Christ the King
Sermon preached by Ed Green, Assistant Curate at St Bene’t’s
“Woe to the shepherds who are destroying and scattering the sheep of my pasture!” declares the Lord.
There are many people in our world today whom we might consider to be bad shepherds, not caring for the flock under their charge, but instead destroying and scattering them.
There are world leaders we might very well accuse of this, not seeking peaceful coexistence and plentiful resources for their people, but instead acting in their own interest, to accrue power and money.
We might think our politicians at home are bad shepherds, treating the economy not as an efficient system to be used to keep their flocks fed, but as an idol, requiring (as idols do) that some of the sheep be sacrificed.
And, there are some members of the Church of England who don’t think much of the shepherding being done by our Bishops, feeling that they have been left behind because keeping them with the flock was too much effort.
Personally, I’m not qualified to judge any of these people. But they are issued a warning by the Prophet Jeremiah. “Woe to the shepherds who are destroying and scattering the sheep of my pasture!” declares the Lord.
Of course, those of us who have already been coming to Church for a while already know the response, don’t we? We know what the Good News is.
We are promised a Good Shepherd, who becomes one of us and lives among us. We are promised a great pastor whom we know by the sound of his voice, and whom we can trust and follow. And we are promised a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land.
And if you’re new to Church, and you’ve not heard this Good News until now, you have joined us on just the right Sunday, as this morning we celebrate the Kingship of Jesus Christ over all of Heaven and all the Earth, our promised Good Shepherd who shepherds us, so that we need not fear any longer, nor be dismayed.
And starting next Sunday we enter Advent, the season of preparation and joyful anticipation of the coming of our Lord.
So whether you’ve been coming to Church for 15 minutes, or 15 years, or much longer than that, you have a Good Shepherd who will lead you, and keep you safe.
But our Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ our King, is not like the Kings or Presidents of this world. Generally, the important people with authority in this world keep themselves apart. They meet and share their space with carefully selected others. They have guards who keep them away from all but those who have been checked and are trusted. And they make their distant statements on lofty matters from illustrious buildings, wearing elaborate and expensive uniforms and crowns.
This is why it is so moving when we see them meeting and chatting with ordinary folk - but in reality even these events are carefully managed and staged.
But that’s not how Jesus rules. He is a King who walks among his subjects and breaks bread with them, who personally teaches, and heals. And at the end, he isn’t protected behind closed palace doors but among people who society has rejected.
Although he’s not done anything wrong, Jesus is tried and sentenced as a criminal, and crucified among criminals. Did Jesus demand to be kept separately from them? Did he refuse to engage with them, considering them beneath him? No.
He died with precisely the same amount of dignity as the Roman Empire gave the others - that is to say, none at all. He was not surrounded by handpicked dignitaries and nobles. He was surrounded by those whom the empire had convicted of crimes. Was he wearing a golden crown encrusted with jewels? No, he wore a crown of thorns.
And when we can’t boast about how wonderful we are, when he have to admit to him that we’ve made mistakes and let him down, he doesn’t reject us. “Truly,” he tells us, “we will be with him in paradise.”
Jesus isn’t a King who worries about his own power or his own palace. He is concerned to bring all his people back from the places they have been driven to. And this doesn’t necessarily mean a physical location.
If we are lost, and feeling distant from him, he will go to any lengths to find us and bring us back into the fold. If somebody has ever made you feel like you’re not the right sort of person for church - he’s looking for you. If you’ve been made to feel like you don’t deserve to be here - he’s looking for you. And if - and I hope that this doesn’t apply to anybody here, but if - you’ve been hurt by the church - he’s out looking for you. Because to him, we are all exactly the right sort of person, we all deserve to be here and he wants us all to be safe.
And if, when you’re honest with yourself, you have ever made somebody else feel like they don’t belong in Church, either deliberately or by thoughtlessness, Jesus is out looking for you, too. Because that is another way in which we sometimes get lost.
Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Another thing about earthly kings and other world leaders is that they are often invested in asserting their dominance through the rule of law.
And often when they do that, justice is the last thing on their minds. In the worst cases, they may be tempted to make an example of somebody who isn’t respecting their authority. But Jesus always chooses mercy, and asks the Father to forgive.
In this country, we have recently got a new earthly king. For what it’s worth, I happen to believe he’ll turn out to be a good one, and if I am correct, he will contribute, in ways appropriate to a constitutional monarch, to justice and righteousness in this land.
But by definition, an earthly king - even a good one - isn’t enough. The structures and hierarchies of the world are, well, worldly. To put it another way, they’re not divine, and they are susceptible to decidedly ungodly actions, even on occasions where people’s intentions are good. And sometimes of course, unfortunately, the intentions are not good anyway.
Our Gospel doesn’t teach that we shouldn’t try to change those structures, that we shouldn’t work for a better world, in which justice prevails and mercy is the guiding principle. It’s hard work, and sometimes it can feel futile for people like you and me. But we shouldn’t give up.
And we do have reason to be hopeful. That reason is what the church celebrates today: Christ the King, our eternal ruler who reigns not like some despotic dictator, nor like a self-interested financier, nor like a well-meaning but cowardly diplomat who chooses the path of least resistance.
We have been sent a shepherd as our king. A shepherd-king who stays out in the cold and dark with his flock, and brings with him warmth and light.
A shepherd-king who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and in doing so washes away our sins.
A shepherd-king who comes to find us when we lose our way, because he himself is the Way.
When the world seems beset with bad shepherds perpetuating unjust structures, he’s not safely locked away in a palace somewhere. He’s here, in the midst of us. And, no matter who we are, we can dare to ask him, as the criminal beside him in today’s Gospel did, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”