The Four Degrees of Love

Proper 23, Year C
 
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7           or         2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15
Psalm 66:1-12                 or         Psalm 111
2 Timothy 2:8-15                                    
Luke 17:11-19   
 
About 1,000 years ago, St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, wrote about what he called the four degrees of love.  These degrees of love, when placed in order, suggest a gradual development of love within a person, much like the physical or intellectual development of a person from birth through old age.
 
St. Bernard's degrees of love not only help us to explain the behavior of the lepers in Luke 17, but they can also give us an idea of where we're at, and what other possibilities there are for spiritual growth.
 
Most people begin life just trying to survive.  Some people struggle for the basics of food, clothing, shelter, and security most of their lives, through no fault of their own.  They develop a survival mentality that carries over into their relationships which never has the chance to grow into something more beautiful.  People in this first degree of love, according to St. Bernard, usually love themselves for their own sake.
 
Perhaps the nine lepers who didn't return to give thanks to God were at this basic level of love.  They were healed, and possibly attributed this healing to their good fortune, without the slightest thought of gratitude to God or anyone else.
 
Perhaps a slightly more spiritually mature approach was the one taken by the lone leper who returned to Jesus to praise God "with a loud voice."  This reflects what St. Bernard would call the second degree of love, where a person loves God, but still for his or her own sake.  The person realizes where his or her help originated, and as the psalmist declares, "I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth." (Psalm 121:1-2)  God is loved as a provider of help and comfort.
 
If this happens enough, St. Bernard suggests, then the person may actually begin to understand the nature of God's love, exclaiming as did the psalmist, "O taste and see that the Lord is Good..." (Psalm 34:8)  At this point the person actually begins to love God for God's sake.  This is the third degree of love.  As in loving other people for their sake, we wish the best for them, we try to help them, we promote them because of who they are, not because of who we are, and sometimes it may cost us something to do so.
 
St. Paul reaches (and often goes beyond) this point.  We see an example of this when he writes to Timothy, "I endure everything for the sake of the elect..."  He is willing to endure hardships to promote his belief in Christ, "even to the point of being chained like a criminal."  he loves because he is loved.
 
At some point, says St. Bernard, a person may reach the fourth degree of love.  It may not happen in this lifetime, but eventually the person will be made complete in this love, either in this life or the next.  And what is this state of love?  It's when things come full circle, and people learn to love themselves for the sake of God!  It's at that point that a person understands that they are actually a temple of God, that God abides within them, and they abide in God. 
 
As Jesus taught us, "the kingdom of God is within you."  We pray daily through the words of the Lord's Prayer: "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."  This is accomplished by us becoming like God, and living as though God were working through us. Saint Teresa of Avila said it well when she wrote, “Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion is to look out to the world. Yours are the feet with which Christ is to go about doing good.”
 
This is the fourth degree of love.  Realizing that we are all one family, all brothers and sisters, under One God, our Parent.  We learn, because of this interconnectedness, that what affects one of us, affects all of us to some degree.  As St. Paul writes in I Corinthians 12, "If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it." 
 
Ten lepers were healed, but only one of them was on the path to being made "well."  Jesus recognized the difference between being healed (physically), and being well (spiritually).  The one leper was now on the path through the degrees of love, on the path to being human, on the path to becoming whole, to becoming an instrument of God here on earth. 
 
We approach this wholeness, this humanness, when we come to learn about who we really are as individuals, what unique gifts we have been given – regardless of how small or large we think they are – and how to use them in the place where we have been planted.  If each person does this, then the individual people become the whole united family.
 

She Did What She Could

Proper 22, Year C
 
Lamentations 1:1-6; 3:19-26      or         Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4
Psalm 137           or         Psalm 37:1-9
2 Timothy 1:1-14                                              
Luke 17:5-10     
 

At one point when Jesus had been teaching his disciples, they requested, “Increase our faith!” It appears that this request pleased Jesus, because he affirmed how powerful faith could be: “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”
 
But what, exactly, is faith?  Some people would say that faith is essentially belief; others might say that faith is when the soul has trust in the unseen future – when belief and confidence far outweigh the fear and uncertainty of the mind.  At any rate, faith comes with a growth in spiritual maturity.
 
So what follows in this Gospel text must then be viewed with eye toward spiritual growth.  And if God is indeed love, then this spiritual growth would therefore be based in love, and nothing else. So, understanding the passage in Luke 17, like all scriptural understanding, must be based in love.
 
Jesus continues with an example of what this love would look like between a master and his servant, "Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table?' "  Jesus crosses the barriers of social and economic class, putting everyone at his table.  We should do this!
 
Then he describes what we (generally speaking) would normally do based on social norms: "Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'?"  We may prefer to maintain the divide in social and economic class – but Jesus would prefer that we treat each person as an equal, as a brother or sister in the Lord.
 
Next, in verse 9, comes an admonishment: "Do you thank the servant for doing what was commanded?  I think you don't."  But, of course, you should, is the implication. 
 
But this class abuse doesn't stop when dealing with other people.  We also do this to ourselves, as well: "So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless servants; we have done only what we ought to have done!' "
 
To grow spiritually, to increase our faith, we must put ourselves in the proper frame of mind.  Jesus was not wanting to add burdens to us, making us think that no matter what we do with our lives, it is never enough.  This is a guilt trip that burdens our soul, interferes with our love, and inhibits spiritual understanding. 
 
Remember what Jesus said about burdens: "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30)
 
And remember when the woman came to him at Bethany with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment?  She used it to anoint Jesus, but was criticized because she did not meet the expectations of those around her.  Jesus rebuked them, saying, "She has done what she could." (Mark 14: 3-9)
 
It is not Jesus' intent to have us burn out in life and still feel like we fall short of salvation.  Our lives will be full indeed, and we will serve others best when we fill our hearts with love.  We need balance in our lives to function properly – rest, solitude, study, prayer, and nourishment must balance out our mission and service, or we'll self-destruct.  We must let Jesus decide that we've "done what we could," and not base our lives on the standards of society, peers or our own inner illusions.
 
We invite the servant to our tables, and we let God judge our day.
 
Faith is knowing that the present moment is the womb of the future.  If we fill each and every moment with our best effort at God's love, then the future will indeed be the best that it can be. Once again we can leave the past to God's mercy, and the future to His Providence.
 

The Folly of Religious Hostility

Recently a small bakery in Gresham, Oregon went out of business because they were being harassed by "mobs of gay people." The owner of the bakery, Aaron Klein, reported that, "The LGBT attacks are the reason we are shutting down the shop.  They have killed our business through mob attacks."

What started all this?  Apparently last January the bakery refused to bake a wedding cake for a lesbian couple because by doing so Klein's religious beliefs would be compromised.  "As a man of faith, I am in good spirits," Klein said. "I'm happy to be serving the Lord and standing up for what's right."  He cited the first amendment as his basis for free speech and expression.

Just to set the record straight (no pun intended), I've been happily married to a member of the opposite sex for forty-four years, and am a practicing Christian.  And I don't have any problem with two people who love each other and who want to live together, regardless of their gender.  We could use more love in today's world.  But apparently my brand of Christianity uses a different flour when it comes to baking cakes. 

The attack on the bakery was considered to be an attack on Christianity.  " Hopefully, the church will wake up and understand that we are under attack right now,” Klein warned.

I agree.  What happened at this bakery was indeed an attack on Christianity – but not the way Klein thinks.

I searched the teachings of Jesus as found in the Gospels, the core of Christianity.  I read every word, in fact, and couldn't come up with anything about how it's OK to treat gays and lesbians in a poor manner (or anybody else for that matter). 

I did find, however, numerous references to loving one's neighbor, loving one's enemies, and doing good to those who hurt you. That's because what you do to someone else, you actually are doing to yourself, as well.  I found that Jesus taught us to offer reverence and respect for all people, since we are all supposed to be children of the One Father.  This is a radical unity which is unfamiliar in our country that idolizes rugged individualism.

I also found that Jesus preached against unbridled capitalism, such as when 1% of the population makes 20% of the income, and the gap between the rich and poor continues to widen.  He preached against arrogance, and social class differences; he preached against people not having enough to live on – and about not getting paid a living wage.  He preached against cheating, sexism, racism, and warned those in power to serve the people honestly and with integrity. 

If the Kleins of this world want to be hostile, why not refuse to bake cakes for the greedy rich, the corrupt politicians, and the corporate executives who are more concerned with stock values than what they put in our food?

Seems like he's not baking cakes for the wrong people.

Apparently anyone who wears the mask of religious hostility has no interest in sitting down to discuss differences and try to understand and learn from each other.  We would rather try to antagonize the opponent into submission.  Don't we realize that people aren't going to be positively influenced when they're being antagonized at the same time?

But this goes for the mobs of gay people that worked to destroy this small bakery, too.  They also acted out of righteous indignation, forgetting the core principles of love taught by Jesus. 

We are all flawed to some degree, but we were made that way on purpose.  All the dents, missing virtues, and shortcomings in each of us are to be filled in by God's presence and love.  That's the way to make us whole; that's the way we learn to be real human beings, and learn how to live together. 

And about that first amendment right of free speech – it doesn't apply to Christians.  In true Christianity total freedom of speech or expression does not exist.  Christians are held to a higher standard than that.  They try to shape every thought, word and deed to promote only good and unity, not hate and division.  They try to treat others with reverence, respect, and dignity (according to their Baptismal vows), and they try to see other points of view.  

If we insist on following God's laws instead of man's laws, that's fine – but let's be sure of what they are, first.  Who knows, maybe we'll even learn how to bake cakes for people who love each other.

(Note: This article was also published today in the Appleton Post-Crescent)

On Serving God through Wealth

Proper 20, Year C
 
Jeremiah 8:18-9:1                       or         Amos 8:4-7
Psalm 79:1-9                   or         Psalm 113
1 Timothy 2:1-7                                     
Luke 16:1-13
 
 
On Serving God through Wealth
 
There seems to be some disagreement among commentators, or at least uncertainty, surrounding the Gospel lesson for this Sunday.  I think it's OK to have some uncertainty, as this leads to good discussion and perhaps some new insights into this living scripture. 
 
Jesus tells a story about a rich man and the rich man's money manager, who has been accused of mismanagement.  Out of concern for his future, the manager plans to make friends with those who owe money to the rich man, so he gives them a break on their debt.  In this way, if the manager loses his job, he may be able to count on some of those debtors for support.
 
When I compare translations of this lesson, and consider that even the translators may have been a bit confused about this story, I end up with this as a plausible explanation:
 
The rich man is indeed a symbol of God – for who can be richer in what is valued most?  And the money manager is, well, you and me and everyone else.  We are managing some amount of God's riches, whoever we are, and whether it be money, or shaping the lives of our children, or in helping a friend or neighbor. 
 
We note from the reading that charges were brought against the money manager – it doesn't say that the charges were valid or proven, it just says that the money manager was being accused of mismanagement.  And who is the complainant?  Could it be that ol' Accuser himself, the devil?  He would like to get everyone in trouble.  Perhaps it was someone acting on his behalf.
 
God, the rich man, is telling the manager that his time is up, and soon he can no longer be a manager.  God is asking for an accounting of this person's business; his life.  Perhaps the manager is being called home to God, and must now provide a record of how he lived. 
 
The manager knows his time is running out, that his "position is being taken away."  So, with the knowledge that his life is coming to an end, he realizes that he must as much good as he can before the end comes.  Under his authority as money manager, he goes out and begins to forgive the debtors of some of their debt.  It's an act of kindness that not only relieves the debtors of some of their monetary burden, but also, he hopes, paves the way for God to forgive him.
 
The rich man, when he learned of this, wasn't mad that he wouldn't be collecting all that was owed to him, but instead commended the accused manager for his shrewdness.  (Some translations read "dishonest manager," but we have to remember that he wasn't convicted, only accused.)  The rich man was pleased that there was some forgiveness happening; he considered forgiveness to be more valuable than collecting his due. 
 
Jesus reinforced the story by adding, "Make friends of those oppressed by unfair financial burdens, so that when this life is over, they may be able to help you in the next."  His point was that the rich can help the poor in this age, and then the poor can help the rich in the age to come.   
 
Jesus went on to explain that the action of the money manager shouldn't be done out of fear of God, but out of the love for God's creation and all His children.  He warned us that we cannot serve both the love of God and the love of money – these are incompatible.  We will "either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other."
 
Jesus often spoke out against financial oppression; the use of power and influence to gain more wealth by oppressing others.  Amos 8, one of the alternative readings for this day, describes this very well: "Hear this, you that trample on the needy, bringing to ruin the poor of the land, and say 'we will overcharge for the sale, and practice deceit with false balances, buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals...'  Surely, says the Lord, I will never forget any of their deeds."
 
Remember, however, there is nothing wrong with wealth.  It can be a good thing if acquired properly, and used wisely.  Wealth can be the impetus for positive change in this world, and often is.  But it can also be abused just as easily.  It all depends on where one's heart is, because that's where one's treasure is, too.
 
Paul sums it up well in his letter to Timothy when he writes, "God our Savior desires everyone to awaken to his truth."  It is truth of love and wholeness, not of threat or retribution. It is a truth of healing and unity, not of division and spite.
 

Growing in God

Proper 19, Year C
 
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28 or         Exodus 32:7-14
Psalm 14                         or         Psalm 51:1-10
1 Timothy 1:12-17                                             
Luke 15:1-10
 

I grew up in a house that was only a few hundred feet from Highway 59, a busy road that connected Milwaukee with Waukesha.  As I look back on those early years, I realize what a challenging job my mother had trying to keep watch over four young sons who constantly tested their boundaries, undoubtedly often making the neighbors wish that they, or we, lived somewhere else, far away.
 
To keep us as safe as she could, mother had a rule about Highway 59: "Don't cross that road until you're 15 years old!  Don't even go near it!"  She said this with the authority of Moses coming down from Mt. Sinai carrying the Word of God, and backed it up with the fear of Grandma Hilma. If we boys got out of line, our mother would skip past the power of the county sheriff and the power of God, and call directly on Grandma.
 
I don't have many memories of Grandma Hilma, but I do remember that she was someone to fear.  If we got too close to Highway 59 (or committed some other heinous offense), it would trigger an appearance by Grandma at our front door that would startle the devil.
 
The four of us lads all made it into adulthood with few scars, and we kept all our fingers and toes, and we never did "poke our eyes out with that stick."  The strict rules, and harsh consequences for violating them, were expertly administered out of love for us immature, but fast-growing boys.
 
There had to be rules, and there had to be a force behind them, or we might not have made it past puberty.  The rules aptly fit the situation.  It didn't always seem that it was loving to us at the time, but it was indeed.  As we grew older, the rules changed, and the expression of love changed with it.  Eventually the rules faded away, and were replaced by adult expectations of mutual love and respect.
 
The story of God's love for mankind follows a similar pattern.  Early on, in Old Testament times, strict rules were given to an emerging nation so that they, too, didn't cross the forbidden highway of life until they were mature enough.  The patriarchs and prophets put the fear of God into the people's young hearts, something that they might best understand at that point in their journey to human wholeness.
 
Over time, hundreds of years actually, the fear of God was gradually replaced with a deeper understanding of His love for us – just as I eventually realized that the occasional harshness of my mother and grandmother was based on love.  The tender, loving and sensitive moments far outnumbered the less comfortable times.
 
At the appropriate time in history, God Himself came to us in the person of Jesus.  This loving parent wanted to be with us to teach us, to heal us, and to demonstrate how this love between us all should work.  He came at a time when his words and life story could be recorded and shared with others, and passed down through all time.  His earthly life and spiritual ascension also opened our hearts, even today, for His words about love through His advocate and teacher, the Holy Spirit.
 
The readings for this Sunday actually give us some deeper insight into what His love is really like.  We turn first to the Gospel reading in Luke 15, where the action taken by the shepherd defies economic and mathematical sense.  Who would chase after one lost sheep while leaving the other 99?  Doesn't it make more sense to cut your losses and stay with the 99?  Aren't we taught that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?
 
Not so with God.  The math of God is 1 = 99.   Or 1 = 1,000,000 for that matter.  Each and every person has an equal worth to Him.  Any one person is important enough to Him that He will continue to pursue that person to bring him or her back into the flock.  No hesitation, no weighing the costs.
 
Even Paul, in writing to Timothy, states that he (Paul) received mercy because he had acted ignorantly in unbelief.  He was a blasphemer, a persecutor of the early Christians, and a man of violence.  But passing judgment is not as clear cut as we may think it is in our world of justice today.  God's love and mercy considers the context of a situation, not just the situation itself.  His judgment considers the background of a person, the circumstances surrounding the behavior, and the extent of remorse.  It is a far more complex decision than what we usually care to deal with.
 
Psalm 51 has sometimes been called the Psalm of Final Judgment.  It may actually be a description of what we refer to as the Day of Judgment.  The psalmist asks for mercy, according to God's steadfast love: "According to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions."  He begs to be washed thoroughly, and cleansed from his sin. 
 
On that day, the full realizations of his life become openly known to him – he realizes how both his good actions and his bad actions have impacted others in deep ways.  He understands the joy and the pain that came from these. "You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart," he asks.  "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me."
 
Someday, perhaps, we will even look to the Day of Judgment as a good thing, as we grow in the understanding of God's love.  We will come to realize that this Day will not be one of punishment and retribution, but one of renewal, reconciliation, and revival for every soul.  It may actually be the beginning of a new life of love and service to God, one that goes on forever in a mutual understanding of what love is really all about.
 
The core of this love is best described by Paul in Romans 8: "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

The Total Disciple

Jeremiah 18:1-11              or         Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18        or         Psalm 1
Philemon 1-21                                         
Luke 14:25-33
 

In Luke 14 Jesus presents the large crowd following him with a collage of somewhat challenging parables and conditions for those interested in following him.  After hearing these, it would not be surprising that the large crowd thinned out a little – maybe a lot.
 
Did Jesus really tell us to hate our father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even life itself?  Do we really have to carry the cross like he did?  Does this mean we have to be crucified?  Do we really have to fight in a battle?  Are we going to be fighting armies when the odds are 2-to-1 against us?  Must we give up all our possessions?
 
Jesus' words in Luke 14 may have been the inspiration of the all-familiar hymn:
 
Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
          with the cross of Jesus going on before.
          Christ, the royal Master, leads against the foe;
            forward into battle see his banners go!
 
Whoa!  Whatever happened to "Come unto me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."?  (Matthew 11:28)

We're already a war-weary nation.  And our personal lives are filled with job struggles, family struggles, health issues, money problems, and a plethora of other worries.  Who needs more trouble?  The cost to be a disciple of Christ may be too high; the standards may be too demanding. 
 
Maybe, just maybe, Jesus was talking about something else, and we need to rethink this.
 
This section of Luke has occasionally been labeled "the Cost of Discipleship."  Actually, the title should be something like, "the Way to Become Totally Human."
 
The main purpose for being a "Christian soldier" is to wage war against our own false self – all the illusions, prejudices, shame, hatred, anger, arrogance, anxiety, false attachments and addictions are the real enemies of life.  For us to become who God made each of us to be, for us to serve Him in the place that we've been put in life, all these false things must die.  We must bring harmony to our spiritual, emotional and psychological parts.
 
Jesus was giving us some guidelines to help us look inward, to help us straighten out our inner self, so that we can become truly human on the outside.  And when this happens, we serve Him in all matters of life, large and small, in our own unique way, using the personal gifts and talents that He gave to each of us.
 
Jesus did not say to hate father and mother. (Good heavens! There's a commandment that we should honor our father and mother!)  The word hate is a mistranslation of the original Aramaic word which means "love less."  Jesus was simply saying that it's important in life to keep things in perspective.  He was trying to point out that we must love him more than our father and mother...  A relationship with Jesus is the most important relationship we can have in this life.  The love we have for him then becomes the basis of the relationship with have with anyone else: father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, and even life itself. We soon begin to see the image of Jesus in other people, realizing that they, too, are children of God.
 
We must "carry the cross."  What does this mean?  The cross has become a symbol of Jesus' death and resurrection to a new life – that of Christ.  We, too, need to go through this – our old self must die so that our true self can live.  It's not always easy, and can sometimes be painful.  I know I'm still working on it.  But we can't be truly human the way God wanted us to be, until we let some things go.
 
The tower parable and the warring kings parable remind us to proceed with caution and with the appropriate help.  Becoming truly human is a journey best done as a team.  We need to take an honest, personal inventory of where we're at right now, and then determine the best course of personal transformation.  But we can't do this alone.  Many of us will do this with the help of counselors, therapists, physicians, psychologists, pastors, friends, and pets.  We'll be using the tools of prayer, meditation, journaling, talking, listening, walking, sleeping, and proper diets.  It may take time – lots of time, but that's OK.  We will learn to seek peace with ourselves instead of waging war.
 
And don't forget to give up all your possessions!  Really?  And end up standing naked on the street corner?  I don't think so. 
 
Jesus knows that attachment to things greatly interferes with personal, spiritual growth.  If the only way to get rid of the attachment to the thing is to get rid of the thing, then so be it.  Again, what he is trying to do is to keep things in perspective. Material goods are gifts to us to use in an appropriate manner.  But they are just things, and will all corrode, rot, wear out, get dusty, and fall apart some day (which includes our own bodies).
 
Not so with your soul.  Not so with personal relationships.  Not so with God.  These things are eternal, and will continue to grow in God's love forever.  We use material things to help each other become fully human, to make sure as physical beings we all have sufficient food, clothing and shelter; but we also share our creative output – our stories, pictures, gardens, sculptures, music, and ideas – things that also make us fully human.
 
The more we find our true selves, and the more we become who God made us to be, then the more we positively impact this world as a Christian soldier.  We win huge battles for God when we can lend a helping hand to someone near us, in moment by moment personal interactions, as we go through our day.  To glorify God is to become who He made us to be – a unique, loving, interdependent person that reflects the love of God in all the details of each moment of life.

In the Presence of a Noble

Proper 17, Year C
 
Jeremiah 2:4-13               or         Sirach 10:12-18 and Proverbs 25:6-7
Psalm 81:1,10-16            or         Psalm 112
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16                                      
Luke 14:1, 7-14
 

In Luke 14 Jesus elaborated on Proverbs 25:6-7, which reads, "Do not put yourself forward in the king's presence or stand in the place of the great; for it is better to be told, 'Come up here,' than to be put lower in the presence of a noble."  For Jesus warned, "All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
 
Normally, I think I'm not in danger of this, since I would rarely, if ever, be in the presence of a king, or a noble (although I have frequented Barnes and Noble on occasion).
 
But how about all the strangers in a store or on the street – the ones not dressed in royal purple, but rather in attire that would not be noticed?  They are not buying anything in particular that would suggest a higher status in society; not saying anything that would demonstrate an advanced education or worldly throne; not followed by an entourage to serve their slightest whim.
 
And yet, might they not have endured some hardship far greater than what I could have ever survived?  How do I know that they have not felt the kiss of God because they can more deeply see the heavenly craftsmanship in the blended colors of a flower petal?  How do I know that they may have cradled the head and held the hand of a dying loved one, as they heard the last breath passing from a life?  What troubles have they endured with great patience and resiliency that I will never see? 

What losses have they suffered that I may never have to experience?  With what loneliness have they been burdened that has remained absent in my life?
 
Are these people not the true kings and nobles of this world?  And who wouldn't be included in this royal cadre?
 
If they all are kings and nobles in God's eyes, then they all deserve the reverence and respect in each and every moment I encounter them; regardless of how they might have treated me, regardless of how they look, regardless of who they think they are, or regardless of who they really are.
 
Today you will walk among kings and nobles.  Where will you seat yourself?