Prayer: Come Holy Spirit, come.  Take my lips and speak with them.  Take our minds and think with them.  Take our hearts and set them on fire with love for you.  In Christ’s name, we ask it.  Amen

Perhaps you are familiar with the history of our prayer posture.  In particular, the tradition of physically kneeling and placing our hands together like so (demonstrate).  In fact, this was not the earliest posture for prayer in Christian communities.  In the early church, Christians would stand to pray and lift their hands heavenward—a posture that seems to almost beckon the indwelling of God’s Holy Spirit.  Nonetheless, when one speaks of prayer today, I am sure most people imagine someone kneeling quietly with hands place together pointing skyward—a picture of perfect piety.  In fact, a pair of hands placed together pointing toward heaven has become a widely recognized symbol for prayer all around the world.

The fact is this familiar prayer posture did not become part of the churches tradition until the middle ages.  The practice of praying while kneeling with one’s hands together was actually taken from the European feudal system.  Kneeling and placing one’s hands together began as act of obedience and submission by a vassal to a king.  You see a lesser lord, that is a person under the king’s authority, would kneel before his king to symbolize his obedience to the king’s rule over his very life, and then he would place his hands together to demonstrate that he was not a physical threat to the king.  If the lesser lord’s hands are placed together in plain view of the king, the king can be sure that the man means him no harm—you can’t hold a weapon and hold your hands together at the same time.  It must have seemed absolutely appropriate, in those days, to apply the same posture of obedience used to honor a human king when prayerfully addressing the King of all Creation.  And so today many still choose to kneel and place hands together as a physical symbol demonstrating that God has authority over our lives—a symbol that we desire to be obedient to God’s will for us and our world.

Today is Christ the King Sunday.  So on this day the Body of Christ, which is the church, proclaims that Jesus is the King of kings and the Lord of lords.  In our epistle reading this morning, St. Paul eloquently writes, “[Jesus] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers…He is the head of the body, the church…In him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.”  Biblical scholars call this passage from Paul’s letter to the Colossians “The Supremacy of Christ.”  It has always been, is now, and will be forever the churches proclamation that Jesus is the supreme King over all that is.  Through Jesus, the world came to be in the beginning of time, and, through Jesus, the grave and gate of death has been utterly destroyed—offering all who believe life eternal.  And so today we acknowledge Jesus as King of our lives—and we offer to our King our selves, our souls and bodies to be used for His glory and the betterment of His people.

While in seminary I served at a parish in Washington, DC named Christ Church, Georgetown.  My last Easter serving at Christ Church the rector invited his mentor to be our guest preacher.  His mentor, the Rev. Canon John Andrew was the recently retired rector emeritus of St. Thomas Fifth Avenue in New York City.  I don’t know if any of you have ever been to St. Thomas Fifth Avenue, but there is not a more formal or traditional Episcopal Church in these United States.  The ushers actually have to wear formal attire Sunday mornings to greet people.  John, much like his former parish, is English and quite formal and traditional himself in all manners—his attire, speech, and even the hair on his head is at all times perfect.  As we were putting on our robes that Easter morning, John commented that while at St. Thomas’ he never wore the same robe twice on Sunday morning, and they have many services on Sunday mornings.  When I asked why, he proceeded to tell me that he refused to wear a robe into church that had a single wrinkle in it.  In fact, the altar guild ironed all his robes every single week.  This stuck me as very strange, and so I pried a bit further.  “Isn’t that a lot of unnecessary work?” I asked.  He replied in his stodgy British accent (which I am not very good as mimicking, but I’ll give it a try, “Mr. Brandon, what would you wear if you were invited to dine with the queen of England?”  I said, “I suppose a suit and tie.”  He continued, “Therefore, sir, what should you wear when you come before the King of all creation!”  John’s point, whether you agree with him or not, parallels the symbolic prayer posture of kneeling and holding one’s hands together—God in Christ is our King and we should show honor and obedience to Him—with all of our lives.

No today’s Gospel lesson assigned for Christ the King Sunday, not surprisingly, declares that Jesus is a king.  What is surprising, and must be the greatest irony in recorded history, is that the declaration, “This is the king of the Jews,” was nailed to the top of a cross on which that king hung dying—not like a king but like a common criminal.  You see Christ the King who we worship and proclaim today understood his kingship very differently than most in our world do. 

The first time Jesus is referred to as a king in Luke’s Gospel is before he is even born on that Holy Night when Mary received the strangest of visitors the Archangel Gabriel.  Gabriel was the messenger sent by God to announce to Mary that she would conceive and bear the Holy Child of God—Jesus.  Perhaps you remember Gabriel’s words, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.  And, now you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.  He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.  He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will have no end.”  The Angel came to Mary with the Good News that through her the King of kings would be coming into the world nine months later on that first Christmas Day.  The King was coming.  Now think about the circumstances of that birth.  Jesus was not born within the walls of a palace-the birth being assisted by the most skilled doctors in the entire realm.  Jesus’ birth was nothing more than majesty in the midst of the mundane. Holiness in the filth of sheep manure and sweat. Divinity entering the world on the floor of a cave, through the womb of a teenager, and in the presence of a carpenter.  Quite different I suppose than the birth of most royalty.

The circumstances surrounding Jesus being called king the second time were, in fact, a bit more kingly.  It was on that day which we now call Palm Sunday.  One week before Jesus would be nailed to the cross, he entered Jerusalem behind the cheers of countless people.  Luke writes, “As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road [and] the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!’”  But is this truly the triumphant entry of a sovereign king?  Why do you think Jesus rides into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey?  Have you ever wondered why a donkey?  To fulfill an Old Testament prophecy, maybe?  Roman emperors rode in ornate chariots as they surveyed their conquered lands and people.  Perhaps you have watched a state function in England.  The royal family always rides in a shinning carriage adorned in flowers and gold.  The carriage is pulled by a team of perfectly groomed stallions.  But the one who is King of all things both the visible and the invisible entered Jerusalem, entered his city, on the back of an ass.

This brings us back to today’s Gospel lesson.  For a third time in Luke’s gospel Jesus is called a king.  However, this time it is not a term of honor or adoration, but an accusation of treason and a mocking insult.  Luke writes, “And the people stood by watching; but the leaders scoffed at [Jesus], saying, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!’  The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, ‘If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself!’  There was also an inscription over [Jesus], ‘This is the King of the Jews.”  The inscription was intended as another insulting blow to a man dying the torturous death reserved for life’s most wretched people.  Not a very king-like moment in Jesus’ life, at least, from a worldly perspective.  What’s ironic, of course, is that the inscription was intended as a mean spirited joke and insult.  No one actually believed that the inscription was true—but it is.  The man dying on the cross is a king—the king of all creation. 

And, when you really think about it, Jesus’ suffering and death is the quintessential act of any self-respecting monarch—giving His life for every single one of His people—even you—even me.  You see a true and noble king or queen always puts the needs of those entrusted to them before their own.  So you see, at his birth, in his life, and even during his death, Jesus proves to be the perfect, the ultimate, the supreme King.

So, tonight, whether you prefer to kneel or stand to pray—whether you are in your Sunday’s best or in clothes that you have worn for days—on this day together we give honor and praise to Christ the King who gave up his life for his people—even you—even me.  Amen.                      

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