Good morning ministers. If you attend St. George's regularly, you may have noticed a theme in my previous sermons. A theme that emphasizes faith expressed in the greater community. However this morning, I want to make that theme a little more obvious...a little more bold. Young, old, men, women, white, black, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, citizen, immigrant, refugee, educated, uneducated, we as baptized Christians are all ministers. You do not need a "Reverend" before your name or a collar around you neck to be a minister. We are all missionaries in our every day lives.

Now, many of the people that I know get uncomfortable when they hear the word missionary or the word minister. It conjures up images of the crusades or attempts to destroy various indigenous cultures both here in the United States and around the world. Indeed our Thanksgiving Holiday is touched by a complicated and bloody history of European conquest often under the title of mission.

That being said, I don't think we should abandon the term mission or the titles of minister and missionary. Rather, I think we need reclaim, re-clarify and re-imagine these concepts. To be a missionary is to be sent. It is to be given an assignment and a purpose. As believers in God and the Gospel, we are baptized into the church and through baptism become ministers. Our baptismal covenant lays out a clear mission for us as an assignment to be carried out in our daily lives. We are to be missionaries of the good news and to manifest the love of God in our lives by being people of hospitality, generosity, justice and forgiveness. We are to be missionaries to our families, to our friends, to our neighbors and to our enemies, by loving one another. Each of us has been given specific gifts by our creator to use in our lives.

To be a missionary is to be part of something larger. It is to be part of a great story, a narrative of reconciliation. We each have a role in that story. It may not be flashy or grandiose, and it may not make the headlines or earn you an award for volunteerism, but you have something to offer. Listen, you have a part to play in the story that we call the Kingdom of God.

This Sunday, we celebrate part of that great narrative. This is the last Sunday of the church year and every year we use this day to honor Christ the King. Each year, the church asserts the total authority of Christ over creation. Now, I recognize that "king" is another one of those words that is problematic for many people. It is a term we have inherited from a time when kings and queens were the normal form of government. The assertion that Christ is King of Kings and Lord of Lords implies an authority beyond any manifestation of government. Our allegiance is first to God and thus allows us to critique any and all governments.

This is actually a radical claim in the context of Jesus, because his life and teachings challenged people to not seek their own security but rather to reach out to their neighbors in love. To practice justice and humility before greed. Indeed, it is a strange thing to claim that one who is executed would be the true ruler. And yet, that is what we claim—a radical assertion of authority over all aspects of life, and it implies that our faith inform our every day lives as we seek to serve Christ.

Our readings this morning also add an interesting and decidedly political element to our understanding of Christ the King. The books of Daniel and Revelation are fertile ground for anyone interested in the end-times, as Mary told us last week. They are filled with strange and almost horrifying imagery. Indeed, the images in Daniel today of God on a throne with flames shooting out and lava flowing all around are down right scary. From our perspective living in 2006, the images of horns and beasts are odd and inaccessible, but to the people living at the time the imagery had meaning and context.

Daniel lived during a time when the people of Israel were living in exile in Babylon. They were a conquered people, taken from their land and forced to worship the Gods of Babylon, who were Gods of domination, war and destruction. Daniel's dreams, however, subjugate these gods into a narrative of God's reconciliation with the people of Israel. In so doing, much of the book of Daniel is a political assertion of the God of Israel over the foreign rule of Babylon. Daniel often envisions great cosmic struggles of angels and beasts representing various political powers at the time. The angel Michael often appears as the great protector of Israel and many scholars believe Michael is actually the one coroneted in the reading we heard this morning. At the time, Michael represented the reestablishment of Israel as a sovereign nation. Christians later reread this vision and saw it as a sign of the second coming of Christ. In both cases, the story signals that things are not as they always be and that there is a greater narrative unfolding even if the present situation appears otherwise.

Just as Daniel wrote during a time of exile, John wrote Revelation from exile. He was a pastor who was exiled to Patmos, a prison island. He wrote to seven churches to reassure them of God's love and to admonish them to be faithful, especially in his absence. Again, his colorful imagery demonstrates a larger narrative, in which we as individuals play a part. To do so, John utilizes images from Daniel, other parts of the Hebrew scriptures, and his contemporary culture. Although not obvious to us, John's message asserts the power of God over the Roman Empire. Indeed, he often uses Babylon as code for Rome.

Likewise, the Gospel today recounts a political and spiritual narrative. Jesus and his disciples stage a rally of sorts. Essentially this is a peasant uprising. Up to this point, Jesus has mostly been out in the country in and out of small towns and villages. He has slowly made his way to Jerusalem. His entry is a political statement. He enters as a king, albeit a peasant king given his mighty steed is a lowly mule rather than a chariot. The crowd shouts that he is the king, the descendent of David who will liberate the people. He comes in to the city, looks around to check things out and then retires to a small nearby village for the night. The next day, Jesus goes right into the temple, turns over the moneychangers tables, acts like a ruler and challenges the authorities. These clashes lead to the crucifixion, the execution of Jesus under the political charge of King of the Jews.

In each of these readings, we are given a glimpse that behind the headlines is a larger narrative. A narrative in which a new reality is unfolding. In baptism, we are initiated into a way of life--a path of hospitality, generosity, compassion, love and justice. We are all ministers, missionaries with assignments to use our gifts every day in service of a larger narrative.

The Episcopal Church has recently agreed to participate in another narrative -- a story that ends in the eradication of extreme poverty. We have pledged to work toward the Millennium Development Goals established by the United Nations. While I've spoken this morning, more than 250 children have died from completely preventable or easily treatable diseases. Locally, despite the great abundance of our community, more than seven thousand of our brothers and sisters will spend the holidays homeless.

As we enter the holiday season and are inundated with messages of consumerism and greed, remember that we have a mission to bring love and reconciliation to the world. I hope that as you prepare to celebrate with those you care about, that you will also remember our neighbors that are hungry or alone or sick or neglected. I hope that you will practice your faith in acts of compassion for strangers this month.

We are missionaries, ministers in a larger narrative. As we enter Advent, I hope that you will make an effort to spend time each day in prayer asking God to give you clarity about your gifts for service and guidance on how to use your gifts in service of the Kingdom.

Let us go in peace to love and serve the Lord. Amen.