Just at the end of the liturgical year, and just at the outset of another, falls one of my favorite celebrations of the church year. Christ the King Sunday. This year it falls on November 24.
Every year, it seems, I feel deeply in need of this Sunday, when it rolls around. It is so very good from time to time, I have found, to make a pause in our very busy schedules, take a deep breath, lift our hearts heavenward – maybe fall to our knees, too – and remember that Christ is King.
He is Counselor, yes – but so much more. This is the Counselor who holds the baton. This is the Counselor who maintains the tune. He is Shepherd, it is true – yet so much more. This is the Shepherd who keeps the earth afloat. This is the one who tends his lambs – then breathes fire into stars and hangs them in the sky. He is Friend, and Shield, and Redeemer. He is Lord, and Light, and Life itself. And he is King!
When this Shepherd says, “You are mine,” his judgment is utterly dependable. When this Counselor says, “I will lead you,” we can lean on his hand entirely. When this Redeemer says, “I have covered your sin; I have made you my own,” nothing in heaven or earth can dissuade him. And when this Lord leads us into mission, well, the resources of heaven itself stand behind the invitation, and ahead along the way.
There are so many moments in life (in my life, anyway) when I need again this good reminder.
My dear old mother has been dying in recent days: she might have made her way to heaven by the time you receive this newsletter. Another dear old mother – mother to one of our missionary staff – made the journey just days ago. And you can think of dear ones on this journey, too.
And there is illness: I am thinking of friends with recently discovered cancer, or upcoming surgeries, or worse. And there is violence: I am thinking of a friend who was violently robbed, a few days ago. And there are so many additional creative varieties of calamity: a friend questioned by police; another recently sued; a church in open schism; a project in legal jeopardy; a family stuck in the airport in some kind of visa limbo… and that, of course, is only this week.
Yet Christ is King.
If it were not so – if his gracious sovereignty were not so dependable – we would feel the need to manipulate things (and sometimes one another) to fit them into our own sense of order or correctness. If it were not so, we would feel the need to insist on our own agenda, to press our own advantage or insight, and to fault others who bring insights of their own. We would find it difficult to acknowledge ourselves as sinners. We would find trust and humility nearly impossible and pride nearly inevitable, if Christ were not dependably King.
And we would find it difficult to follow the Lord of the harvest into the harvest field. We would fear that he might turn us out or leave us on our own, sooner or later. Creative calamities would overtake us. The loss of loved ones, or cancer and surgery, or weakness and doubt – any number of things – would seem to us perfectly logical (and eventually insurmountable) obstacles to life and mission.
Yet Christ is King.
This does not mean that Christ causes the creative calamities of our lives, precisely. To put it so would reduce his sovereignty, in my estimation, into some logic or sequence that our feeble minds can comprehend. His sovereignty is greater than this.
It means that nothing can surprise him. Nothing can be found outside of his design or beyond his command. It means that “all things” can be trusted “to work together for good, for those who love God” (Romans 8:28).
Just now at the close of another church year, and the beginning of another, it is good to pause, take a deep breath, and remember: Christ is King! We may trust him with everything. We may follow him anywhere. He will take us by the hand, if we let him. And he may make of us anything.