Each November, the liturgical year ends with the celebration of Christ the King. We end the year, and begin a new one, by reflecting on the kind of king we serve, and the kind of life he calls to live.
Of course, our king is not like the royalty of medieval times of fairy tales. Nor is he like the monarchs of today. For our king does not live in luxury, surrounded by symbols of wealth and might. And our king does not ask to be pampered and pandered to flattery and lavish gifts.
No, you could say that Christ the King is nearly the opposite of what we have come to expect of an earthly rule. For there is not much that seems regal about a rural preacher wandering through the small towns and cities of first century Palestine, teaching about compassion, humility and forgiveness. And certainly the end of our king's life does not read like a storybook --- he is mercilessly executed at the hands of petty religious and political leaders.
Christ the King is not found in the corridors of power, demanding tributes or brokering deals. He is not sitting on some opulent throne waiting to be fawned on by courtiers, or plotting the invasion of neighboring states.
In today's Gospel reading, Jesus tells his followers how he will return, and the judgment that we will face. We will not be judged based on how well we spoke of, thought of, or complimented our king. We will be judged based on how well we treated our fellow citizen, particularly the neediest among them.
"For I was hungry and you gave me food," Jesus tells the truly righteous. "I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me…. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world."
What does it mean for us to feed, welcome, and clothe our king? "Whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me," he tells us.
Our king does not see himself as some sort of genetically superior creature who merely tolerates the common person. Indeed, our king sees himself as our brother. This is good news for those of us who see ourselves as broken and hungry. God is one of us. However, if we see ourselves as wealthy, powerful, and beautiful, and if we see ourselves as somehow superior to the broken people in our communities, we may not be seeing the true Jesus Christ.
Jesus tells us where we can find him. If you're like me, you'd prefer that he find you. I me, I'd rather God come pay me a visit than have to reach out to the sick, the hungry, the imprisoned. I'd rather have Christ the King visit me in my own comfortable home. Clothing the naked, for example, may sound nice when you read about it in the bible, but the reality in our world can be quite daunting. The last time I saw a naked stranger was at a park in our city --- a homeless person had chosen to expose himself for some reason. I didn't want to clothe him; I wanted to run away.
Jesus identifies not with the beautiful people but with the neediest members of our communities. That is where we will find him. We will not find Christ the King in the corridors of power. We will find Christ the King in the prisons, clinics and soup kitchens.
The question for you and I is, are we looking there? Are we going to where our king has summoned us, or are we expecting him to visit us in our own palaces? Bill Peatman writes from Napa.
|