The Rev. Rob Fisher

St. Dunstan’s, Carmel Valley

Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Canticle 4 or 16; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit—Amen.

It was roughly at this time of year, four years ago.

It was the time of year when the darkness starts coming early in the afternoon, and when the chill in the evening air is countered by the cheerful lights suddenly sprouting on the buildings and trees everywhere.

Back then Sarah was the editor of a magazine, and she had to be in New York for a whole week to run her magazine’s annual symposium.  Since Zoe was only two months old, she was still nursing, and all three of us had to come along for this work week.  My role was to be the support staff, to take care of Zoe at the hotel, and to bring her to Sarah for the feedings.  I was the “manny.”

One of those days when I was feeling a bit adventurous, I packed a bottle and schlepped our child all over Manhattan.  Zoe got to see many of the great neighborhoods of New York, or at least she would have if she had not slept through most of it.

One of our stops was at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  The Met sits within Central Park, facing Fifth Avenue.  We came out and down the steps of the great museum just as darkness was falling upon the buildings and street lamps were turning on.

I took my place at the bus stop, with the folded stroller in one hand, and with the tiny child buckled into her portable car seat in the other hand, with a blanket over the top.  The diaper bag was slung like a satchel over my shoulder.

After waiting a long while, the downtown bus came.  We had to scrunch into whatever space we could.  It was very crowded because that night was the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, and many of the people were going down to see it.  The bus grew so absolutely packed that in a few stops the bus driver had to start telling people that there was no room for any additional passengers

As we passed through Midtown we saw the Christmas decorations on all the storefronts of Fifth Avenue, and we saw the doors wide open at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, sitting opposite the giant, unlit Rockefeller Center tree.  The mass of people on the sidewalk was a spectacle of humanity, just as packed outside of the bus as it was inside of the bus.  I stood and tried to keep my balance as the bus lurched forward and then stopped over and over, heavy laden with all my gear, with people all around me—trying very hard not to fall on them

Eventually, we passed Midtown, and the people gradually began to clear out

One lady, who was with her very elderly mother, spoke to me and said she remembered when she was in my shoes—traveling on the city’s public transportation with her own children.  She said that it was very hard.

But then she gestured toward her disabled mother, whom she loved very much, and said, “This is even harder.”

Then she share a bit of wisdom:

She said that of all the challenges of caring for a child, or a parent, or anyone who needs your care, nothing matters as much as that the person know that she is wanted.  That is really the most important thing.  Being wanted.

***

Today we are in the midst of a changing season.  The sunlight is at a different angle, and there are new smells in the air—the smell of rain on the grass, and of smoke coming from chimneys.

Likewise, we are in the midst of changing seasons in the church year.

We have ways of marking the change of time, as we change the prayers we say, and we change the colors of our vestments.  Today is the last Sunday of the longest season of the year, which is the season called Pentecost.  It is marked most of the time by the color green, except for special days like today.  Next Sunday begins the season of Advent.  The color will be purple.  Some churches use the color blue for Advent because it is the color for Mary.

But this final day of the long season of Pentecost ends with a bang.  We call it the Sunday of Christ the King.  The color is white, which is a celebratory color.  White is the color of Christmas, and Easter, All Saints Day and other special days in the church calendar.

The first reading today comes from Jeremiah.

Jeremiah was a prophet in Judah during the time just before the end of the First Temple Period.  His life spanned the time of five kings, and during that time he gave prophecies, warning that Israel’s relationship with God was broken.  And at the end of this time, the temple of Solomon was destroyed as the Babylonians came and took over Jerusalem, sending the Jews into exile in 587 BC.

You may wonder what this has to do with Christ the King, as you may recall Jeremiah was not talking about kings but about shepherds.  He says:

“Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! Says the Lord.  Therefore . . . concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. So I will attend to you for your evil doings….Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold….I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the Lord.”

Jeremiah is not talking about shepherds.  He is talking about the kings of Israel and Judah who have not led the people in the ways of the Lord.

And Jeremiah goes on to say that God will send a new king, who will bring justice and righteousness to the land.

He will be a king who will truly walk with God, and who will rule with love.

***

Even more stunning is the passage from Luke, in which Jesus is hanging on the cross, with a criminal on each side of him.

The words of Jesus are not words of anger.  Instead, he says: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”

And then come three insults—three insults which get progressively worse.  The first is from the religious leaders, who “scoff” at him, saying “He saved others; let him save himself.”

Next we go down a rung to the Roman soldiers, the miserable tools of the Roman Empire, who “mock” him, saying “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.”

Ironically, these soldiers hang a sign over him that says “King of the Jews.”  It is very ironic because it is intended to mock him, but in actuality the sign is correct.  He is a king.

And finally, surely the lowest character in this scene—the criminal at his side—“derides” him, saying “Are you not the Messiah?  Save yourself and us!”

But here is where the story turns around.  The second criminal responds to the first saying, “Do you not fear God?”  Then, speaking to Jesus, he says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

This man, though a criminal, lower than all the rest and being justly executed for some horrible crime, sees the truth that all the others have missed.  By saying “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom,” he is the only one to recognize that Jesus has a kingdom—that he is a king.

And Jesus responds with words of welcome, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

***

Christ is a king who rules out of meekness and love.

Christ is a king who rules by showing us that we are more than subjects to his reign, but beloved children in his care.  His power is based not on might, but on love.

Christ’s reign is breathtaking because it shows us that in the eyes of God we are cherished.  We are wanted.

William Sloane Coffin writes that:

The trouble with the traditional notion of [obedience to God] is that it sees obedience in relation to God’s power, rather than to God’s love.

God wants not submission to his power, but [that we] in response to his love [would give him] our own.

—Amen.