More musings on Christ the King Sunday...

Tomorrow is Christ the King Sunday.  My 80+ year old friend who recently moved to Florida to be closer to family just wrote me that his congregation is NOT marking this day.  It seems that many in his new and very large congregation are refugees from fundamentalism.  And at least for the time being, they have created a church home that is more abstract and Unitarian than the overtly radical Christian faith that is near and dear to our hearts. He is frustrated both that mean-spirited congregations have wounded some dear souls so profoundly that they don't feel safe with the fullness of Jesus; and, that sometimes our liberal congregations don't help people move through the wilderness of their wounds. Instead, in our commitment to inclusivity, we can sacralize the brokenness so that nothing changes:  no healing, no greater intimacy, no deeper insights into the limits of our pain in light of God's deeper grace.  In a word, we don't speak of a Christ whose love can help us beyond being stuck, addicted or afraid.

To that end, because we are both poets, I found myself looking for poems about Christ the King Sunday for him - but I haven't been too successful.  Most are crap - waaaaaaaay too sentimental for my spirituality - making me think that God must get so bored with our bullshit and sloppy agape. And then I found this one from Tom Blair in Maryland called "The King and I."

The King and I

neither old, or dead, nor robed in satin with ermine trim,
not now collecting dust on the bookshelf of history,
this King is willing and ready to stop, look and listen.

needing no man or maidservant, stepping down from his throne
into the mud of my life,
despite my weaknesses and grudges,
working in me, remaking me, bit by bit, day by day.

in a world of rough and tumble living, claims of power attract.
Your message, King Jesus, is clothed in humility, you claim nothing
but a desire for my soul to be given over to the point of deepest need.
You are a mirror to the unknown territory of my heart.
no muscle here, no force,
only the magnetism of your holiness in flesh and blood,
drawing me toward your way.

Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” John 18:37

This rings true for me - so enjoy good and faithful servant.