Christ the King, Last Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Nov 20 2022

(Photo credit - Billie Jo Wicks)

Christ the King, Last Sunday after Pentecost Yr C Nov 20 2022

Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 46, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

 

Christ the King Sunday, for me the ultimate paradox. Christ the King, whose throne is the cross. What we see is not what we get. This particular paradox is difficult for me. Kingship as we have learned throughout history has been much more about tyranny than about justice and mercy and charity.

 

You may have gathered that some of my favorite reading material is science fiction and fantasy, with some historical fiction thrown in. There are two books in which I have learned most about the kingship of the cross. In The Horse and His Boy, book 5 in the Chronicles of Narnia series, by C.S. Lewis, King Lune says to his son Prince Cor, “For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there's hunger in the land to laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”

 

And the other book is a trilogy of stories called collectively The Song of Albion, by Stephen R Lawhead. This is an epic story about a young man who enters into an alternate world, a world of kings and queens, of quests and wars, an alternate world that is quite related to our own world, what happens in one affects the other. Our main character enters this alternate world through one of the thin places of Celtic mythology. Upon entering, he begins to live a new life with new hopes and dreams. Eventually it becomes clear that he is to be the king of this land. He becomes a king who understands his kingship as constituted by the people, he is only king as much as they are his people. He leads his army into the battles, he gives up his coat, his food, for those of his land that need it. Eventually he comes to the time when he must ultimately sacrifice his life for his people, it brings him great sadness, but he does so out of mercy and compassion.

 

Christ the King, whose throne is the cross. Jesus, the shepherd through whom we know God. Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in Jesus all things in heaven and on earth were created. In Jesus all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Jesus God was pleased to reconcile all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the cross.

 

One of the criminals who was hanged there with Jesus said to him “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” And it is as if Jesus thought to himself, “I am King of the Jews, but I can’t save myself because I am saving you.” Here is the paradox. This is kingship as presented by God through Jesus. It runs absolutely counter to Messiah as it had been conceived in those times, Messiah as those who waited were prepared for.

 

Jesus, born in a barn, proclaimed as a King, as Mary’s song proclaims, he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts, he has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly, he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

 

We use Kingly language, like sovereign Lord; we use Kingly images, like Christ who sits on a throne, and yet we also tell the story of the baby born in a stable, to parents who had nothing, who grew to be a man who was thrown out of the temple and whose throne is a cross.

 

Jesus announced the kingdom of God was drawing near. But Jesus upended and undermined the whole concept of kingship. The world’s kingdoms are about power and prestige; Jesus is about mercy and compassion. The rulers of this world may be about coercion and violence; Jesus’ life was characterized by peace and reconciliation.

 

I think this paradox of Jesus as King, and Jesus as the one who eats with tax collectors and women, whose closest friends were of bunch of smelly fisherpeople, is the most difficult image for me to reconcile. I am much more comfortable with the Jesus who wears Birkenstocks and jeans and a tee shirt, than Jesus who wears a crown and a robe. Kings spent all of their time building up riches of gold, silver, and jewels, but Jesus owned nothing at all. Kings surround themselves with servants; Jesus chose to be a servant. But, today, we are asked to hold both images in tension, Christ the king, whose throne is a cross, and in so doing we see a fuller picture.

 

Worldly kingship implies power; power over others, authority over people. But Jesus did not exercise this sort of power and authority. Jesus’ power and authority are shared, not possessed. Jesus’ power is not over people, but with and through people. Kingdom is the inbreaking of a new order, an order that doesn’t just drive out the old order, but that reorders all relationships. The criminal hanging on the cross next to Jesus recognized this power and authority, the power and authority to love absolutely, the power and authority to forgive. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

 

Jesus, the one who comes to show us the way to God, Jesus, the one who is King of all creation, is at the very same time the one who lived life just like you and me, who loved his friends and family, who suffered and died, just like you and me. For what good is a God who sits back and watches, what good is a God who rules from afar, what good is a God that holds power over people. Jesus is the one who loves, the criminal who hangs next to him, the mother who cries below him, the friends who betray him.

 

Kingship for Jesus is giving himself totally and absolutely for the love of his people. It is this love that you and I must respond to. It is this love that is transforming love. It is this love that reconciles and redeems. It is this love that causes us to love ourselves, it is this love that causes us to love one another, it is this love that gives us hope. Jesus’ love changes us.

 

We begin our Advent journey next week. We begin our preparations for the coming of Christ into our hearts, and into our lives, for all time and all places. We begin our waiting in hope at this place of the cross, and this place of paradox, at this place where kingdom comes, and where love and forgiveness prevail. We begin at the place of remembering, Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. We begin at the place of forgiveness, today you will be with me in Paradise. We begin at the place of grace, for you are absolutely and abundantly loved. 

 

So today, as we prepare for the new year, Advent, I wonder if you could remember, relive, a moment when you knew, fully, God’s presence. A moment that caused reverence from your heart and veneration from your soul. A moment when you trusted, with all your heart, that when Jesus says, “today, you will be with me in paradise,” it’s really true—without needing to understand. Without needing to figure it out. In this season, we usher in the reality of God’s presence with us, we usher in the growing light, we usher in the holiness that is Advent. In what moment do you fully know God’s presence?

 

Thanks be to God.

22 Pentecost Proper 24 Yr B Oct 21 2018

22 Pentecost Proper 24 Yr B Oct 21 2018 Audio

Mark 10:35-45

 Teacher, we have something we want you to do for us, James and John ask Jesus. Arrange it, they say, so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory - one of us at your right, the other at your left. James and John ask Jesus for something Jesus has shown no desire to give, placing some above others. Or giving some more or better attention. But Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, isn’t like that. Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us, no matter who we are, how much money we make, the kind of house we live in or maybe we don’t even have a house.  Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what.

This misunderstanding follows the third time in Mark’s story Jesus tells the disciples the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and will be condemned to death. The trouble is that all the disciples, even though this is the third time they’ve heard Jesus say this, find this news astounding, alarming, and frightening. And equally as astounding, I think it causes James and John especially, and the others as well, to be confused about their own calling, and who Jesus is. James and John seem to think this is about seating order at a party, not life in God's kingdom. They don’t seem to remember that Jesus has just taught them about laying down their life, or about what greatness looks like, or the words about being last of all and servant of all. And so Jesus has to tell them again. Jesus says, this is hard, are you willing to accept that? Are you willing to drink the cup I will drink? Are you willing to be in this all the way to the end? Are you willing to receive my love, my gift, for your freedom? Because, Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what.

Aren’t we a lot like James and John though? If Jesus were anything like me, and thank goodness he’s not, Jesus would say to James and John, since when did you think this was about you? Since when did you think this is about your power, your prestige, your privilege? Since when did we think this was about us? It’s about Jesus’ love for us, and we are God’s beloveds, but so often we loose our way, we get frightened or confused about our calling as citizens of God’s kingdom, and we forget who Jesus is.

Jesus, I have something I want you to do for me. I want you to grant my wish for a better job, a bigger house, a wonderful spouse. I want you to get me out of this mess I'm in. I want you to make sure that with this investment I make a lot of money. With this ticket, just make sure I win the lottery. Jesus, I know you can do this for me, and if you do, I will be a better person. I will give ten percent away. I will never again use your name in vain. Just give me the power Jesus, and all will be well. Just leave it up to me Jesus, and I will judge who gets what.

I think this is a dialogue that is playing out in our world today. You’ve got to make the most money, you’ve got to have the most important job, you’ve got to, sing, dance, play better than anyone else…. so that you will be noticed, so that you’ll receive power and prestige and privilege? It’ll drive you crazy. And this race to the best plays out in our community lives as well as our personal lives. And it results in disregard for those whose lives are not filled with big houses and big jobs and big money. I think this is at the root of our political impasse as well. It is the question about who deserves to get what?

As long as we work hard and make money we deserve the big house and nice car. We deserve to have what we have, we deserve that place of pride with James and John.

But that’s not what Jesus’ love looks like. Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what. The call that James and John seem to be missing is really right there in front of them, and is really good news, whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Dwight Zscheile, in a book titled People of the Way writes, "In the household of God, no one can claim privilege of place; we are all adopted children by our baptism." Jesus asks James and John if they are willing to dive into the water with him. "The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized." Jesus’ journey in the gospel of Mark began in the waters of the Jordan, in baptism, and that journey will be to the cross and resurrection. The grace in this story is that Jesus is the one who comes and shows the way of love, Jesus shows the way of vulnerability all the way to the cross. You see, speaking and acting in terms of who deserves what, who deserves health care or housing or hospitality, who deserves eternal life, who deserves to be on Jesus’ right hand, are so beside the point. The grace in this story is that Jesus, with his very life, death, and resurrection, puts himself in our place, in your place, and in my place, and says, everyone of you is worth my love.

Jesus’ love for us, God’s beloveds, washes over all of us no matter what.

You are God’s beloved. We are baptized into Jesus' life, suffering, death, and resurrection. Taking Jesus' cup is about diving into the waters of our own baptism, waters that bring the dead to life, waters that fill an empty soul, waters that give a heart the only thing worth living, and worth dying for. We get completely wet in these holy waters. There is grace in diving in to the waters of baptism, and receiving the unconditional, undeserved, underrated love that is God’s love. When we take the cup that Jesus drinks, when we are washed with the waters of baptism, we, God’s beloveds, are called to respond to Jesus’ love, with love. We are called not to the seat of power, but to the posture of service. And our lives are made new, our lives are transformed, our lives become the wave of change. The wave of change, the wave of love, the wave of mercy, the wave of kindness. During bible study on Friday mornings, we often wonder about what God’s word calls us to, what Jesus’ love asks of us. More often than not we share stories of kindness, the kind of kindness that inspires you to pay for the groceries for the person in front of you, the kind of kindness that inspires you to pay for the order for the person behind you in the drive up at McDonalds, the kind of kindness that inspires you to deliver meals on wheels, or make breakfast at the men’s shelter, or bring cereal when the cereal shelves are empty.

You do these things without ever knowing if the person you are serving agrees with you on anything, you do these things without ever knowing if the person you are serving needs it or not, you do these things because Jesus’ love washes over all of us, no matter what. And what a wave it is. Amen.