O King

O King of the nations, so long desired, the corner-stone making Jew and Gentile one: come!  Save mankind whom you formed from clay!
 
You are king of all the earth, you who made the world and all it holds.  But, in the beginning there was no talk of kings.  There was only the Lord God and the people you had formed from clay.  Then came envy, fear, hostility, murder and revenge.  At Babel, an organized attempt to scale the heavens came to nothing when communication failed.  And they were divided.
 
You, ruler of a chosen people, sought to form one nation according to your heart, through patriarchs and prophets, liturgy and law.  Kings were not a part of your plan.  “Set a king over us,” they said, “as other nations have,” imagining a hero who would bring victory, prosperity and glory.  You knew their kings would fall, enthralled to power, possessions and prestige.   And they were divided.
 
You, shepherd of Israel, led your people under foreign powers.  Humiliation was their lot, because they had no king but Caesar.  As David’s throne stood empty, a vision formed of what a true king might be: intimate of God and servant of the people, a giver not a taker, a man of peace, not war.  But dreams of a universal reign clashed with thoughts of bloody overthrow.  And they were divided.
 
You, Jesus, son of David, came into a world divided.  At your birth the title “King of the Jews” incited fear, rivalry and murder.  Had old King Herod bestirred himself to Bethlehem, he might have seen his true king: an infant, swaddled, lying in the hay, given in weakness, poverty, lowliness and love.  By your birth, make us one.
 
You, Jesus, whose kingship is not of this world, stood before us crowned with thorns, your scepter a reed, you cloak a garment rolled in blood.  “King of the Jews!” we cried, and then: “Let him be crucified!”  Better for one man to die for the people.  By your passion and death, make us one.
 
You, Jesus, are our peace.  You broke down the dividing wall, destroyed hostility, putting it to death in your own body.  Take your clay; remold it into one unbroken vessel.  Make us completely one.
 
Have mercy on us, and come.