“In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that which was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 21.25) 
The barbarity of the terrorists, the cruelty of the kidnappers, the heartlessness of the hijackers, even the desecration of the dead, make mock of the word “civilisation” that we claim for our way of life. How terrible it is that human beings should deliberately, and of set purpose, inflict so much needless sorrow and pain on their fellows! 
Have you noticed anything common to all the perpetrators of atrocities ancient and modern? We don’t have to delve far into our recent memory to find the Rwandan genocide in 1994, the mass murder of an estimated 800,000 people in the small East African nation of Rwanda, the Srebrenica massacre in 1995, described by the Secretary-General of the United Nations as “the worst crime on European soil since the Second World War”, 9/11 in New York 2001, 7/7 in London 2005, Helmand Province in Afghanistan 12th August 2011 when Lt. Daniel Clack from Woodford was killed by an lED, and whose funeral with full military honours took place at St Paul’s, Woodford Bridge on 25th August. 
These terrorists are all absolutely convinced of the righteousness of their cause and of the necessity to commit their dreadful deeds to procure its victory. These terrorists are satisfied with what they have done, secure in their self-righteousness. 
Nor is this new. Look back in history — the Nazi atrocities against the Jews, the horrors of the Inquisition, the futile waste of human life and property in Civil Wars in virtually every country in the world, but the English and American Civil Wars are probably the ones with which we most familiar, were all inflicted by men and women who believed they were serving their country, or their God, or both. It is true of every age that men did what was right in their own eyes. 
Well, we can be thankful that we have had no part in all of that. But can we be so sure? What about the quarrels in our own families? What about the cruelties we have inflicted by gossip? The tongue is a weapon no less deadly than the bomb, and has broken more human hearts. Had self- righteousness no part in any of these? 
Of course, we are kind to those who are kind to us. So are the hijackers. We love those who love us. So do the bomb planters. We can do a good turn to a neighbour. So do they. We may recognise all these examples from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and the Letter of James in the New Testament. What have any of us done in this past week for Christ’s sake, or for our fellow men and women who have no claim on us? What other law, what other rule have we followed except our own profit, desire or inclination? 
In the 1st century 12 simple men from Palestine spread the Gospel throughout the known world in one generation — without books, without radio or television or broadband, with only the slowest and most primitive means of travel. They shared what little they had with all who needed. We have heard, as they did, Christ’s command to preach the Gospel to every creature, but how little we have done about it.
We have given but meagrely to our brothers’ need and have felt quite pleased with ourselves for doing so. Has our pride, our smugness, our self- satisfaction, our lukewarm Christianity not played its part in bringing the world to its present pass? 
We hold up our hands in self-righteous horror at the manners and morals of so many of our young people — and rightly so. But where did they learn their manners and morals except from us? We gave them the world in which they grew up. We educated them. We showed them how much we valued pleasure and material things, and how lightly we esteemed our religion. We’re still doing it. We did what was right in our own eyes. They do what is right in theirs. Can we complain? 
The Book of Judges in the Old Testament is a terrible book in many ways — full of war, oppression, wickedness, idolatry and slaughter — just like our newspapers in fact. The writer of the book takes the last verse, which is my text, to sum up the reason for it all. “In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did what was right in his own eyes.” Every man’s hand was against his neighbour, every tribe the enemy of the other — because there was no king. Is that not the root of our troubles too? Throwing off our allegiance to God, we have become victims of our own passions and prejudices, captives of our own self- righteousness, our brother’s enemy and the enemy of our own peace. 
Do you know what I think is the saddest verse in the whole Bible? It comes in the story where the Jewish leaders bring before Jesus a woman caught in the act of adultery. “It says in the books of Moses,” they tell him, “that we should stone to death women like her. What do you say?” After a pause, and a bit of writing in the sand, Jesus says to them, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” And my sad verse follows immediately. “They went away, the eldest first.” 
We are not going to turn back the tide of indifference to God overnight. But think how wonderful it would be if the media started reporting, “They came back to God, the eldest first.” After a lifetime of trying out the alternatives, and with the wisdom of old age, we should finally come to the conclusion that the love of God and of our neighbour is actually the best way of all, the only one which can deliver the satisfaction and fulfilment we all long for. 
If grandparents could set the good example and encourage their children and grandchildren to publicly recognise and bear witness to the glory of God and his claims on our daily lives, how different the future might be. 
I told you my saddest verse in the Bible. My most hopeful verse, especially for grandparents, is Psalm 34.11: “Come, my children, and listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.” 
We started this sermon with the words, “In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that which was right in his own eyes.” which wasn’t even part of the Bible readings set for today the Feast of Christ the King. We heard in Ezekiel about bad or inadequate shepherds in Ancient Israel — for shepherds read kings and how God himself was going to become their Shepherd — for shepherd read King.
This actually happened when God became incarnate in Jesus. The writer to the Ephesians drew our attention to the “incomparably great power”... “which he (God) exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church.” Without using the word king you could hardly give a better description of the role! 
In today’s Gospel Jesus introduces the Parable of the Sheep and Goats with the words, “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory...” but then seamlessly continues, “Then the King will say...” 
Jesus is the human face of God. Jesus is our anointed King. Majesty and authority belong to him. He is both royal and regal. Christ is the Greek word and Messiah is the Hebrew word for “Anointed One”, as I am sure you know. But his given name is Jesus, which means “Saviour”. Pontius Pilate brought Jesus out on the balcony of his palace and said to the crowd “Behold your King.” He caused a notice to be fixed to Jesus’ cross. “This is the King of the Jews.” Today at the climax of the Christian Calendar Year we celebrate Jesus’ Kingship in our hymns and readings and renew our allegiance to Him, before we start telling the story all over again next week on Advent Sunday. Telling the story...as the old man said in Psalm 34.
 “Come, my children, and listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.”