Sermon of November 20, 2005 – Charles Orme-Rogers

Today we see in our scripture readings many strong and almost archetypal images of Christ - king, shepherd, servant, and judge - in what is known as “Christ the King” Sunday. We also see in our gospel reading today a scene which seems to speak to the end of times - a time when Christ, the “Son of Man”, returns in all regal glory to separate the goats from the sheep. And what is surprising in this reading is that the criterion of judgment is not a confession of faith in Christ, but whether one has acted with loving care for the needy. The fundamental thrust is that when people respond to human need, or fail to respond, they are in fact responding, or failing to respond, to Christ. Let’s look at some of these issues and symbols a bit more closely.

When I think of a king, I often think of extravagant kingdoms and royal surplus. I think of aristocrats, grand ballrooms, and the privileged elite. I think of lavish courts. I think of coercive power. And, of course, I think of the formation of our Episcopal Church as a body which refused to pledge allegiance to George, the king of England. I, as an American, probably have a rather jaded view of kingship. But the kingship of Jesus is vastly different from this kind of worldly leadership.

When we celebrate “Christ the King”, we are holding up a king who is, first and foremost, a redeemer, a reconciler, and a servant. This is not a king who comes to exercise domination over the earth and its people, but a king who comes to show us how to live as people of God, in the kingdom of God. Christ is the “king of all” and “servant of all”. It seems paradoxical doesn’t it? As king, Christ is not at the center of Washington DC, but is at the center of our hearts and minds. The whole of Christ’s life - his ministry, his teaching, his death, and his resurrection - has given us the model for true life. His teachings, his ministry to the oppressed, his gospel of love, justice, and mercy are all offered as a pattern for us by a servant king. But, I would suggest that the kingship of Christ can be thought of not just as a past teaching or a future end-time, but as a reality for the here and now. The rule of God operates in our lives every moment of the day, and as our gospel reading indicates, we are called by God to serve - to serve those less fortunate - the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned. Today, Jesus teaches us that when we stand before God, we will not be asked how well we worshiped in church, but how our worship transformed us to care for those in need.

Of all of the impressions that I am left with from this scripture reading (like king, shepherd, and day of judgment), the one that stands out the most for me is the mandate to serve. And while it seems that this reading would imply that we can only arrive in the Kingdom of God at some future point in time, and only if we serve others today, I would like to offer a bit of a twist on this perspective. I believe that by serving today, we approach the Kingdom of God today. I don’t think we have to wait for some apocalyptic event to draw us into the Kingdom. My basic thesis this morning is that in the process of serving, we encounter the Kingdom - we encounter God. I don’t really know what’s going to happen with some future end-time, do you? What I do know is that if I serve today, I encounter God today - that I help bring forth and live in the Kingdom right now. I believe that if we truly serve those in need - if we really meet them where they are - if we attempt to strip away our defenses in order to understand those whom we serve - in this process we encounter Christ in a very real and tangible way. Let’s look at some examples.

Many of you may remember Sally Weaver from when she served here at Trinity. Well, I was talking to her this past Friday evening at the diocesan convention, and she said that what stood out for her in this reading was serving those in prison. I could understand that, given her experience of working for Episcopal City Mission at Lakeside. She understands that in serving those kids, she encounters God. I can tell from talking to Steve Turner about the food ministry here at Trinity, that he encounters Christ in that mission, which he also claims as a his own calling. I also know that, in their younger years, my daughters came away from helping serve meals here to the needy with a new glow. And I know that when I served at St. Luke’s Hospital last summer, I had the opportunity meet Christ in the patient’s that I called on. But to me, it’s not just the pleasure of doing something good for someone else that leads me to a closer encounter with the core of my being, it is the stripping away of my defenses in order to more conform to God’s intention for me - to serve others where they are.

Let’s use the eating of an artichoke as a metaphor to explore this concept of undefendedness. I know from my experiences at the hospital, that in order to really help someone, to truly be where they need me to be to help them - to be radically available - I can’t be worried about my own stuff. I can’t effectively reach them if I am only concerned with my own agenda and run away from my own weaknesses. As with an artichoke, my training involved peeling off the layers to get to the heart of the matter. And, yes, in this preparation for complete openness to another, we may very well run into things that really threaten us. But just as with the artichoke, when we peel an outer leaf - when we remove a layer of defensiveness - we get a little sweet taste of the meat - we get to savor a bit of the sweetness of being closer to Christ.

Initially, the leaves are a bit tough to peel off - like our defenses might be holding on. It was difficult for me, for example, to set aside the other demands on my life in order to be with another. Sometimes I was thinking about a paper due, how many patients I had to see that day, or simply if it was going to be “taco day” in the cafeteria. But, as with the artichoke, as we shed those outer leaves, the inner layers may start to seem to fall away more easily.

At St. Luke’s, as I peeled my defenses, I encountered things like my need to be in control, to fix things, and a desire to cap things off with patients in order to defend myself from their pain. But those were my issues - not theirs. Most of the time what they wanted was for me to just be with them where they were - sometimes in the pain, sometimes in the hope. They wanted me to understand their situation - not to offer platitudes that dismissed their experience but soothed my anxiety. Things like “God will provide” does not do the trick when someone is in real pain or is dying - it does not touch where they are.

As we work our way through our own artichokes, we may need to peel through many things in our lives - societal standards, our weaknesses, our prejudices, our will to power, our need to control, our fears, our woundedness, our own self-centeredness - one leaf after another - in order to reach the heart of the artichoke - in order to reach the other that we serve. But the wonderful part of it is that Christ meets us as we go deeper into our hearts. The delicate food that we are able to enjoy as we peel the layers is that greater union with Christ and that ability to be more fully present with others. But, just as we know that in an artichoke we will encounter the “choke” before we get to the heart, we may encounter a choke in ourselves - a defensiveness that does not want to let go, a defensiveness that comes when it’s time to really relinquish our will - our self-centeredness - to the will of one greater than us.

The good news is that as we peel away the layers to the love that lies at the center - in our hearts - as we reach and encounter God - as we start to live in the kingdom now - we pass through to our freedom … Yes, that’s where we encounter our true freedom - in the divine will, not in our own. Archbishop William Temple, in the early part of the 20^th century, said it very eloquently and succinctly, “Freedom is not the absence of determination, it is spiritual determination”. Think about that. The truly free person is not the one who has no constraints on their life, but the one who has the full constraints of the Spirit - who has been freed by the love of Christ - the one who is truly free enough to serve the will of God. It is determination by good rather than determination by our own compulsions. Real freedom is being at one with our own true nature - that nature being driven by profound love.

As Paul says today in our reading from the letter to the Ephesians, “I pray that God may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you”. We don’t need to wait for some end time to enjoy this calling of the kingdom. It is all around us, it is in us, it moves through us, and it meets us in the encounter with the other. The Son of Man who comes in glory at the end is already present and we encounter this divine presence the most when we serve others in love. Let’s recognize, encounter, and celebrate the kingdom that is with us now. Maybe today, we can take another step toward being more fully present in our relationships and service to others. Maybe today, we can more fully taste the sweet Christ that lies at the center of our hearts.