There was a Kingdom waiting for its King. A city more beautiful than any city ever built, arrayed on the outside with the purest of decorations, filled on the inside with what seemed like the greatest of citizens. To the passer by it looked to be perfect. Its doors were open to all, and any man or woman that wished to enter and become a citizen only need knock. But on the inside it was full of divisions. For there was an unspoken law of that city, that those who dwelled inside should daily go outside its gates and bring in all those who were hungry and desolate, that they may share the riches of their kingdom with those in need. There were some of its citizens who never left the city. Afraid they would get dirty, they instead sat within its walls, daily consuming its spoils, walking its streets with their heads held high, showing off their clean garments for all to see. There were others who stepped just outside the city gates, inviting in all those who passed by. Some did it out of true genuine love for their city and their King, others did it out of a sense of duty for their citizenship. But there was one other group that lived within the city, travelers who spent most of their lives venturing out far beyond its walls, treading through swamp and fire, across mountains and desert, to seek out those who had never seen or heard of the splendor of their kingdom. Every few weeks they would return to the city with a sick and broken person in their arms. Their feet covered with mud from the swamp, their hands blackened and burnt from the fire, their clothes ripped apart from the mountains and their lips covered with the sand of the desert. Those greeting at the gates would meet them with hesitation, keeping their distance yet still welcoming them openly. But those who lived comfortably inside, whose garments were clean and untorn, would stare in disgust, saying amongst themselves, How could these dirty men come in here looking like that? Tracking their muddy footprints through our beautiful city? But the venturing citizens knew that no one inside could ever fully understand the difficulty of treading the swamp, that they would never know the sting of the fire, the pain of the mountains or the depletion of the desert. Each time they returned they would call out to their brothers within the city, begging for help, for one person to share their journey, to walk with them, to help them carry the desolate through the wastelands and back into the kingdom… Yet each time their calls were returned with silence. So the travelers washed their feet, mended their garments, regained their strength and went back out across the wilderness to seek out those who have never known the way to that city. Then one day when they least expected it the King returned. The citizens standing outside the gate met Him first with tears in their eyes and love in their hearts. They dusted off their hands, and He greeted them each with a kiss as He entered through the gates of His beloved city. Those living inside saw Him and proclaimed out loud, Oh King you have returned! Look how clean we have kept your city! Free from the filth and disease of the outside! He greeted them each with a gentle embrace. Then just as the King began to take His place upon the throne, those who traveled the wastelands returned. Their hands blackened, garments torn and feet covered with mud. Those at the gate stopped them, The King has returned! they said. You must quickly clean yourselves up before you enter the city! Dont let Him see you like this! But the travelers replied, We have waited our entire lives to see our King face to face, we will meet Him as we are. As they passed through the gates, the city went silent, for no one knew what the Kings response to their appearance would be. Tired and broken they made their way up before His throne, a trail of mud and filth covering the floor behind them. When the King saw them He stood up, took off His crown, then with love in His face knelt down before each of them and began to wash their feet. The crowd stood frozen in confusion, stunned as they watched their King wash the garments and mend the wounds of the dirty travelers. When they were clean, the King rose again to His throne, and one of the citizens whispered, Why would the King Himself wash the filth off these men? Clean their garments and mend their wounds? For they are dirty. Theyve spent their whole lives outside the gates, treading swamps and deserts. Then the Kings voice swept through every corner of the city, a voice like none had ever heard before, as loud as thunder and gentle as the breeze... Who has done the greater service for my Kingdom? He asked. Him who lived inside my walls enjoying my spoils, never reaching outside in fear he may get dirty? It is I who make clean. Or him who never ventured beyond my gates in fear he may lose his way or lose his life? It is I who give life and I who direct your paths. Or is it him who gave up all the spoils and safety of my kingdom, risked life and name treading mud and filth, was judged, betrayed and outcasted by his brothers, venturing out into the darkest places of the earth to find that one lost soul who was most in need of my Kingdom? I tell you today, when one soul enters through my gates all who love me will rejoice. You call me King, and you say well, for so I am. If I then, your King, have washed the feet of the dirtiest of you, so also should you do for each other. If I have forgiven, sustained, upheld and loved the least of you, so also should you do for each other. For him who has left father, mother, sister or brother to seek out one soul in need will receive a hundred times as much when I return. Him who thinks himself greatest in My Kingdom will be called the least, and him who risks all for the sake of My Kingdom will be called greatest.
Posted on: Sun, 12 Oct 2014 23:10:02 +0000
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