The Rev. F. Wilson Brown, Jr., Rector

314 N. Bridge Street, Bedford, VA  24523   (540) 586-9582

 

 

 

HOME

CHRISTIAN FORMATION

GLEANINGS

FROM THE RECTOR

 

GLEANINGS NEWSLETTERS

 

PARISH PROFILE

 

YOUTH NEWS

PARISH NURSE

CHURCH PHOTOS

DIRECTIONS & SERVICE TIMES

LINKS & RESOURCES

INFO REQUEST FORM

MEMBERS PAGE

(Call office for password)

 

COLORING BOOKS

 

This site was last updated on

11/19/08

 

St. John's Episcopal Church

The Rev. F. Wilson Brown, Jr., Rector

314 N. Bridge Street, Bedford, VA 24523

(540) 586-9582

 

   

 

  

This Week's Sermon:

            Christ the King Sunday

                         November 19, 2006:

 

     Once upon a time there were three medieval kingdoms on the shores of a lake.  There was an island in the middle of the lake, which the kingdoms had been fighting over for years.  Finally, the three kings decided that they would send their knights out to do battle, and the winner would take the island.

     The night before the battle, the knights and their squires pitched camp and readied themselves for the fight.  The first kingdom had 12 knights, and each knight had 5 squires, all of whom were busily polishing armor, brushing horses, and cooking food.  The second kingdom had 20 knights, and each knight had 10 squires.  Everyone at that camp was also busy preparing for battle.  At the camp of the third kingdom, there was only one knight, with his single squire.  This squire took a large pot and hung it from a looped rope in a tall tree.  He busied himself preparing the meal, while the knight polished his own armor.

     When the hour of the battle came, the three kingdoms sent their squires out to fight (this was too trivial a matter for the knights to join in).  The battle raged, and when the dust cleared, as you might have guessed, the only person left was the lone squire from the third kingdom, having defeated the squires from the other two kingdoms.

     I guess this just proves that the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides.  Groan.  Boo.  Hiss.

      This is the last Sunday after the long season of Pentecost.  It is called Christ the King Sunday.  We also have baptisms this morning, for which I am always so thankful; having shared with you my love for splashing water. 

     Life begins to take on a little more urgency about this time of year.  Thanksgiving kind of crept up on us and Christmas is just around the corner. We will begin a next liturgical year next Sunday.  The color will be purple and the Advent wreath will occupy a prominent place, here near the pulpit.  The key word will be “watch.” 

     On this Christ the King Sunday, it may be a good time to ask ourselves about the nature of the preparations we are making?  What king is it for whom we make our hearts and homes ready?

     Of course, for many this is the yearly mad dash to get ready for Santa Claus.  Some people will camp out and trample each other to get their Play Station Three.  Credit card debt will climb significantly higher.  “Merry Christmas” has returned as the official Wal-Mart greeting; no more “Happy Winter Holiday Event” for shoppers.  Santa always seems to have the advantage in our culture.  Madison Avenue seems way more powerful than a baby boy, born in a stable-cave in a little, obscure corner of the ancient Roman Empire.  That differentiation of power is represented in the Gospel for Christ the King Sunday.  This baby boy, all grown up and in trouble with the powers and principalities of the world, is brought to Pontius Pilate for questioning.  Pilate thinks he is in control, so he asks, “Are you the King of the Jews?”  Jesus then offers Pilate the opportunity to make his own faith statement, but Pilate is too proud to take it.  “I am not a Jew, am I?  Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.  What have you done?”

     Good question, Mr. Pilate.  What has this King done?  In faith, we state every week that this one called Jesus the Christ is the Son of God, the Messiah.  That is the central faith statement for a Christian to make.  We can offer no scientific proof for saying such a thing.  We can offer no empirical data to back up such an absurd claim.  Only faith allows anyone to say that the king we worship is the Messiah of God.  Our king is vulnerable, just as each one of us is vulnerable.  He is a human being, just as each one of us is a human being.  We have our feet of clay.  We are vulnerable physically, mentally, morally, and spiritually.  Jesus appears to be vulnerable, too.  He is arrested, put in chains, charged with sedition, and dragged from one authority to the next.  When they begin discussing power, Jesus admits he is a king, but the source of his Kingdom is not of this world.  He came to testify to the truth and is the king of truth.

     Notice that the tables are turned.  Pilate is the one on the witness stand.  He is the one being questioned.  Jesus is in charge.  The clue to how this happened in the source of power.  Jesus is, in fact, not vulnerable in the ultimate sense.  All power is vulnerable except that power that finds its source in the truth.  Since God is the source of genuine truth, the power of Jesus is not of human origin.  In fact, Jesus is not vulnerable at all.  He needs no army to march to his defense.  He does not need followers to take up arms to defend his good name.  He is simply not vulnerable, even though he is condemned and will be crucified.  Truth triumphs.  He continues to reign as the King of Kings.

     What is it, then, that makes us so vulnerable at times?  Perhaps it is because we so often base our lives on that which is false and untrue.  What is that giant untruth?  It is that we do not listen to God or for God.  We want to go our own way, live our own lives independently of God.  We do not wish to stop and see that the kingship of Jesus the Christ call us to submit life and will to the care of God in Christ.  It is only in that exercise that we find life and truth. 

     Our sin is that we live under the great self-deception that we control our lives, that we are invincible, and not vulnerable to anything or anyone.  It is the beginning step of personal salvation to discover we are not invincible.  Seeing our fallibility begins the process of opening us up to God’s truth, grace, and merciful forgiveness.

     The king whom we worship this day, and the one we promise to hold up to these little one who are being baptized, does not rule from some golden throne in a palace.  He does not wish to be president or prime minister, but does wish presidents and all those in positions of public trust to listen for that still, small voice of reason and calm.  Only then will a genuine understanding of true power come.

     God in Christ will not accept confinement to one corner of the human heart or one area of the world he created.  God wishes to be central to all of life.  When that happens we begin to exercise good stewardship of this world.  We are to be involved as Ambassadors of the King of Kings in our families, our communities, our businesses, our churches, and our government.

     On this Christ the King Sunday we face a crucial question.  Who sits upon the throne of your heart?  Make no mistake!  Someone or something sits on the throne of every heart.  We are loved enough by the one in whose name we have been baptized to issue the invitation.  The King of Kings waits.  “Come into our hearts, Lord Jesus.”  Amen.