Do You Know What You Are Asking For?

The Rev. Whitworth Ferguson III
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
November 26, 2006
Christ the King Sunday

Do You Know What You Are Asking For?
John 18:33-37
1 Sam. 8:1-22

“We want a king! We want a king!
We want a king to govern over us.
One who will go out and lead us in battle.
We want a king so we can be like other nations!”
The people were demanding a king;
Nothing else would do.

This was not the first time
the children of Israel had demanded a king.
When Gideon judged the people,
they demanded that he rule over them,
but he replied, “I will not rule over you;
the Lord will rule over you.”
(Judges 8:23)
Gideon knew that the Lord was King.

Jump ahead a few hundred years to the time of our first lesson;
It is more than a thousand years before the birth of Jesus.
The people were filled with their desire,
even their demand,
that they have a king to rule over them,
a king so that they could be like every other nation.
Judges were not enough;
Prophets were not enough;
Only a king would do.

The prophet Samuel sighed
and realized there was nothing he could do;
Nothing he could do
other than turn the people’s demand over to God.
So he lifted up his voice in frustration.
And God responded:
“Listen to the voice of the people in all that they say to you;
for they have not rejected you,
but they have rejected me from being king over them.”
(1 Sam 8:7)

Hadn’t God led the children of Israel out of slavery?
Hadn’t God led them through the wilderness,
into the promised land?
Hadn’t God called the children of his Israel to be his people?
Hadn’t he looked after them, watched over them,
loved them?
Ah, but how quick humans are to forget.
How quick the children of Israel were
to overlook Moses’ teachings:
… Take care that you do not forget the Lord your God...”
(Deut. 8:11ff)
“Take care that you do not forget the one
from whom all blessings flow.”

The people wanted a king, but in the process
they seemed to have overlooked one significant fact:
they already had a king, the Lord God.
They wanted a different king,
one who would lead them in battle,
one who would make them like other nations.

Did they really know what they were asking for?
Did they understand?
As the cliché reminds us,
be careful what you wish for;
you just might get it.

God granted them their request
and led Samuel to Saul,
who became the first king of Israel.
Saul was followed by David,
and David was followed by his son Solomon.

After a rough start under Saul,
things went well under David:
the northern and southern kingdoms were unified,
and by the end of David’s life and reign,
the people lived in peace.
Solomon’s reign was also peaceful;
He was adept at creating alliances with other nations,
trading alliances, that kept countries focused on doing business
with each other rather than on fighting with one another.

It was when Solomon died and his son ascended to the throne,
that things began to slide downhill.
The son was nothing like his father:
he was vain, arrogant, petulant, petty.
It was not long before the peace and prosperity
the people knew under Solomon evaporated.
And each succeeding king was worse than the one before.
Decade after decade, century after century:
corruption, faithlessness, turmoil, war.
Invasions by one army after another:
Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes, Persians, Greeks,
and then finally the Romans.

A thousand years after they had first sought a king,
the people looked back on the days of King David
and sought the glory they once had had,
Their prayer went up again: “we need a king!”
A strong man,
an honest man
a man worthy of
sitting on the throne of King David.

And then one winter’s night
the news spread across the land:
a king had been born,
a king who would lead the people of Israel,
the children of God;
A king, born in a stable in Bethlehem.
Micah’s prophesy from centuries earlier finally had come true:
“From you, O Bethlehem,
shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel….”
(Micah 5:2)

This baby born in the cold and dark
was to be the king!
“The Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.
he will reign over the house of Jacob forever,
and of his kingdom there shall be no end.”
(Luke 1:32)
The words of the angel Gabriel to Mary.

This news was so wondrous, so astounding
that it quickly traveled
beyond the borders of Israel, to distant lands,
to the ears of wise men who came
seeking the “child who has been born king of the Jews.”
(Matthew 2:2)
Hope was born that night.

The years passed, and the people waited,
watched and waited,
waited for that day when the king would mount his steed,
sword at the ready,
and lead the people into battle,
battle to restore the people of Israel to their land,
battle to restore them as a people,
restore them to their glory.

And yet the one about whom the rumors swirled like dust
in a desert eddy did not look a like a king,
he did not act like a king.
He traveled through the countryside,
but no one ever saw him astride a mighty white stallion,
no one ever saw him with a sword at the ready,
no one ever saw him train his followers
with shields and spears.

Yes, he did ride triumphantly into Jerusalem for the Passover,
but he was on the back of a donkey,
a humble, lowly donkey,
a donkey borrowed for that one moment.
And his followers for all their enthusiasm,
didn’t carry swords or spears,
but palm branches.

Is it any wonder that Pilate was incredulous when
the guards brought Jesus before him following his arrest?
To the Roman governor, with the power of the Roman army
behind him, the very idea that this Jesus
might have been a king seemed ludicrous.
But when Pilate confronted Jesus,
and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”
Jesus, responded in a way that Pilate didn’t expect,
“My kingdom is not from this world.”

Pilate had no idea what Jesus was talking about.
He must have found it all so very tiresome,
“So you are a King,” he said to Jesus.
“You say that I am a king,” came the response.
But it was clear to Pilate that Jesus was no king:
he had no power, no wealth,
no trappings, no retinue
no palace, no army.
He did not look like a king,
he did not act like a king,
he did not talk like a king.

The children of Israel thought the same thing,
that clearly this Jesus wasn’t the one they were waiting for,
and so they turned from him.

We hear this story, this story of events and people
that go back 2,000 years, …….3,000 years and more.
And yet we dare not even for a second think
that this is a story about another people
in another time in another place.
This is our story, too.
We still picture a king as a mighty warrior
a strong man girded in armor.
How can our king be humble man,
a gaunt man, with weathered skin,
burnt from the sun and the dust,
a man who was not to be found holding court in a palace,
but sitting at a table with the blind, the lame, the sick;
a man who could be found not with the wealthy,
the powerful,
the celebrities,
but with the lowly, the outcasts?

Our King calls us to a kingdom that is not of this earth,
and so it stands to reason
that our king should not be of this earth.
He will not fit our definition, our image of a king.
The British composer John Rutter reminds us
in his lovely “Christmas Lullaby” that Jesus our king
rules with “peace as his scepter
and love as his crown.”
This is the king we are called to follow.
The king who calls us through love
to follow by love,
sharing love.

The one difference we have from our ancestors in faith
is that we don’t have to watch and wait,
for our King is here now.
And the kingdom is here now.
The kingdom is not something that will happen
at some time in the future,
No, our Lord himself made clear,
“The kingdom of God is not coming
with things that can be observed…
for in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.”
(Luke 17:20-21)
When Jesus sent his apostles out, he did not send them out
to proclaim the coming of the kingdom,
he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom. (Luke 9:2)
And if we are not sure what we are looking for,
Paul helps us by reminding us that
“The kingdom of God is … righteousness and
peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17)

The power in this kingdom is not money,
not political power,
not military might;
it is love,
it is patience,
it is peace,
all things that endure, that don’t fade away.
The most powerful ruler,
the richest king,
the leader of the greatest army:
they are the stuff of history books
Christ our King is the stuff of life, real life,
the life that matters.

It is fitting that we end our liturgical calendar each year
with “Christ the King Sunday”
to help us to remember that we don’t have to pray for a king;
our King is with us.

Next week, we will begin a new liturgical year with Advent,
and the color of Advent is purple,
the color of royality,
a fitting reminder that Advent is a time for us
to prepare to celebrate
the birth of our Lord Christ the King,
and to anticipate that day
when Christ our King will come again,
come not to bring the Kingdom,
but to complete the kingdom,
the kingdom that is already underway,
the kingdom you and I are called to build
under the sovereign leadership
of the Lord our King,
the King whose scepter is peace,
and whose crown is love.
And “his authority shall grow continually,
and there shall be endless peace
for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it
with justice and with righteousness,
from this time onward and forever more.”
(Isaiah 9:7)
AMEN