The king who serves ?

 Sometimes things in life seem backwards or the wrong way around. Last week, I heard the familiar tones of an advert that I love. This advert conspires to make me feel happy as some of my great loves appear together. Yes, Father Christmas, Coca-Cola, and Christmas music all in one advert; it can only mean that the Coca-Cola Christmas advert is out. Therefore, even though we are not in Advent yet, Christmas is coming!

How strange then, in our gospel reading this morning, to hear of the crucifixion. That makes it seem as if Easter is around the corner, and the Church calendar seems to have gone a little bit mad! But I suspect that the Church is not confused, because actually none of the gospel message can make sense without first the crucifixion and then, of course, the resurrection. As we move towards Advent and Christmas, we remember what our Saviour was actually born for.

In the readings this morning, we heard about the image of Jesus, the image of a King, the image of Christ. This morning we celebrate Christ the King, but as we do so, we see all the expectations of kingship squashed.

When we think of a King, we think of someone in a palace, with grand robes who, if we are honest, is separate from us and always goes along with social convention. When we think of Jesus, we think of someone who was with us, born in a stable, who suffered in a way nobody, let alone a King, should. We think of One who turned the world upside down by loving those whom nobody loved, by being different from society as He reached out to those whom society would have seen as untouchables.

The gospel this morning has reminded us that we worship a King who was crucified after suffering probably one of the cruellest forms of punishment and death—a death that was for all of us. What type of image is that? This is not an image we would automatically associate with a King or even a Saviour, but we do. This all seems a bit backwards: the Saviour of the world, a King majestic in power, who is God, dies in this way.

In the reading from the epistle to the Colossians, we are reminded not only of the kingship of Jesus but also the fact that He is the exact image of God the Father. Jesus is not only the image of God but actually is God.

This Sunday we are reminded of who Jesus is and why He came. This is why it is backwards. In fact, when we think of the reason why Jesus came and then start the season of Advent next Sunday, when we prepare for Jesus’ coming, then to think of the crucifixion this morning has helped us to think of why we celebrate.

Christ the King means a different image—not one of kingship in the ways we would assume but rather one of suffering and care. The reading from Paul’s letter to the Colossians reminds us of the majesty and wonder of Christ, meaning the anointed one, and the gospel shows us that this means that Jesus has become one of us and died for us.

There is a hymn that sums up well the kingship of Jesus and also what our response should be to Him. I would like to read some of the words of this:

*From heav’n you came, helpless babe,

entered our world, your glory veiled;

not to be served but to serve,

and give your life that we might live.

This is our God, the Servant King,

he calls us now to follow him,

to bring our lives as a daily offering 

of worship to the Servant King.

The question is: what does this mean to us? As we prepare for Christmas and the beginning of the Advent season, are we ready to remember all that Jesus has done for us?

There are three things that I think we can think of.

Firstly, the fact that Jesus turns everything upside down and is not the King the people were expecting, who would defeat the Romans in a mighty battle, reminds us that Jesus can turn our lives upside down in ways that we might not expect. We worship a King who tore apart social conventions and offered a better world. This means that it is not only our task to be ready for Jesus to turn our lives upside down, though; it means that it is our task to offer a better world by reaching out even to those we wouldn’t normally wish to and to offer them, in our lives and in the way we behave, the love of Christ.

Secondly, because Jesus is the King and we worship Him as such, we need to be thankful for all He offers us. The fact that Jesus died and rose again and is majestic means that we have a King and Saviour we can trust. He has not let us down, and He never will. When Jesus makes promises, they are real and lasting.

Thirdly, we are privileged; we are people who know and worship the ultimate, even if unexpected, King.

Our response to all of this can be in the last verse of the hymn that I read some of earlier, and I pray that this will be our goal today and every day:

So let us learn how to serve,

And in our lives enthrone Him;

Each other’s needs to prefer,

For it is Christ we’re serving.

Where do I fit in ?

 This morning is a set time in the year when we remember all those who have fought in wars, all those affected by war, and all those in the services and their families. A time when we think once again of hope and the need for peace.

Remembrance Sunday is one of those days when you should just know what to say, one of those days when the sermon should be obvious—but this bothers me a little. Why? Well, today is an important day, and sometimes when we know what is likely to be said, we can lose focus on why we are doing what we are doing.

I used to be chaplain to the Air Cadets in a previous church. I remember helping them think about today ahead of the big town remembrance parade they were going to be part of. To do this, I asked them why remembrance is so important.

The usual answers were given, as they talked about poppies, the World Wars, families of service people, wars today, and the need to remember. I kept pushing for more just out of interest, and they said to offer respect and to think about where we fit in.

I remember being very impressed with this answer. It felt as if they were thinking towards the future as well as the past and the present day.

This morning I want to think past the obvious and think about where we fit in today and what this means for the future. In our readings today, we heard of a better world; we have heard of hope. The reading from Job (19:23–27a), which is full of hope in the midst of gloom, has within it these wonderful words: “I know that my Redeemer lives.” In the Psalm (17:1–8), we praised God because He is greatly to be praised. In the reading from the second letter to the Thessalonians (2:1–5, 13–17), we were reminded not to be shaken or alarmed but to give thanks because Jesus loves us, and through grace He will give us eternal comfort. Then in the Gospel reading (Luke 20:27–38), we heard that life is everlasting, it continues, and God is the God of the living.

The readings are full of hope, and it is this hope which frames our remembering on this day as we think to a better future as we work to make the world a better place. When I was looking at the readings, I thought of how hard it must be for people living in war-torn areas to think of peace and to want to praise and exalt God, announcing that He lives when all they see is devastation. When I looked at the epistle reading (2 Thess. 2:1–5, 13–17) with its warning not to be alarmed, I thought that actually I would find it very difficult in certain situations not to be alarmed—such as my home being attacked, seeing people dying, and a world where nothing makes sense anymore. Yet, the readings remind us that all these thoughts are overtaken by the knowledge that God is greater, He loves us, and He is in control.

We could almost feel quite useless, except we have a role to play to make the world better, and it is this which can move us past the natural and correct role of remembering to another role of hoping and praying for a better world.

We remember so we can make things better; we try to bring peace by the way we live. In our readings, we have been reminded of the hope we have in God, and it is this hope which will help us to remember better. We need to make our memories bigger as we remember not what has been but what can be. As we think of the future, this is how we will see where we fit in.

We know that our Redeemer lives, we know that we need not be alarmed, we know that life is everlasting—but it is not always easy to live this way. Today could be an incredibly despondent day. Because today we think of the past and the hope people had for a better world, but we know that the world is still in torment today.

We need to remember bigger because we know that God both can and does give light. I remember a service I used to attend fairly regularly. At this service, there were pictures up on a projector to help focus prayers. One picture was of a place full of rubble and darkness, within which there was one candle. In the middle of all this devastation, the light of Christ shone through in the candle. This picture always moved me to think of hope and to remember the words of Mother Teresa, who said that it was better to light a candle than to curse the dark. As we see despair, we need to remember that there is hope because our Redeemer lives.

We need to think differently; we need to see beyond the annual memory of this day to a better day. A day when everyone will know that their Redeemer lives, a day when everyone will know the love and grace of God, a day when everyone will know that they are truly loved.

This day, as we think and remember all that has been done for us by our troops, as we think of all those affected by war, so we need to think wider—to the greatest act of love ever seen by the sacrifice of the Prince of Peace.

If all we ever learn in life is that Jesus loves us, then we will know everything. Remembrance is about the past, the present, and the future. The future for us is to continue the traditions that we have been taught, as it said in the epistle reading. Those traditions being to worship God, to pray for a better world, and by seeking to be more like Jesus, to do our bit.

May we be as ready to remember and respect as we are to love everyone and pray for peace. May this day truly be a day of hope in our remembrance.

AMEN