"A Kingdom of Caring" | The Rev. Heidi Thorsen | November 22, 2020
Year A | Last Sunday after Pentecost | Christ the King
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24
Psalm 95:1-7a
Ephesians 1:15-23
Matthew 25:31-46
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing to you, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
Today is Christ the King Sunday - the last day of our liturgical year. On most Sundays, I try to start with the gospel text, and work out from there - sensing into what the Holy Spirit wants to say to us this week. However, this week it felt like the Holy Spirit kept pushing me to reflect on the day itself - Christ the King - and what it means to us today. I will get to the gospel - I promise! - but I wanted to start with a little background about this feast day, which is the most recently instituted holy day celebrated widely throughout the church, and why it matters.
Christ the King is the liturgical feast day in which we honor and celebrate Christ’s sovereignty over all the powers and principalities in heaven and on earth. This observance reminds us that God is ultimately in control. God reigns over heaven and earth, and we are children of God - denizens of God’s eternal kingdom. This idea of God’s kingship is rooted in the Bible. It is the undercurrent of David’s kingship in the Hebrew Scriptures. It is present in odes to God’s power in the Psalms. God’s kingship is even present in the ironic words that Pilate assigns Jesus on the cross: Jesus Christ, King of the Jews. Christians throughout history have honored God’s kingship - God’s sovereignty over a kingdom that looks nothing like the kingdoms of our world. And yet the Feast of Christ the King did not exist until 1925, when Pope Pius XI instituted this observance in his encyclical Quas primas. The significance of this feast day was again reaffirmed in 1969, when Pope Paul VI slightly shifted the date of the feast from sometime in October to the last Sunday of the liturgical year. This new position in the calendar gives this holy day added significance. At the end of the year, and the end of all our days, God in Christ reigns supreme. This feast day emerged out of the Roman Catholic tradition at an auspicious time when there was a lot of emphasis around ecumenical relationships and bridging the church across Protestant, Catholic, and Eastern traditions. That is why we, as Episcopalians, have come to celebrate this feast as our own as well.
There are some pitfalls when we think of “Christ the King.” I know that the word “kingdom” and the idea of God’s “kingship” does not sit well with all faithful Christians. Some people struggle with the word “king” because it feels too gendered, as if God were male instead of just God - something above and beyond all our human concepts and metaphors. For similar reasons some people don’t use the words “Kingdom of God,” as used in the gospel, and prefer instead to say the “kin-dom of God.” This word choice also helps to underscore how God’s reign is not based on the same kind of power or subjugation as earthly kingdoms. Instead, God’s reign is rooted in relationship. Hence the word “kin-dom,” as in kin.
These are helpful word distinctions for many people. For myself, I still do use the words king and kingdom. I don’t use these words because I think God is male. And I don’t use these words because I think monarchy is the best form of government. Rather, I use these words because they remind me of how far God exceeds our limited human understanding. Our ideas of kings and kingdoms are limited to history - or perhaps, also fairytales. And yet God’s kingdom, God’s kingship, goes above and beyond anything we could ever dream up in our wildest hopes or imaginings. The kingdom of God is a place of perfect justice, perfect love, perfect peace.
We have to weigh that distant dream against the reality of our present moment. And that is why I think it is significant for us to look at the history of this feast day, Christ the King, and to notice when it was, in history, that the idea of God’s kingship has been most important to us, as human beings. It is no surprise to me that this feast day was first instituted in 1925, in the wake of the First World War, The Great War. In other words, Christ the King came about at a time when western societies were coming face to face with the reality of vast human suffering. Face to face with how much power we have to do harm to one another. It is no surprise to me that this feast day was brought into the spotlight again in 1969 - in the midst of the Civil Rights movement, anti-war movements, and other liberation movements. In other words, it was a time of great change and crisis. And again, Christians felt the need to revisit the idea that Christ is King. That God is in control - working in, and through, and sometimes in spite of the events of our times.
What does Christ the King mean to us, today?
Perhaps this is another one of those times in history, those peak moments, when we need to be reminded of God’s sovereignty more than ever. We are living through a global pandemic, which has caused over 250,000 deaths in the United States alone. But there are other casualties too. The loss of jobs, freedom, mental and emotional wellbeing. The pandemic would be crisis enough - and yet on top of that we are also dealing with a crisis of national dividedness. As a country we are drawn increasingly towards extremes, and we are finding it harder and harder to meet in the middle. We are losing our sense of common ground at a time when so many of the fears that we face must be addressed together.
It’s in times such as this that we need to remember: Christ is King. The virus is not king. Our politicians are not kings - and no single political party reigns supreme. America is not the Kingdom of God. The economy does not rule over our ability to treat each other as neighbors - and at the end of the day, Christ is King. Not money, not health, not politics - no. Christ is King.
It’s satisfying for me to say all of these things. It makes me feel like a pulpit-pounding preacher, even as I sit here at my computer desk. And yet, I have to say, I don’t think that anything I’ve just said is new to you. In some ways it’s easy to say that health, wealth, and politics are not king, precisely because these are the things that clamor most for our attention, day in and day out. It’s easy to say that these things are not king because the Bible tells us so. Because God warns against idolatry. Because Jesus says, “you can’t serve both God and money.” Because Jesus makes it clear that the Roman Empire is not the kingdom of God.
And yet there are other things that rule over our lives, and these things are far more subtle.
Some days, exhaustion is king - and we have no time to rest or pray, let alone connect with our loved ones.
Some days, despair is king - and having fallen from a good place, it feels impossible to imagine that we could ever get back to a place of peace or happiness.
Some days, perfectionism is king - and we beat ourselves up for the work that we do, or do not do, instead of being present to the moment.
Some days, bitterness is king - and we get caught up in the injustices that have been done to us in a way that blinds us to the suffering and needs of others.
The list could go on and on. Loneliness is King. Regret is King. Anxiety is King. And while most of these examples have a more negative connotation, it’s just as easy to think of the positives that lay claim on our lives, from time to time. Happiness is King. Success is King. Ignorance is bliss is King.
And yet all of these things only end up obscuring the one truth that reigns above all, the truth that we proclaim today: Christ is King. God, who became human in the person of Jesus Christ, showed us a kind of power that will outlast everything else. It is a kind of authority that comes from caring for others. And, paradoxically, it is a kind of authority that also comes from being willing to accept the care of others, as we see in today’s gospel passage.
God’s unique authority recognizes that there are times when we ourselves will feel like “the least of these.” There are times when we will feel exhaustion. There are times when we will feel despair. There are times when we will feel defeated. And yet, in the kingdom of God, there is someone to care for us in those times. Conversely, there will be times when we are feeling better, and are more able to help others. There are times when we will be ready to do good in service to others, in all the ways that Jesus names in our gospel passage today: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing. I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
We might look at today’s gospel passage and see two categories of people: the sheep and the goats. Those who care, and those who look away. But in reality there are at least three categories of people - the sheep, the goats, and the least of these. People who fall into each of these three categories are members of God’s family, even if the goats have turned away from the blessings of God’s kingdom. And, if we’re being honest, these aren’t fixed categories in our lived experience anyways. All of us have been the sheep, and the goats, and the least of these, from time to time. Recognizing that there are three categories, rather than two, opened a door for me in this gospel passage. Suddenly I realized there are not just two options - care or look away. I realized that there are three options - care, or look away, or allow yourself to be cared for.
And that third category - that category of allowing ourselves to be cared for - is where God’s sovereignty is most apparent to me today. God does not wipe away all the pain and suffering in the world. Rather, God lays out the blueprint for a kingdom in which all our needs are met because we care for one another. It is a kingdom in which sometimes we are the caregivers, and sometimes we are the least of these - but at all times, our needs are met. This is what the kingdom of God looks like. A perfect economy of caring.
All of us have been caregivers. And all of us have been in the position of needing, and receiving care. If anything, I think this pandemic has sharpened that divide. There are some people for whom this is a terribly difficult time. It is a time of isolation, financial challenge, and emotional stress. And yet for others, in a paradoxical way, this pandemic has been a restorative time. A time for reconnecting with nature; a time for early retirement; a time for creativity. These extremes exist in our church community, at this very moment. In response to these realities, I want to say this: it is okay to not be okay. And it is also to be okay, if that is how you feel. In the kingdom of God there are highs and there are lows - God’s sovereignty does not change that. But here is the important difference: in the kingdom of God we care for one another. In the kingdom of God we let ourselves be cared for. And that economy of caring, that reciprocal love, makes all the difference.
Beloved, go forth today to love and to be loved. To care, and to allow yourself to be cared for by others. When the Son of Man comes in glory, this is the kingdom he will find. A kingdom where we care for one another, each in turn. A kingdom that is stronger than all the powers and principalities of this world. Amen.