From Palace to Hospital: How a Princess Became a Servant of the Poor

May I speak in the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

It sounds like a fairy tale, but it's a true story.

Once upon a time, nearly a thousand years ago,

there was a princess born in the dark forests of Europe along the river Danube,

a beautiful and beloved child of a royal family that had reigned as kings and

queens for generations.

At the age of four, she was betrothed to a prince from a neighboring kingdom,

and she went to live among their courts and grew up there learning their culture

and language and tradition.

A decade later, at 14, Princess Elizabeth married Prince Louis, who was 20.

And their marriage, amazingly, was not only a political alliance,

it was also a happy marriage, by all accounts a true love match.

A year or two after they married, a group of Franciscan friars came to town,

preaching about the ideals of their newly formed order.

They preached and told the story of Francis, who had given up his inheritance

in order to care for the poor.

And in this story princess elizabeth heard the ring of gospel truth the call of jesus,

she told her husband lewis that she wanted to begin to give away her dowry and

he agreed he had heard the call of the gospel too in their kingdom the poor

would be cared for the hungry would be fed and the sick would be healed you.

It wasn't long, of course, before their resolve was challenged.

Louis left to fight in a war, and in his absence, floods and famine and plague ravaged their kingdom.

So Elizabeth sold her jewels and established a hospital for the sick.

She opened the royal granaries to feed the hungry.

She gave money away throughout the kingdom and even gave state ornaments and

her own robes to the poor.

While he was traveling toward the war, Lewis grew ill and died,

and the rule of the kingdom transferred to his brother.

His brother did not approve of Elizabeth's methods, and he had her removed from

power and from the palace.

But she devoted the rest of her life to God as a Franciscan lay associate. She worked as a nurse.

She sewed garments for the poor. She even took up fishing so she could catch fish and feed the poor.

We remember Princess Elizabeth every year on November 19th, just a handful of

days before we usually celebrate Christ the King Sunday,

which is today, the end of our liturgical year, a day when our eyes are directed

toward a king and a kingdom that are unlike most we've known on earth.

Most of the kings we've known on earth have been despots and dictators,

have been happy to use their power to take what they want without apology or care for the poor,

have been happy to send their people into war while they stay safely ensconced in their palaces.

But Elizabeth showed us a royal reign in the vein of Christ the King,

a ruler who sacrifices her own pleasure and comfort and power for those she serves.

Elizabeth shows us a reign in the vein of the one we call the Queen of Heaven,

Mary, the mother of Jesus,

who accepted her calling to bear a son and the subsequent suffering in song,

singing that God would scatter the proud and cast down the mighty from their

thrones, that God would lift up the lowly and fill the hungry and come to help

us, all of us who wait for these promises to be fulfilled.

It's a funny song for a princess on a throne to sing, cast down the mighty from their thrones.

But Princess Elizabeth picked up the melody from Queen Mary and sang along and left her throne behind.

Elizabeth heard the song of the Queen of Heaven and saw the suffering of the

King of the Jews hanging on the cross and still forgiving those who put him there,

and understood that in god's kingdom kingship is

not about greatness but about surrendering greatness it is not about taking

but about giving it is not about separating but about recognizing our interconnectedness

recognizing as colossians says that in christ all things hold together.

You know, kings on earth had never been part of God's plan for God's people.

But, as told to us in the Old Testament, they begged for it.

After being led by God out of slavery in Egypt and through a wilderness,

and being given instructions on how to live together as a community where all people could flourish,

God's people decided that they didn't actually want to be a special chosen people

who were led by an invisible God.

They looked at the nations around them and said, We should be like them. We want a king.

God warned them. You can have a king, God says, but first know this.

This is what a king will do.

He will take. He will take your sons and send them into battle.

He will take your daughters.

He will take your best fields and your vineyards and your olive trees and your

animals, and you will become his slaves.

And the people who seem to have just stuck their fingers in their ears as God

was speaking said, we want a king.

A king will fight our battles for us.

Kings were not God's plan, but God allowed it. And we learned the damage that a king can do.

God allowed it and then god

redeemed it sending us a king unlike any other turning that whole definition

inside out because our king jesus does not take he gives he gives his very life

that all things in heaven and on earth might be reconciled to god,

our king endured the violence and shame of the cross and offered forgiveness instead of retribution.

It was exactly a hundred years ago this year that a king in Italy lost his throne.

In the 1920s, as Europe was recovering from World War I, fascism was gaining ground.

The fascist party was invited to join the coalition government in Italy in 1921,

and the next year, the fascist party marched on Rome.

The king caved to the marchers and made their leader, Benito Mussolini, the prime minister.

But by 1925, Mussolini decided prime minister wasn't enough.

He declared himself dictator.

The pope, who of course lived in Rome, had a front-row seat to all of this.

He watched as Mussolini drew more and more power to himself.

And in 1925, 100 years ago, the Pope decreed a new annual holiday,

the Feast of Christ the King.

That's right, what we're celebrating today is not an ancient part of our liturgical

calendar. It's pretty new.

Now, no doubt the Pope had a number of motivations in establishing this celebration,

but at least in part it was, and in tradition it has certainly become, a warning.

A caution against giving our faith or fealty to any human leaders and an invitation

an invitation to remember the kind of kingdom to which we belong.

Every now and then, even here, we get a glimmer of that kingdom that Jesus initiated, that is on the way.

It sounds like a fairy tale, but it's a true story.

In this kingdom, princesses share their gowns with peasants,

and every sick person receives care.

And our banquets are not only for the rich, but for all who are hungry.

This is the kingdom where Christ is king.

So let us reject any other, and let us look for it and nurture it wherever we

find it springing up among us.

The homily was offered by the Rev. Amy Peterson. Musical contributions were

performed by Dr. Kevin Seal.

Introduction and closing reflections were shared by the Rev. Amy Peterson.

Sermon audio was prepared by Nanette Popa. Production was guided by Karen Marie Frederiksen.