Sunday, November 22, 2020             (today’s lectionary)
I was in prison, and you visited me
Don’t look now, but this is the last Sunday before Advent returns for the 2000+th plus time, and we’ll be singing and rejoicing at first in minor keys and then all the major ones. Life gets good in December. Advent carries us along to Christmas, till we can sit together in front of a cradle, watching our breath bloom in the cold air, smelling the sweet earthy donkey and cow and chicken and pig, and sing about this beautiful baby come from God.
But for now? O, well, this is just an Ordinary Sunday, marked by a special solemnity:
The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. Say it once, say it twice, and mean it more and more. King of the Universe. KINGOFTHEUNIVERSE. Dallas Willard said, with some understatement, “Jesus Christ was the smartest man who ever lived.”
The Lord says, “I will tend my sheep. I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark. I will give them rest.
For days now, the scenes from Revelation have been scrolling in front of us. These lectionary texts make it hard to sit still. Fall down and worship. Stand up and sing. Lift your arms and leap up toward heaven. This guy Jesus, who was just knocking on our door yesterday, he’s the KINGOFTHEUNIVERSE. He heals the blind and cures the lame, and he makes the light shine where there was no light. The darkness has gone. Yeah, that guy. Rise up and shout!
I will seek out the lost and bring back the strays. The injured I will bind up, and I will heal the sick. But the sleek and strong I will destroy. I will be the judge between one and the other. I am your shepherd and you shall not want.
Thus begins the 34th and last week of Ordinary Time in the Year of Our Lord 2020. And what’s so ordinary about this time anyway? We’ve got COVID with masks where we once had faces. We’ve got construction and destruction in Washington, DC and London and Paris and Bonn and Beijing. And we’ve got each other. Nothing ordinary about that.
Anyway, “ordinary” doesn’t mean … ordinary. It means “not Christmas or Easter.” Vestments during Ordinary Time are green, the green of springtime hope. Deep inside that green lies gratitude, because hope is nothing without gratitude. Look back and be thankful, look forward and know the hope of Christ.
Just as in Adam we all die, so too in Christ shall we all be brought to life.
For twenty or so years I joined a dozen or so mostly Lutheran guys for weekend Kogudus renewal retreats. Seventy or so inmates signed up at correctional centers across Illinois. We traveled to Menard in Chester, Stateville in Joliet, and to Vandalia, Robinson, Lincoln and Danville. Jack Ludwig, Jerry Crane, Ron Leverich and Alan Klokkenga led us through the gates.
My friend Joe’s emotions were raw every time we arrived. His son had been killed at a rest stop years ago. The guy was caught and convicted, and Joe wondered each weekend whether he would encounter his son’s killer at a retreat. It was not a simple thing for him to walk through the door.
I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger, naked and ill, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.
We ate our meals together and shared stories in small groups. We talked through the Apostle’s Creed. We made confession, received absolution and shared communion in our own, unofficial way. Fletcher Hannah, a polished country music singer, played his guitar and led our usually rambunctious singing. And I remember Al Johnson, a big guy who taught correctional science at the U of I. Al sang with the voice of an angel, and on Sunday at every retreat, he sang Bill Gaither’s “The King is Coming,” always with tears in his eyes.
Whatever you did for one of the least of my brothers, you did for me. Then the king will say to those on his right, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”
Just as Jesus brings the peace of the Lord, which is neither careless nor casual, so he has been crowned the King, but he is never overbearing or cruel. He is KINGOFTHEUNIVERSE, and he is my King, and he is yours. His love reigns.
Your goodness and kindness follow us all the days of our life, and we shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
(Ezekiel 34, Psalm 23, 1 Corinthians 15, Mark 11, Matthew 25)
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