The Rev’d Jacky Sewell

Sunday before Advent the Feast of Christ the King
Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

A monarch’s crown is a thing of wonder. When Charles was crowned there were two used in the ceremony. King Edward’s Crown, melted down during the Civil war and remade for Charles II in 1661 has a mere 400-odd jewels, but made of solid gold is it enormously heavy and judged to be the most valuable crown in the world. Charles wore it for the crowning by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

The other crown used was the Imperial State Crown, made for George VI in 1937, with it’s enormous Cullinan II diamond and over 3,000 other precious stones. But its a mix of gold and silver and platinum, making it much lighter and easier to wear and not as highly valued. Charles put it on at the end of the ceremony to wear out of Westminster Abbey, easing the weight on his poor neck.

I was in London on that day in May 2023, camping out overnight in the Mall with some cousins. We had ring-side seats and cheered and took lots of photos. I have to confess to being a secret royalist. It does clash somewhat with my egalitarian and pro-socialist, feminist beliefs for which I’m usually known. But I’m also a sucker for horse-drawn carriages and brass bands and pipes and drums and the whole extravaganza of the day.

I’m also deeply moved by the notion and ideal of life-long service, from cradle to grave, given for the welfare of the people and not for personal glory. You can be excused for thinking that such things are hardly on display amongst a ceremony that is a showcase for wealth and extravagance and world leaders lining up with their invitations. You can also be excused for thinking that such ideals are not exactly apparent in the scandals and showcasing of lesser royals. But the wistful ideal of a benign monarch and the sacred task of putting the peace and welfare of the people above all else has much appeal alongside the posing and politicking of those who jostle for power in parliament.

Part of the thrill of the day was in the build-up. A month to go! A week to go! Make sure we get there early so we don’t miss anything! It’s the culmination of so much planning and preparation, from the hoopla in Westminster to street parties where everyone puts on their fake plastic and tinsel crowns. It is kind of like Christmas Day. Got your Santa hat and has everyone been invited? Have you ordered the mince pies yet? And yes, folks, it is only one month to go.

Why is it that we celebrate Christ the King now, today, immediately before Advent and one month before Christmas? If you’ve read Ivica’s weekly message via email or in the newssheet, you’ll have read that Pius XI instituted it in 1925 in the wake of the collapse of many European royal empires and the rise of secularism and fascism. It’s a very modern Christian tradition, an attempt to claim back Christ’s rule at the centre of Europe. 45 years later, Paul VI moved it to the Sunday before Advent where its significance as a heralding of Christ’s ultimate return as King could receive greater prominence. Since then it’s been taken up by most protestant churches as well. Christ, the ruler of the universe, is coming. And lest we get too carried away with visions of thrones and diadems adorning his head, first our knees will bow before a babe, born in the dirt, worshipped by Bedouin herdsmen, well before the arrival of the sages from the East.

For many of us, ‘King’ is an insufficient word to describe Christ’s place and centrality in the heavens and the earth. The same goes for using the word to describe God as ultimate source and power, holding all things in the palm of God’s hand. Yes, it’s a frequently-used title in our Holy Scriptures, for both God and for Christ Jesus. But it helps to remind ourselves of how it came about that ancient Israel changed from being a people without a king and without King as a title for Yahweh, to a theocracy and then to a kingdom.

Most names for God have evolved over thousands of years. El is the most ancient and uncomplicated word for God, used at the beginning of Genesis. It simply means, ‘God’. The second name for God to appear in scripture is ‘Yahweh’. Moses, in the wilderness, is confronted by a strange and bizarre phenomenon – a presence so holy and so close that he could almost reach out and feel the energies given off by that burning bush. And because he is in a foreign land, and has not yet fully comprehended that El has a task for him, he asks ‘what are you? Who are you?’ God’s voice responds. “I am who I am; I will be what I will be”. Not very helpful, we might think! But the message is there, if Moses choses to hear it: do not seek to box me in, or contain me within human speech. How ironic that the great I AM so quickly became referred to as The Lord. And yet how understandable: God is the One to whom we owe our allegiance, above any earthly ruler.

As the story of the Hebrew people unfolds and their religious life becomes more sophisticated, so too do names for God. Adonai, Lord who rules. El Shaddai, the All-sufficient One, Yahweh Yireh, The One who Provides. Moses molds them into a people with laws and rituals. They settle in the lands around Jordan and become a confederation of peoples ruled by judges, appointed locally.

By the time of Samuel, about 400 years later, the tribes are tired of being surrounded and attacked by powerful Kings. Having a King of their own sounds like a good idea! And so Samuel is confronted with a delegation, demanding that he, the holy judge of Israel, appoint a King to unite them and rule over them, like the other nations (I Samuel 8). He takes it in prayer to Yahweh, and what happens next is salutatory. Let me read it to you….

The message of Yahweh to the people is quite clear: if you want a king to rule over you, you need to go into it with your eyes wide open, because it ain’t gonna be no picnic! Faced with a revolt, Samuel and Yahweh capitulate and Saul is appointed as the first king over Israel. Within 30 years, by the time David starts composing his psalms, the human institution of a monarchy and the language of kingship has permeated the names ascribed to God and the rest, as they say, is history.

So what are we to make of this? Perhaps no more than that we earthbound, fallible, striving human beings end up using our very human concepts to try and find words that adequately describe God, source of all that is and that shall be. And that attempting to describe our allegiance and loyalty to Christ quite naturally takes up the same human imagery.

Ivica says it well in his weekly message: instead of applying human qualities to God, how about applying divine ideals and expectations onto our rulers today. King Charles was anointed at his coronation. Anointed, not in the sense that he was somehow made more ‘special’ than the rest of us, but anointed in the sense that he now has a task to perform, a task that he is anointed by God to complete. If he fails to live up to that task – ruling to serve the peace and welfare of the people – and instead seeks to feather his own nest and gain more glory – he will have failed his anointing.

You and I, each one of us who was anointed at our baptism, have also been marked by the sign of the cross for a life of service to Christ, the Suffering Servant, King of Kings, who comes riding on a donkey, not a conveyance of war, born amongst the poor, who does not seek kingdoms of this world, but bids its rulers and people alike to remember compassion and mercy. In him, as Paul says, all things hold together, for he is our head, and our heart, our beginning, and our end, our all in all. Amen.