  Stay awake.  Don’t miss a moment!  Don’t sleep through life.  Wake up to all that life brings you.  If life is painful, than wake up to it.  Live through it because it’s the only way you’ll heal.  Wake up to the love and joy that you are afraid of having because you might get hurt.  Wake up and recognize that the future is not in your hands.  It’s in the hands of God.  You might not get the future you planned on, but you just might get the one you need. Stay awake!

No one knows when the end is coming.  The end of the world, the end of our family as we know it, the end of our church, our own end.  No one knows.  But don’t sleep through the time we have.  We’re at the beginning of Advent, the season of waiting.  This season when we look for a star in the sky telling us that a child has been born.  Maybe this year will also herald the second coming.  Maybe Jesus will finally come again.  It’s been a long time since that first time.  We’ve been waiting for centuries.  But whether he comes or whether he doesn’t isn’t really the point.  Are we awake?  That is the point.  Are we truly living in the present of each day?  Are we celebrating the great and glorious expectations of this season?  Are we awake to all that God is doing in our midst? Are we awake?  Alleluia.  Amen.

For Those Who Sit Down

 

I have watched the video of campus police pepper spraying students at UC Davis twice.  Once on NBC Nightly News, and once again just before writing this. 

I can't watch it anymore than that.  Not because I don't think it should be watched.  I just can't bear to watch it more than twice.  It infuriates me!  Both as a human being who doesn't believe that other human beings should be treated like that, and as a mother.  My two kids are not college aged, but I'm certainly old enough to have a child who is.  If I saw that happening to my daughter or my son, I would channel my inner mother bear into some serious rage. 

Yet even as I am outraged, I am also proud.  Proud of those students for being willing to live out their convictions.  As much as I would never want either of my kids to experience being pepper sprayed, I would not argue with their decision to challenge injustice and inequity in a non-violent way.  And I know that in doing so, they would be risking retaliation by authorities that is definitely not non-violent, whether it's pepper spray or something worse.

Taking a stand against a system that is oppressive or unjust or just plain wrong takes courage.  History has proven that the response to that courage by the system is usually cowardly.  Whether it's pepper spraying peaceful college students, spraying down marchers with high pressure water hoses or beating protesters with billy clubs, it is cowardly and it is driven by fear.  And to remain non-violent in the face of that is more courageous still.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and while I am thankful for more traditional things -- my family, my friends, a home, a vocation, more than enough food, clothing, stuff -- I also want to express my thanks for the people that are identified by those in power as troublemakers, who are told that they just need to get a job and shut up already.  I suspect that they are the real peacemakers that Jesus called blessed.

I want to say thanks to those willing to take a stand.  I am thankful for people like my nephew, who as a teenager on the eve of the invasion of Iraq by the last administration, marched in silent protest against a war that was popular and considered necessary by the majority.  I guess he was luckier than the students at UC Davis.  He wasn't pepper sprayed, but his silent vigil engendered vitriol and insults from passing drivers.  Just because he and others dared to question.

I am thankful for those who have been willing to risk being scorned, imprisoned and harmed for a cause that was greater than their own needs.  I am thankful for those who say enough is enough, and do something about it.  I am thankful for those who stand up to injustice, in all of the ways it manifests itself.  I am thankful for those who stand up.  And for those who occupy, who refuse to be moved, who refuse to give up, who remind those in power that every voice must be heard.  I am thankful for those who sit down. 

Christ Is King

“A Different Kind of King”

Matthew 25:31-46

November 20, 2011/Christ the King Sunday

            One of my favorite, favorite British comedies, actually one of my favorite tv shows British or otherwise, is a show called The Vicar of Dibley.  It airs on Oklahoma Public Television on Sunday nights.  If you haven’t seen it, you really should.  It’s hilarious!  The show tells the story of Geraldine Grainger, a woman vicar in the Church of England, and her slightly insane parishioners in a small, slightly insane English village called Dibley. 

            In one of the episodes it’s Christmas time.  Gerry, or Mrs. God as she’s sometimes called, is in charge of the annual Christmas show which must be extra exciting as it is the last Christmas before the new millennium.  The Christmas show is to be a living nativity, set in a real farmyard.  The manger is in a real barn.  The audience follows the cast around from place to place to experience the birth of Christ in a new way. 

            The scene I’m thinking of in particular is when the vicar is holding auditions for the play.  Three of the regular characters, Jim, Frank and Owen, all come to audition for the Wise Men or the Kings.  But they don’t seem to fully understand who they’re supposed to be.  First, Frank auditions using a voice that’s supposed to sound like Stephen Hawking.  Hawking is a wise man, isn’t he?  Then Owen comes dressed as Elvis.  After all, he was the King.  Jim is turned away before he can audition as Martin Luther King.  But he does come to the first rehearsal dressed as Billie Jean King.  There was definitely some king confusion going on.

            But I don’t think that confusion is reserved only for a television comedy.  What do we think of when we hear the word “king?”  What is a king anyway?

            When I hear the word king, I think of monarch.  And when I think of monarch, I think of the English monarchy.  I can’t help myself.  I’ve been fascinated with them for a long time.  I was 15 when Diana Spencer became Princess Diana, and yes, I did get up at 4:30 to watch the royal wedding.  And I got up at 5 am to watch the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton as well. 

            But there are other monarchies out there.  In fact, when I did some research, I was surprised at how many there actually are.  The King and Queen of Norway just visited the town we lived in Iowa this fall.  There is still a monarchy in Sweden and Denmark, the Netherlands, Monaco, Liechenstein, Belgium, Luxemborg, Spain, Jordan, Qatar, Oman.  I could go on and on.  Some of these countries have a constitutional monarchy, which is essentially what the United Kingdom is.  They have a democratic form of government with the monarchy as the head of state in name only.  But some of the countries have absolute monarchies.  They are ruled solely by the King or Queen.

            But what are other defining aspects of a monarchy?  Generally you only become a monarch through birth or marriage.  A monarch is not elected.  There is the rule of succession. 

            Monarchs tend to rule for life, unless they abdicate.  Monarchs often have a family home or homes.  They don’t grow up, leave Mom and Dad’s castle, go to royal college, then start shopping for a palace of their own. The home comes with the title.

            There are protocols when it comes to meeting monarchs or addressing them.  I know that when Queen Elizabeth has her regular awards ceremony, essentially recognizing different citizens for accomplishments, sometimes even knighting them, they have to approach her slowly, bow or curtsy, then leave her presence equally as carefully; not turning their back on her until they’re several feet away.  When a new prime minister takes office in the U.K. he or she must meet with the Queen and ask for permission to govern the country, which she then bestows.  It may be in name only, but it’s still a protocol that has to be followed. 

            I’m sure I’ve left a lot out, but I think my point is that monarchs generally do not live the kinds of lives that we lead.  They’re still human, with the same failings and foibles as the rest of us, but I think it’s safe to say that they world they inhabit looks very different than my own. 

            It would seem that there is no confusion about what a king or a queen, a monarch is then, is there?  A king is a ruler, a leader.  There is a specific etiquette involved in relating to the king.  If I were to get the chance to visit with Queen Elizabeth or one of the other royals I would have to be schooled in what to do and how to do it.  Why?  Because she is the Queen and that’s what is required. 

            So if we’ve got this monarch thing all figured out, then this Sunday should be a piece of cake.  It’s Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday of the Church year.  Next Sunday we begin again with Advent.  We leave the gospel of Matthew and focus on the gospel of Mark.  Everything begins again.  We start with expectation of a new messiah and end with a king.

            But as my sermon title suggests, when we talk about Christ as king, we’re talking about a different kind of king.  And perhaps that’s why there is king confusion.  Especially as we approach this passage in Matthew’s gospel.

              It’s not particularly surprising that this passage is about judgment.  Judgment has been a part of the majority of passages we’ve been studying in Matthew.  This passage begins with Jesus telling those around him that when at last the Son of Man comes in all his glory, surrounded by his heavenly host, and sits on his throne, he will judge the nations.  This sounds very royal and kingly. 

Judgment will involve separating the people like a shepherd separates sheep from the goats.  The sheep are the ones who fed him when he was hungry, gave him something to drink when he was thirsty, clothed him when he was naked, cared for him when he was sick, welcomed him when he was a stranger, visited him when he was a prisoner.  And the goats are the ones who didn’t.

            But what is so surprising about this story is the surprise.  Both the sheep and the goats are surprised by what they hear from the Son of Man, their king.  Neither group knew that they were doing these things to or for the Son of Man or that they weren’t. 

            The sheep are surprised because it turns out that when they were helping people in need, they were actually caring for Jesus.  He was the king in their midst, and they didn’t even know it.  The goats are surprised because they are being judged on something they didn’t even know about.  Their argument to Jesus is that had they known he was hungry or thirsty or naked or sick or lonely, they would have gladly provided for his need.  But they didn’t know!  They would have gladly followed the correct etiquette  in caring for a king, but they had no idea that king was in their midst in the first place, nor the etiquette that he required. 

            And that’s what I mean about a different kind of king.  Think about it.  The protocol for meeting a monarch of this world, a king of our expectations, involves using the correct titles of respect and mannerly gestures such as curtsies or bows.  But our protocol for meeting Christ as King involves caring for the poor and the needy; feeding the hungry, clothing the naked.  The proper etiquette is visiting the prisoner and welcoming the stranger.  And it’s not done in view of a reward, but because Jesus through his life and his death modeled what it means to care for the least of these.  Throughout Matthew’s entire gospel, we are called to show love through our actions, more than through our warm fuzzy feelings.  Because when we love our neighbor, we love God.  And when we love God, love for neighbor follows.  And Christ our King resides among the least of these.

            That is a different kind of king indeed.

            And on this last Sunday, let’s think about all the ways that Christ is King.

            Christ is King of Advent.  

Purple: The color of Advent and Lent

 We expect a Messiah, a royal savior who will lead his people out of misery and despair into a glorious new future.  Yet we receive helplessness.  A baby.  And one who is not born in the sterile environment of a labor and delivery room.  Not even one who is born in the welcoming warm comfort of a home.  This baby and his parents are refugees, shunted off to a cave, born among animals, but heralded by angels.

            In the same way Christ is King of Lent.  Again, we expect a warrior.  But we are called instead to travel with Jesus on a wilderness road, and follow him to the cross.  We cheer him, then betray him.  Christ is the King of death. 

            Christ is the King of Easter.  

White:  The Color of Easter

 He is the King of life where there should be no life.   He is the King of an empty tomb.  Christ is the King of Resurrection.  The grave does not win. 

            Christ is King of Pentecost.  

Red:  The Color of Pentecost

 He is the power of the Holy Spirit which gave voice and strength and courage to those who had been fearful, timid and weak.  He is King of the church whenever and wherever that church does work for the sake of his name.

            Christ is King of all the days in between.  

Green:  The color of all days.  The color of life.

He is King of the days we call ordinary.  He is King of the days of our living and our dying.  He is King of the days when we thrive.  He is King of the days where we merely seem to survive.  Christ is King of all our days. 

            Christ is King.  We give thanks that he is not like the monarchies we know.  We give thanks that he does not meet our expectations.  We give thanks that our only protocol in serving him is to help the weak, feed the hungry, give shelter to the homeless, visit the lonely, comfort the sorrowful and love the least of these.  We give thanks that Christ is a different kind of king indeed.  Let all God’s children say “Amen.”  

Whatever the color, Christ Is King