Sunday, November 20, 2016

Sermon: What happens when Christ is our ruler (Nov. 20, 2016)

Christ the King Sunday
November 20, 2016
Jeremiah 23:1-6; Psalm 46
Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
            In our most recent joint Bible study, last week, we looked at some of the differences between the four Gospels in the telling of the passion story, the story of Jesus’ death. Some differences are subtle, some not so subtle, and many of them are essential in understanding the picture of Jesus that any given Gospel writer is trying to paint. In our conversation, I lifted up one moment that, in all the passion narratives, stands out as my favorite, and it is unique to Luke’s Gospel: it is the moment we heard today, when Jesus hangs on the cross, having been beaten, flogged, and mocked, and now forgives those who persecute him, and tells the criminal beside him, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” I find this exchange absolutely stunning, as flummoxing as it is comforting. For Jesus to offer forgiveness and salvation in this context – I think incredulously, “What are you doing, Jesus??” and then in amazement, “Who am I, that my God would do this also for me?” As I said, I find it
stunning.
            When I told our Bible study this, I was not yet aware that this text was the appointed one for Christ the King Sunday this year. Christ the King, or sometimes called, “Reign of Christ,” is a day in the church year when we celebrate that Christ is our ruler, and is ever working to bring about God’s kingdom here on earth (that is, working toward this world being a place in which, as we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, God’s will is done “on earth as in heaven”). All of today’s texts speak to some aspect of who Christ is as our king. In Jeremiah, he is a shepherd, gathering us together. Christ as King will execute justice and righteousness. In the Psalm, God is our refuge and strength and a very present help in time of danger. Colossians focuses on Christ’s “strength” and “glorious power,” which he shares with us. This Christ the king is one who rescues, holds together, and brings peace and reconciliation through the cross.
            These are all good descriptions of what I would expect from a king, and indeed what first century Jews expected of a king: someone mighty, who saves, and leads, and protects, and inspires, and brings peace to a hurting people! But then we get to Luke’s description of the kingly Christ, and we are stopped in our tracks. This is not the picture of a king that first century Jews expected, nor is it the one that we would wish for or describe, left to our own devices. This so-called king, with his crown of thorns, looks weak, beaten down by the enemy, complacent. There is nothing of the “glorious power” of Colossians, nor the refuge and strength from Psalms, nor the protector from Jeremiah.
            So my two questions this week have been: first, if this is indeed our king, this man hanging on a cross, accepting abuse, forgiving his persecutors, and inviting criminals to join him in paradise – if this is our king, then what does it mean for us as followers of this king, and second, does this picture differ from what we expect of our secular rulers?
            First, what does such a king mean for that king’s followers? I mentioned at the beginning of this sermon that I find this depiction of Jesus stunning, at once upsetting and comforting. Let me explain that a little further. My experience, living in this world, is that anxiety is the cause of most if not all conflict. Whether in a couple, a family, a church, or a corporation, anxiety can be caused by any number of things: change, miscommunication, differing expectations, etc. And when anxiety enters the picture, people are more likely to react, lash out, accuse, and insult. Or, they might avoid, cutting themselves off from the issue. Or, they might play peace-maker, insisting that everyone get along. We have seen all of these responses and more in an anxious America in the past two weeks. In the face of anxiety, our natural response is to engage in fight or flight.
            Which is what makes Jesus’ response so stunning: it is completely out of our human experience. He has every reason to feel anxious and more. He’s been publicly flogged, beaten within an inch of his life, and now hung on a cross to die, while those who love him stand by and say nothing. But rather than lash out at his betrayers, or make snarky comments, or give a list of rationale as to why this is inappropriate… he forgives them. He side-steps the anxiety, and he simply forgives them, offering salvation even to criminals. That is the king that God gave to God’s broken people: not a ruler who lashes out, who wields the sword, who attacks and counter-attacks, who uses people’s faults against them, nor even one who saves himself, when he has the chance, from even greater
misery. No, the king that God gives to God’s broken and wayward people is one who willingly makes himself vulnerable, who responds to threats with peace, who forgives to the end, and who offers us the promise of salvation, even so.
            And so to return to my first question: what does this mean for us, as followers of this ruler? Once again, I am both comforted and threatened by the answer, for to be followers of this ruler means to strive for the same: to answer attacks with love, not hate or even apathy; to respond to anxiety with understanding and compassion, not sword and shield; to constantly remind each other of our dependence on God for our salvation, rather than fleeting worldly promises. It is a tall order, one that can only be met with the love, power and support of that same king who calls us to this seemingly impossible task.
            But then we move to that second question: is this what we expect also from our worldly leaders? I have really struggled with this one, because while I want to think I would seek a leader like Jesus, I also think, “This sort of kingship would never work in the real world.” It’s all well and good for Jesus to be this way, but a president? I have many times thought, half sadly, half sarcastically, that if Jesus ran for president, he wouldn’t get elected. We seek outwardly powerful people to be our leaders, just like centuries of Jews, who were asking God for a mighty ruler to fight off their oppressors and use a strong arm to save them from their enemies. Except, that “powerful” ruler they requested came as a babe in a manger, and grew up a peasant, and spent his life fraternizing not with the rich and powerful but with the marginalized, who forgave the most despised of society (including those who hurt him and accused him directly!), who lifted up and fought for the lowly, and who, in the end, brought all people to himself.
            All this, yet his “strength” and “glorious power” came from his very willingness to be vulnerable, from his willingness to forgive, from his attention to the poor and needy, the marginalized and disenfranchised. This is a power unlike what we are accustomed to seeing.
            Yet what if we did expect this from our rulers? What would such leadership look like in today’s world? If Jesus were president, for whom would he fight, with whom would he fraternize, and to whom would he reach out?
            I have been thinking more than usual this week about what my Christian call means in public life, or said another way, how to be a patriotic American who is also living out her faith in civil society. I wonder if part of it might be to ask these questions about how Christ would reign in America today, and then to hold our elected leaders accountable to that (by calling, visiting, writing letters, etc). And then to fight for those same things President Jesus would. To work in whatever way we are able to bring Christ’s reign here to earth, through our prayers and petitions, our love and compassion, our faith-full voices, our willingness to use our particular gifts and positions for helping those in need, as well as our willingness to forgive, and our invitation into Christ’s salvation.
            That is my Christ the King Sunday hope and prayer this year: that we would all seriously consider how Christ would reign in this time and place, and then do all we can to make that reign a reality – in America and in this world.  May we all seek first the kingdom of God and its righteousness, by whatever means necessary.
            Let us pray… Christ, our King, we thank you for being our ultimate ruler, for showing us what a just society, a righteous kingdom, can look like, and for empowering us to seek that kingdom. Guide us to work with you to bring that kingdom upon this earth, by the strength of your glorious power. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

No comments:

Post a Comment