What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, November 20, 2011

Christ the King
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24 • Psalm 95:1-7a • Ephesians 1:15-23 • Matthew 25:31-46

[Jesus said to the disciples:] "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 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.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?' And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.' Then he will say to those at his left hand, 'You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me. Then they also will answer, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?' Then he will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life."

Several years ago, I was at Holden Village, the Lutheran retreat center out in the Cascade Mountains of Washington state that Stacey and I love so much, and we were a part of a farewell party for the three Directors who oversee the day-to-day operations of the Village. They were completing several years of amazing ministry, and at one point in the evening, several people spoke up to talk glowing about their gifts, from cooking skills, to managing crises, to giving up their lodges for guests to use when the village was at overflowing capacity, to renewing the village’s mission to be centered in the gospel. After all these accolades were laid upon them, it was their turn to speak. The first thing that one of them, Paul, said, has always stuck with me. He said, “I’m not sure what I can say for all the kind things you’ve said about us...except...you have been Christ to us...and the people of this Village have been Christ to us.”

Here were people who had just been described as having themselves been Christ to this Village... How could the first thing Paul say about this experience be that we had been Christ to them? It has always struck me since as a great moment of reversal--a great example of how serving others does not always mean that it is up to us to bring Christ to others...but in relating to and serving others—we can discover the vastness of where Christ is already at work. For Paul, Christ had shown up in the guests who brought their longings for rest and renewal, in the staff who gave their all for little or no pay, and in the gorgeous mountain wilderness that sang out with the beauty of Creation. What Paul was saying was that despite all the transformation that had happened in the Village during their service, it ended up also being the directors themselves who had been transformed by their service too. Mutual transformation...all because of Christ.

As we are called by Christ to serve others, that call to serve can often seem like a heavy, heavy burden. When I heard from United member John Halvorson about his Bible study on this passage from Matthew 25 this past summer, he noted how heavily people in the discussion felt the weight of God’s law--law that both convicts us and also commands us to serve Christ in the “least of these.” But what often is overlooked in the call to Christian service is the promise that goes with it: that we will discover Christ already at work in the world, and that we ourselves will be transformed by the presence of Christ who is already present—already reigning, we confess on this Christ the King Sunday. Christ is already at work fashioning a home in the presence of the world he comes to dwell in—at work through us, and at work in others to reveal himself to us.

This reminds me of a very common experience I have when I talk about the ministry that my wife Stacey does in her work as a hospital chaplain with children. So often, I mention what she does, and people say, “Wow, that must be incredibly difficult.” What I most often observe her saying when she hears that is that it is difficult to be with children who are in the hospital for days on end, or who go through incredibly challenging treatments. But she also says that she discovers amazing faith, hope and love in these children and their families. It is a blessing, she says, to be in the presence of children who end up giving the staff and all who care for them the incredible gift of their stories, testimonies and blessing of those around them. It ends up that the children she serves become Christ to others. They become the ones blessing her rather than only being the recipients of others' blessings. So it doesn’t turn out to be as hard work, as it is paying attention for the surprising ways God is at work through such broken circumstances with incredible compassion that runs both ways.

I have heard one such story, of when a high school student was on hospice care. Before he died he wanted Holy Communion brought to him, and to celebrate it with all his closest family and friends around him. During that service, while there were many tears shed, unbeknownst previously to everyone else, this young man started going around the room and blessing each and every person there. Whether it was a few words of thanks, or a hope for their future, or simply laying a hand on their hand, this young man who everyone else had come to surround with Christ’s presence...became Christ in those moments to everyone in that room. In his need, he discovered compassion big enough to bless those who had come to bless him.

The thing that these stories of Paul and this young man and that Jesus’ words about finding him in the “least of these” have in common, is that Christ is found in our mutual need—the need we all share, regardless of whether we serve or are being served, whether we love or we are being loved. In Matthew 25, all the people Jesus where says he will appear lack something, whether it is food, water, a home, clothing, care, or community. Even if our lack of those things does not define us, we all stand in need of all those essential things in our lives, and it is in our lack—in that space inside all of us that longs for God to sustain us with those things—that Jesus comes and sets up his reign of compassion...a reign that was intended since the world began and is a reign that will not end until the end of time.

But there's still the question...how can Christ come alive? How is it that Jesus, this 2,000 year old, Son of God, who was born, lived, died, rose again, and reigns with God until his return--how can he show up, be present to us, extend God’s blessing us, and make God known to us...through another human being? It’s kind of crazy when you look at it from that perspective, isn’t it?!

It’s funny, though, this sounds like a similar questions to what was asked in our Adult Education session last Sunday about communion: “How can Christ be truly present in communion?” We as Lutherans believe that it is still bread and wine, but that Christ’s presence is there “in, with and under”, as Luther says. His presence is there, just as his presence is there in our compassion for the least of these—and any who are lacking, because of his promise to be present...to reveal some piece of himself...to give us a glimpse that is visible through the eyes of faith. Christ’s promises that we will see his presence in our lack because his compassion goes all the way to the cross...his compassion affirms that in the heartbeat of reality, the world is not hostile, threatening or indifferent. Christ's presence is possible because he fills the world with grace--grace that has already been won for us, and that we can trust lies at the core of God's heart.

Thank the Lord that we do not have to be Christ. There has been and there will only be one Jesus. The way we get to see him is by receiving him...who fills in all the ways we lack in our lives...and in the lack that we find in those we serve. In that lacking we all become channels of his blessing, means of his grace, full of his promised compassion. While we are still human, still children of God--his compassion flows in, with and under us, in ways we cannot even imagine...turning we ourselves into servants who will be transformed again and again by this unending reign of love.

So we can today take these ordinary things we find in our midst—in bread, wine, and one another—and see them with the eyes of faith...see them as gifts that are themselves Christ resurrected, alive, here, now, today, present...all being Christ for us....being the same gift we already are and will be to all who lack, to all who hunger to live under Christ’s reign. We can look around at the ordinary people we find through our daily life--in our neighbors, community, strangers, and friends alike--to see the extroardinary love of Christ at work in them...and in one of the most incredible twists of the life of a Christian: seeing Christ in their love filling our lack, and them seeing Christ in our love filling theirs. It is for that power revealed in love that reigns forever that we give thanks on this Christ the King Sunday.

Amen.