Poor King

The other day my friend texted me in desperate need of prayers. So I asked my students to pray for her. First we prayed the Hail Mary, then we marched and skipped around the room shouting praises to God.

The children came up with quite a list of names for God which they announced triumphantly as we moved. Some included: “You are the Divine Visition (Physician)!,” “You are the Vine of Love!,” “You are the only Son of God!,” “You are the only King!,” “You are the King of my Heart!,” “You are the Redeemer!,” “You are the Light of the World!,” “You are Great!”


My friend was moved by these children's sincere prayers, and I was impressed by their desire to praise God by announcing His names.

The one that stuck with me is, “King of my heart.” I need to work on allowing Jesus room to rule my heart, and recognize Him as a king who is kind, merciful, just and tender, Who leads me to newness of life and forgiveness.

Another friend and I talked about Jesus as king, but this friend did not share my immediate joy. He said that it’s antiquated to call Jesus “king” because no one has an experience of kings these days. He said people can’t relate to it and we need new language.

I disagreed with him about different language, but think perhaps we do need a reminder of what a king is. 

So, I looked up “king” online and found a few definitions. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “king” as “a male monarch of a major territorial unit; especially: one whose position is hereditary and who rules for life.”

Other definitions include: “a boy or man who is highly respected and very successful or popular,” and “one that holds a preeminent position; especially: a chief among competitors.”

For some reason, I don’t think “king” was a nickname Jesus had as small a carpenter’s son; and I don’t think my friend’s “new language” means we should call Jesus a corporate executive – it just doesn’t have quite the same ring as king.

Here’s how I understand the first definition as it relates to Jesus:

• ·         A male monarch: Jesus is the “sole and absolute ruler.” He is the only one who can fully govern my heart.

• ·         Of a major territorial unit: Jesus’ territory is heaven and earth—where the saints live and where I live.

• ·         Position is hereditary: Jesus got His position from and with His Father; “begotten not made, consubstantial with the Father.” Jesus’ Father is my Father too.

• ·         Who rules for life: Jesus rules FOR life – He gives His whole life for the salvation of my life and the life of all mankind. He rules so I can participate in his heritage.

“Your God is King!” proclaims Isiah.  And He’s coming very soon.

How does a king come? With an entourage, in glory. He enters the town gallantly on a horse, charging in after a victory. He is preceded by trumpeters, a herald, and a royal decree. He is greeted joyfully by the townspeople who run to him waving and singing and dancing. They shower the ground with flowers and genuinely welcome him home.

At Christmas, my King comes as a tiny baby, born “at midnight in the piercing cold,” (as the St. Andrew novena says). He is poor and shivering. His cry breaks through the silent night.

Were people surprised? Disappointed? Confused? Yes.

Jesus didn’t fit into the “normal” definition of king. He couldn’t possibly. He wasn’t made to fit in a box. His tiny existence blows “king” up into a much deeper, wider more glorious role that no one else can fill.

And he rules through poverty.

This surprises Small Camel in the book Small Camel Follows the Star by Rachel W. Brown. He asks, “Where is the palace, Mama?” when he approaches Jesus’ humble abode.

His mother, a seasoned traveler, replies with trust in her master (which symbolizes trust in God), “Balthasar will find it.”

When Small Camel sees Jesus in a shanty house, he kneels in homage and is immediately struck with wonder and awe. God broke through his preconceived judgement to show him the radical richness of a poor king.

I told my first graders that poor people bring me joy – just like Small Camel experienced when he finally saw King Jesus.

Yesterday, I experienced that joy in poverty when I met a homeless king on a run/walk with my friend. I was compelled to stop, ask the man his name and if he’d eaten. He hadn’t, so we brought back food.

The man was grateful. He told us about his interest in history books and his life as a travelling “marshal” who spent time in prison, camped in the woods and sees butterflies and lightening bugs as his companions. He laughed in amazement at the time when he woke up to a raccoon staring him in the face.

When our conversation ended, my friend and I walked on, but I had to run back, hug that man and bless his forehead. Why? Because in my poverty, I saw myself in that man. I have felt homeless, hungry and alone. People have hugged me and blessed me in my darkest moments and those simple acts gave me hope.

When I hugged that man, he smiled with glowing eyes. He told me he’s going to sit on the steps of a church for Christmas, and I told him I hope he goes inside.

The crib to the cross. That’s the life my King came to live. Jesus is born in the humblest way to govern all people, to love all people. He experienced intimately the poverty of all mankind so He could do the will of the Father. Because where there is poverty, there is room for God to live.

Jesus rules in poverty, through tiny miracles in everyday events.If I have the courage to trust God in the midst of weakness, anxiety and darkness, I can see the Kingdom of Heaven right here. With the people around me, in my own city, in the Bethlehem of my heart.