Every Sunday I worship with Royalty. No, that’s not correct.
Every Sunday, and every minute in between them, I worship Royalty, the King of
Kings. The Ruler of the Universe. The Creator, from whom all things are made.
My Saviour, who stood in my place to take the rap for my sins, and never
stopped loving me. My Lord. Jesus.
But last Sunday, in addition to worshiping the King of
Kings, I did it in the presence of the Queen of the United Kingdom, who also
bowed her head to Jesus. Members of Crathie kirk sat in the first pews, and we
unknown visitors sat in the back half of the small church. We were far enough
forward to have good views of those members of the Royal family who were with
the monarch, as well as the Queen herself. It was exciting.
Strange, isn’t it? All the excitement over an ordinary woman
doing an extraordinary job.
We were there to support our own minister who was guest
preacher, and who did a wonderful job. He spoke on our insecurities in prayer,
our lack of expectation to see them answered, and took heart from a story in
the Bible of the early church praying earnestly for Peter’s release from
prison, but who, when he was miraculously delivered, left him pounding on the
door because they weren’t expecting their prayers to be answered.
Our faith shouldn’t be in what God will do (ie, initial our
requests and act on them every time) but in who he is. Love personified. Love
with arms outstretched to us, for us. But it’s risky to put our faith in his
love because it makes us vulnerable, open to disappointment when he doesn’t do
what we want. That’s why our love should be for him, not for what he may or may
not do. We have to trust that everything he does is for the best, even when we
don’t agree and it doesn’t make any sense to us. It’s risky.
We can’t ever love properly, though, if we don’t risk being
hurt. We have to be open and make ourselves vulnerable if we want to experience
the full flowering of true love.
I think the Queen is amazing.
But not as amazing as the King of Kings.
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