2 Samuel 23:1-7 Psalm 132:1-13 (14-19) Revelation 1:4b-8 John 18:33-37

Ollantaytambo is an ancient Inca stone fortress near Cusco, Peru deep in the Andes Mountains.  Centuries ago, the fortress provided safe haven for Inca royalty and military leadership, looking down upon strategically designed terraces for crop production on the steep mountainside, and serving as sacred worship space.  The Inca worshiped the sun god, so the higher the elevation, the closer to their deity.  

We visited the town and climbed the Ollantaytambo fortress on our second day in Peru.  With consideration to our having lived our entire lives at or just above sea level, our daughter had planned our trip giving much thought to the necessity of adjusting to the high elevations and reduced oxygen.  Ollantaytambo is at 9,000 feet and was one of our most challenging climbs. 

Ollantaytambo was constructed over many years of its people leveraging enormous stones from miles away, across the river and up the mountain where the stones were honed and fitted together, building an altar to the sky.  The rugged irregular stone steps are not designed for easy mobility.  And I, thoughtlessly, had not taken time to study the itinerary, the rigorous expectations, or the suggestions for clothing and footwear.  

Nevertheless, I was not to be deterred.  Ugh! I would keep up with our small group of four – our daughter and her friend and our tour guide.   As we climbed into the thin air, I huffed and puffed.  Our guide graciously took my bag to lighten my load; my daughter took my water bottle so that my hands would be free to steady myself on the ascending rocks, admitting it was not easy for her either.   So, I was not alone; and together we made it to the top of Ollantaytambo where we were rewarded with amazing views and an awareness of the inconceivable strength and commitment of the Inca people so many centuries ago as they struggled to live with and into the natural environment of their homeland in the sky.

This morning, on this last Sunday of our Church year, interestingly, we turn our thoughts to Jesus as he stands alone and condemned before Pilate.  Within hours, he would suffer immeasurably; he would make his climb to the cross upon rocky paths where he would be crucified, die, and be buried.  As we place ourselves in this tense and disconsolate setting, we are incredibly aware of Jesus’ aloneness; there is no one to lighten Jesus’ load; there is no one to encourage him on his difficult journey.  No one can stand in this place but Jesus.  He stands alone, unjustly condemned.  Yet, he would make his climb and he would rise victorious over death.

Unlike I, Jesus knew well the itinerary.  “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world,” he said to Pilate.  Willingly and knowingly, Jesus stands alone before Pilate.  No one would or could stand with him; this, Jesus must do alone, and only Jesus could do what had to be done.  The load he carried was my sin and your sin – the sin of the world. 

John shares from his Revelation that Jesus Christ, “the ruler of the kings of the earth,” is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  There is nothing of us  – our burdens, our frailties, our fears, our faithlessness – that is not being carried by Jesus Christ as he stands alone before Pilate, unjustly condemned by the world.  He carries it all; we are the burden that Jesus carries – the burden that Jesus knowingly and willingly takes up for our salvation – What wondrous love is this?  The perfect love of Jesus Christ.

Next Sunday brings the beginning of our new Church year – the Season of Advent in which we prepare our hearts and minds for the celebration of the Nativity.  We take renewed joy in candles and carols amidst pink cheeked shepherd boys and mystical angels, smiling cattle and an adoring donkey.  

Yet, in anticipation of that glorious season of celebration that is upon us, it is most important that we pause on this day to contemplate the Reign of Christ, the purpose for which Christ came into the world.  Take time to focus for just these few moments on Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords.  King of kings, immeasurably greater than even the great earthly King David whose last words we have read today from the Second Book of Samuel.

In the weeks to come as we peer into the manger of the nativity scenes that will dot our landscape, take time to contemplate the words of Christ as he stands before Pilate knowingly and willingly taking our burdens upon himself.  Willingly, lovingly, and all alone Jesus affirmed his purpose, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world.”  Stand at the manger and hear these words.

For your salvation, Jesus came into the world as that tiny babe in Bethlehem.  Life’s climbs are steep and rocky, but Jesus knowingly and lovingly takes our burdens upon himself, lightens our load, and assures us that our place at the highest altar is being held for us.  The Alpha and the Omega, all that is, and was, and is to come. 

King of kings and Lord of lords – personal friend and savior to each and every one of us.  For this, Jesus came into the world – to be crucified, dead, and buried, and to rise again, victoriously from the grave.