Christ the King Church, Hiawassee

Worthy of Me (Matthew 10:35-42)

Proper 9: Rest for Your Souls: Today is the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost and the opening of Movement II in our summer through Matthew. Movement I gave us the sending, the cost, and the cross. Movement II opens with the most tender words in the Gospel: Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. The context is rejection: the cities with the most exposure to Jesus have repented the least, and Jesus gives thanks that the Kingdom has been revealed not to the sophisticated but to the "nepioi" (NAY-pee-oy), the dependent and the childlike. The disciples are among the "nepioi", but the category is not closed to them alone: anyone who comes with empty hands rather than a prepared argument belongs there. Verse 27 stakes the Christological claim: the Old Testament reveals the Father, but the Son discloses him with a fullness the Law and prophets pointed toward but could not provide; the invitation is sovereign and free. The yoke Jesus offers is not effortless but good, kind, well-fitting, carried alongside the one who is gentle, "praus" (PRAH-oos), often described as strength expressed through gentleness, and lowly in heart. Zechariah 9 shows us who is speaking: the humble king on a donkey releasing prisoners of hope from the waterless pit. Psalm 145 gives us his character: gracious, merciful, good to all, and verse 14 his specific promise: the Lord upholds all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down. What does coming to Jesus with a burden look like in practice? Showing up when staying home would be easier. Bringing the actual burden to prayer, not a tidied version. The King we longed for is the King who stoops low enough to lift us up. “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:29, ESV)

Have No Fear of Them (Matthew 10:16-33)

Proper 7, Year A — June 21, 2026. Have No Fear of Them: Today is the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, and Jesus finishes the commissioning briefing he began last week. The mission that opened with such promise, the harvest, the authority, the blessing of peace on every worthy house, now receives its honest price tag: sheep among wolves, courts and floggings, families divided, hatred for the sake of the name. We are to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves, clear-eyed but guileless, and when we are dragged before power, the Spirit of the Father will speak through us. At the center of the passage, Jesus says do not be afraid three times in six verses, and each fear-not comes with a reason: the truth will be revealed, so proclaim it from the housetops; God alone holds eternity, so order our fears rightly; and the Father who attends the funeral of every sparrow has numbered the hairs of our head. Jeremiah knew this road six centuries earlier, beaten and mocked, trying to quit, but the word was a burning fire shut up in his bones. This Wednesday the Church keeps the feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist, the man who confessed before a king and paid with his head. Acknowledgment before men begins in small rooms and is sustained by one unshakeable fact: nothing about us falls to the ground apart from our Father. “Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10:31, ESV)

Pray Earnestly to the Lord of the Harvest (Matthew 9:25-10:15)

Proper 6, Year A — June 14, 2026. The harvest is plentiful, the laborers are few. As we begin our summer journey through Matthew, Jesus sends the Twelve into the harvest with a message (the kingdom is at hand), an authority (heal, raise, cleanse, cast out), and a manner (freely received, freely given). The Exodus backdrop: Israel called as a kingdom of priests at Sinai. The Barnabas connection: his feast on Thursday appointed the very passage we opened this morning.

Come, Holy Spirit: Pentecost Sunday 2026 (Acts 2:1-21)

Come, Holy Spirit: Today is Pentecost Sunday — the fiftieth day of Easter and the crown of the Easter season. We follow the Easter arc from Mary Magdalene weeping in a garden to a community of one hundred and twenty gathered in prayer, waiting for the promise Jesus made in the Upper Room on Maundy Thursday night: that the Father would send another Helper, the Paraclete, to dwell within them and empower them for their public mission. When the Spirit falls like wind and fire, the commissioned Church becomes the empowered Church — and three thousand come to faith in a single day, reversing in one morning what the Law could not undo at Sinai. Pentecost is the anti-Babel: new creation gathering what sin scattered, speaking into every nation in its own tongue, fulfilling the prayer of John 17 that they may be one. We live between the already and the not yet — the victory real, the rubble real at the same time — but we have not been left to rebuild alone. The name of Jesus has been running through every Sunday of this Easter season, and today it reaches the streets of Jerusalem and every nation under heaven. "And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." (Acts 2:21, ESV)

Kept in Your Name (John 17:1-11)

Nearing the end of the Easter season — one week before Pentecost — the sermon enters the longest recorded prayer of Jesus in any of the Gospels. We are not the audience of John 17. We are the subject. Jesus prays not for deliverance but for glorification — that the hour would accomplish what it was sent to accomplish. Later that same night in Gethsemane he would pray for the cup to pass, and together those two prayers show us a Savior who walked into the darkness with his eyes open and his will submitted. The cross and resurrection do not complete the new creation — they inaugurate it. The Ascension enthrones its king, Pentecost will pour out its power, and we are the agents of its continuation, sent into the world with the work in progress. Eternal life is not just about duration — it is about relationship, knowing the only true God and Jesus Christ whom he sent. The name thread that has run beneath the entire Easter season is gathered here: I have manifested your name. And in verse 11 comes the petition at the center of it all — Holy Father, keep them in your name — not taken out of the world but kept in it, sent into it. Psalm 68 gives us the ascended king who stoops to the fatherless and the widow, and 1 Peter 4 calls the suffering community to entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good. The sermon closes with three places to sit with this week: what we are holding that needs to be entrusted, where the unity Jesus prayed for is being tested among us, and the reminder that we are already living in the continuation of the new creation. The name has not changed. The prayer has not stopped. He is still praying it for us at the right hand of the Father.