Lord of Lords, King of Kings, The Reverend David R. Williams, Last Pentecost--Year A--Nov. 20, 2005

Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under His most gracious rule…”

It is almost as if we see a curtain rise. We the people on earth stand amid divisions and brokenness, enslaved by sin, awaiting once again an image of hope. The curtain rises, and, at least for a moment, we glimpse the freeing, comforting nature of God. We touch the Sacred.

Lord of lords, King of kings.

Today, the last Sunday in the long Pentecost season, is the culmination of a journey in time. The full Church Year began with the intense anticipation of something new, a birth. Each day of each week of all of the Church seasons offers us glimpses of the Holy, the majesty of God.

At times, that majesty is most clear. Today the season--the cycle--the culmination of the seasons comes to a close. We yearn for one more glimpse of the freeing power of God’s presence. The curtain rises.

Consider an moment on the stage of our lives. The scene happens to be our Church office. It is early one morning. All is quiet, as only I have arrived. The Office Administrator, Ginny, is on vacation. Debbie, Parish Administrator, will be in shortly. Doors are opened, lights are turned on.

The Junior Warden appears in the office. He has a proposal to be considered, a project for renovation of one of our office spaces.

Another person enters. This parishioner has some calendar business to discuss. As she talks about scheduling issues, she also shares a concern about her 75 year old uncle, recently widowed.

At the same time, another parishioner comes into the office. He is Chair of the Great Hall floor project. He also has costs and proposals.

“Now, my Uncle wants a new wife! And he is determined to find one,” the first parishioner says.

Out of the corner of my eye I see in the hallway a familiar figure, an elderly man holding a small plastic sack. He seems uncomfortable with the office business moving at such a fast pace. So he waits in the hallway.

Before I can get to the outsider, the church’s new part time Sexton, John Fitch, arrives for his first day of work. He has never before met any of our folks. The scene becomes even more lively as several conversations are carried on at once. And the telephone rings.

“My uncle wants names and addresses of any widows,” our frustrated friend tells us as discussions of church projects and proposals fill the room.

Honestly, I cannot remember who was on the telephone. I make my way to the church hall. Our visitor with the plastic sack is Lester. I know Lester. We have met in my office before. Lester travels. Gets a bus ticket and goes. He has been all over the country. Usually ends up in Burlington once or twice a year. Lester is homeless.

“Haven’t seen you for several months,” I say to Lester as office conversation continues.

“I know,” answers Lester in his meek, quiet-spoken way. “I’m in town for a couple of days, staying at the shelter.”

“What can I do for you, Lester?”

“I’m a little embarrassed to ask. But I have had a little illness. I’m feeling better, but I need a fresh pair of pants. I soiled the ones I have on.”

The phone rings again. Proposals for church projects—a concerned and frustrated niece—a Sexton needing guidance.

And homeless Lester needs a fresh pair of pants.

“He will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. To the sheep he says, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

Lester needs a fresh pair of pants.

A bit bewildered, the sheep, people on the right hand say, but when did we do these things to YOU?
The King answers, “Just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” The curtain has risen!

King of kings, Lord of lords.

We have so many decisions to make, plans to work out, situations to evaluate, friendships to nurture. Are we ready for the moment – when the curtain rises - when the Lord of life is revealed in all his glory, restoring us once again to being God-centered?

A minister shares the wedding story of a distracted groom:

In the middle of the marriage ceremony, a cell phone is heard. The groom reaches in his pocket, turns from the congregation and his bride-to-be, and answers the intrusive telephone call.

True story.

After folding up the telephone and putting it back in his pocket, the groom turns to everyone and says, “You won’t believe this, but it was my life insurance man. He heard I was getting married and wanted to know if I want to upgrade my policy.”

We have created, invented, scheduled distractions from the Holy, the most Sacred places and opportunities in our lives, even the love, the vows, the sacred bond and blessing of a husband and wife.

We all are on a journey with the Church seasons as metaphor. Every now and then during the journey, a, unexpected moment, a startling event, a compelling poem or a poignant worship service may stop us, restore us and free us with the Holy Presence of God.

Our Journey to Adulthood class in travels to sacred sites of Ireland and early Christianity next spring--and with the guidance and leadership of the Rev. Marcus Losack—just may find such a sacred moment in the spring waters of Brigit’s Well--or at the foot of the High Cross of Clonmacnoise--or inside the mammoth tomb at New Grange built 3500 years before Jesus walked the earth--or at St. Kevin’s quiet place of meditation on the hill side overlooking the lakes at Glendalough. These are places of Holiness where we are reminded once again of the true King of life.

We also may be touched by the Sacred right here in time quietly spent in the Sanctuary, around the Labyrinth in the Grove or on a bench in the Memorial Garden. The experience of worship, the beauty of liturgy and the gift of angelic voices from the Alamance Girls Choir voices may move us inward and offer nourishment in our hungry lives.

As profound as any of these moments, it is Lester who is King, Lord of lords, the person ignored, forgotten, estranged, the person in mourning. The spring waters of Brigit’s Well and the inspiring anthem of our Girl’s Choir just might guide and open us to the Lesters of our world--or touch that homeless, searching part of our own hearts.

“As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

“Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule.”

Amen.