The Reign of Christ the King Sunday

November 24, 2019

The Reign of Christ the King Sunday

Luke 23:33-43

Does anyone here remember 1925?  Show of hands…I personally do not and I didn’t think anyone here did either.  It was 55 years prior to my birth.  But a lot of things happened in 1925:  we had not been clear of World War 1 for long at this point, and Adolf Hitler, who had been incarcerated, was released from prison and promptly held a rally proclaiming the relaunch of the Nazi party.  The Great Gatsby and An American Tragedy were both published.  Calvin Coolidge was inaugurated as the 30^th President of the United States.  John Scopes was arrested and found guilty for teaching the theory of evolution in Dayton, TN.  Something else happened in 1925 as well that you may not be as familiar with.

Today is the last day of Year C in our liturgical calendar.  Today is The Reign of Christ Sunday, or Christ the King Sunday.  When we think of the lectionary and things in the church calendar, most of us thing of medieval times and of all things, old; or, at least I do.  Christ the King Sunday came to us in 1925, not even 100 years ago, and was instituted by Pope Pius XI during a time of great unrest and anxiety in our world.  Today we celebrate this Sunday as the last Sunday of the lectionary or liturgical calendar. 

Christ the King…that’s something we affirm with our praying, our hymns, and the exposition of scripture, but I often wonder if you and I as western people actually know what we are saying and if we actually do affirm Christ as our King.  Because, we as western people, we as people who were born here in the United States, have lived here our entire lives, who were born to parents who were born here and lived here their whole lives…we are a people who live in a land that was founded on a unified principle:  NO MORE KINGS.  The people who signed the Declaration of Independence did so for that very reason and declared we would no longer be under the rule of a monarch.  So, it’s no wonder that we might be somewhat jammed up on this subject, being that we have no idea what it’s like to be ruled by a King or Queen.  So, for the rest of this sermon, for simplicity and understanding, I want to put us in the mindset of “ruler” or “politician” (although not orthodox, this is the closest to our perspective that we will attain).

When I take this personal perspective and marry it with the lectionary texts today, I want to say that I’m a little confused.  This is Christ the King Sunday and we view kings as all powerful, all ruling, and all controlling, but this morning’s text is anything but royal.  In Luke’s Gospel, we are reminded of the suffering of Christ at his gruesome death.  We are very familiar with this account.  Here we have this man who we refer to as our King, Jesus, who has been beaten near to death at this point.  He has been forced to carry his instrument of torture and death to the place his life would be taken from him, and there he has been hung between two criminals.  He had committed no crime, he had done nothing wrong, but he would pay the ultimate price.  As he hung there awaiting death, those that surrounded him mocked him.  They gambled for who would own the soon dead king’s clothes.  They ceremoniously dressed him in a purple robe, the placed a crown on his head made of thorns, and they placed a sign on his cross, displaying his identity:  The King of the Jews.  All of this, of course, being paradoxically done to psychologically break the one whom they tortured.  One of the criminals hung with him joined in their mocking, hurling sarcastic insults. 

The biggest question I had at the beginning of exploring this text was, why are we juxtaposing the Kingship of Christ with the crucifixion of Christ? 

Because Jesus rules by example.  Because Jesus shows us the way in lieu of telling us the way.  Because in the crucifixion of Christ, our preconceived notions of power are shattered. 

During his short time on earth, Jesus taught us many, many things; things that he continues to teach us through his death.  Jesus lived a life that demonstrated submitting to violence over committing violence.  He taught us forgiveness in portions that stretch our capacity.  He taught us to invite vulnerability and not exploit it.  He taught us many things that you and I don’t exactly correlate to power.  And that’s the point.

Jesus continued to undermined this preconception of power by doing something else; he interceded for those who were mocking and torturing him, and asked for forgiveness, because they knew not what they were doing.  They knew not what they were doing.  They truly had no idea.  Whether they had been swept up in the frenzy of the moment, or they truly wanted Jesus dead, he asked that this not be held against them.  He asked God to look upon them with grace. 

To bring this somewhat into the contemporary, I started thinking about the person and persons who “rule” our country…our politicians.  So, I immediately started thinking about the debates, both in recent time and previous.  Those that we look to rule us, to guide us, and to govern us, I saw nothing in their behavior that resembles the example we are given in Luke today.  Instead, what I and many of us see, is self-serving politics, self-fulfilling agendas, and the exploitation of vulnerability.  I’m not picking on a particular politician, a particular party, or a particular agenda; these are generalized statements, and these are the people we pick to rule over us.

So, then, what does it look like for us to pledge our allegiance to a king who does what Jesus does?

Then, in what is one of the very few beautiful moments in this gruesome picture of horror being played out on the stage of Jesus’ life, he received confession from one of the men who hung with him and invited him to be with him in paradise.  I think this image came at just the right time in our lives as we prepare for Thanksgiving this week.  If you’re traveling for Thanksgiving instead of everyone traveling to you, well, congratulations.  But, if you’re one who is hosting this traditional meal, there’s one thing we all worry about:  room.  Do we have enough space for everyone, do we have enough chairs for everyone (or, at least this is the worry for my very large family).  Every year something happens like clockwork, and that’s the leaf for the table comes out of the closet and a few people wrestle with pulling the table apart, which is inevitably stuck since it hasn’t been opened up since this time last year, and we put the leaf in, enabling a few more people to come to the table. 

What it looks like to pledge our allegiance to a ruler that does what Jesus does is to serve a master who always has another leaf to go in the table, a king who invites everyone to the great banquet and has a place set for every single one of us.  Thanks be to God.

Broken Hallelujahs

Luke 21L5-19

This is one of those texts that is sort of hard to explore.  Just before these words of Christ in Luke’s 21^st chapter, we encountered the widow who had given everything she had to the temple.  Last week we talked briefly about the Levirate Marriage Law and how that prevented the marginalization of widows; and now we encounter a widow who literally has nothing, and this is now juxtaposed against the lavishness of the temple.  We covered Mark’s recollection of this text about this same time last year, but unlike Mark, Luke separates the story of the widow giving literally all she has from the story of the temple.  And although I wanted to frame this story up with what preceded it, I do want to focus on what the lectionary through Luke has given us today.

So Jesus and his friends are speaking about the temple and about how truly beautiful it is; it is clad in gold, and covered in precious stones.  The temple’s builder, Herod, was known for his abilities in architecture, and he spared no expense nor opportunity for opulence when building this temple.  It could be seen for miles and was awe-inspiring to look upon.  This was the place they believed the essence or spirit of God dwelt.  They believed this was, truly, a holy space, and it was respected, revered, and protected as such.  So when the temple is mentioned, Jesus comments, but with words no one expected; Jesus foreshadows the destruction of this sacred place.  The Son of God is speaking words of destruction about a place held so highly by those with whom he is speaking.  So they respond much in the way many of you would respond if I were to say those words about this church:  “what?”

Because I hope it would strike everyone in here in such a way that it stops you in your steps and you, as you process what has been spoken, begin to ask questions, such as “when will this happen?”.  And this is the prelude into what most people focus on in this collection of verses:  the eschatological texts. 

Eschatology is a big fancy word for the study of the end of times; something that most of us are interested in, or at least curious about.  I think that comes down to most of us not liking surprises.  I’m not a big surprise person myself, which can’t come as a shock to most of you because I’m a self-acknowledging Type A Control Freak.  Surprises are outside of the realm of control, therefore outside of my comfort zone.  Now I’m not talking about birthday surprises, or Christmas surprises, or things like that…I’m talking about the “end of times, destruction of the world” type of surprises.  These are things I’d like to know about…because I’m a planner…and I’d like to have that at least penciled in on my calendar.  Anyone here feel me on that? 

Jesus continues his eschatological discourse with some hallmarks of what we have come to see as that time to come:  wars, rumors of wars, earthquakes, famine, plagues, false prophets and teachers; all sorts of really unpleasant things.  If we stop and think about it, how many times and for how long has this verse been hijacked for the convenience of the person speaking on it?  In my lifetime, I remember hearing this verse at the destruction of The Berlin Wall, The Twin Towers Tragedy, Hurricane Katrina, and The Haitian Tsunami, just to name a few.  I recently took a course on “theodicy”, which is the theology of why evil exists in the world and why God does nothing about it, and I learned that this text was thought during the black plague that this text was being fulfilled, just to mention a part of history that most of us are familiar with.  This verse has been used to sell books, movies, tickets to seminars and speeches, and all sorts of things.  Why?  Because it preys on one thing:  fear.  And rightfully so, since this text does come at us with a ring of horror in a way.  The end of time scares us because we don’t understand it, we can’t control it, and it is veiled in secrecy.  These are things that we as human beings grapple with. 

But I don’t believe that’s what Jesus was hoping would be gleaned from his words.  For that, I think we need to look a little deeper.  While this text does deal with eschatology, I think it encompasses more than that.  Day in and day out in our lives, we don’t experience volcanoes and earthquakes, plagues or false teachers; but day in and day out, most of us, at one point or another in our lives, we have all experienced some really bad stuff.  I’m not talking about a dead car battery or some lost keys…I’m talking about some devastatingly, life changing stuff; illness, loss, divorce (which, can go either way but it’s worth mentioning).  These are things that alter who we are, our way of life, and our abilities.  So, if you’re willing, I would like to shift our focus in this text away from the more end of time talks, and more into the how do we handle these very personal experiences arena.

Have you ever heard someone express themselves saying “God is good”?  Of course.  I say it myself.  When do we usually say that?  Well, usually when something good has happened.  When someone comes through surgery successfully or recovers from an illness, we rejoice with “God is good”.  When we are able to pay for that unexpected expense, or get a passing grade on a test we didn’t study for, we share with our friends and loved ones, “God is good”.  When we get a big tax refund, or even when our team wins that high stakes game, “God is good”.  And it’s a true statement; indeed, God is good!  I love that we can praise and thank God for the good things in our lives.  But what about when these bad things we mentioned before happen?  When we go to the doctor for our yearly physical, and get news we weren’t expecting?  Is God still good, then?  Or when our loved one goes in for hip replacement and passes away on the operating room table; is God still good?  Or when there’s no food in the cupboard, and the landlord just served you with an eviction notice, and you don’t know where you and your children will go…is God still good then?  Is God still good when we’re in an abusive relationship and can’t figure out how to get out?  Is God still good when thousands die in an earthquake, or hurricane, or tsunami?  Is God indeed still good when thousands of innocent people die at the hands of a terrorist? 

The answer is yes; God is still good through all of these things.  Do we say that?  Usually not.  It’s usually in these times that we cease to praise God, and start to petition God.  It’s during these points when we feel we have nothing to be thankful for, opting instead to focus on our need.  But I think what we all need to realize, aside from the indisputable fact that God is good all of the time, and we should especially offer thanksgiving during these times.  I did a sermon very early in my lay speaking time talking about broken hallelujahs.  If you’re all singing the Leonard Cohen song in your head right now, you’re welcome; it’ll be there all day.  But think about it.  It’s so easy and almost effortless to offer these hallelujahs when everything is going right, but when things aren’t going right, those hallelujahs take some real effort.  We have to fight through our fears and our anger and our tears to cry them out; and for that reason, in my heart, I feel that those mean more to God than the easy ones.  They come from a true and grounded place of thanksgiving, through our wounds and the destruction that surrounds us.  They erupt from the ashes.  Sometimes they come with sorrow, and sometimes they’re a war cry; but these broken hallelujahs are the most precious, because like that widow and her two copper coins, they’re all we have left. 

All we need

ember 10, 2019

Luke 20:27-38

Everyone knows what memes are, right?  Memes are the best thing about the internet.  They’re pictures with hilarious captions on them.  I’m on a cleansing social media hiatus and I really miss memes…so if you see any good ones be sure and forward them to me.  For example:  My friend HG, the Bishop for TN’s Assistant, sent out a reminder email about this week’s task force meeting in Memphis.  In the email there were specific instructions about how to RSVP to this meeting; click the link below and complete the SurveyMonkey form and submit it.  Simple enough.  Instead, people starting to “reply all” with their response and meal requests.  So, seeing this, I sent HG a text of a meme of the character from Game of Thrones kneeling with his sword, and the caption said “Brace Yourselves…Reply All is Coming”.  My favorite meme of all time is this crazy picture of a chihuahua, with a tiny bib on, standing next to a plate of carrots, and the responses are hilarious:  are those Cheetos?  Why is that dog wearing a bib?  And finally, someone comments “this post is a mess”.  That’s a long story to say that this morning’s text reminded me of that meme…this text is a mess.   

Within the Bible there are several different types of experts, priests, and religious leaders that we encounter regularly…namely, the Pharisees and Scribes.  We are familiar with them, what they do, how they work; but today we will be talking about a group that most of us aren’t as familiar with…the Sadducees.  The Sadducees were more of a philosophical sect than anything, and they were strict with their beliefs.  They only accepted what was written in the Torah (the first five books of the Bible [as we know it today]) from Moses, and they completely disregarded any oral traditions, context, or cultural significance that it took to fully understand the text (today, we would call them Biblical Literalists (and there are many still who believe that the author of the text plainly meant what is written, without any “exegesis”, or study, as we call it).  They followed the law to the letter, and since there is no account of spirits or resurrection in these five books, the Sadducees absolutely rejected the resurrection of the dead (and that’s why they were so Sad U Cee).

This got me thinking about tradition and perception.   I attended a meeting on Thursday night in Columbia about building community.  We discussed what is community, how can we build community, and we spent a fair amount of time on the barriers to community, and two things came up:  tradition, and perception.  Tradition can get a bad rap.  Tradition is important…it reminds of where we’ve been and from what we’ve come.  It’s our roots, if you will.  The danger, however, is when we cling to tradition for the simple sake of clinging to tradition because that’s what we’ve always done.  If we don’t understand our traditions and why we observe these traditions and why and how these traditions form and continue to form us, we often find ourselves lost in a quagmire of confusion when these traditions are challenged.  It was once said that tradition is the living faith of the dead, and traditionalism is the dead faith of the living; traditionalism is what gives tradition this bad rap.  Perception was the other thing that was heavily discussed.  Perception is what you and I uniquely see and experience in our lives.  I have no perception of what it’s like to be married, or divorced, or have kids, but some of you here do.  Perception turns bad when we can’t see past it.  When we can’t set aside our own privilege and enter the world of someone else…to embrace their perception…therein lies the danger.  When we refuse to enter the world of the homeless, the sick, the aging, the oppressed and persecuted, we can quickly become systemically calloused without even being aware that this is going on.  The Sadducees we are discussing today suffered from traditionalism and perception apathy, which is a dangerous combination.

So, back to our story.  The Sadducees have approached Jesus with a question.  But not really just any question, this was more of a challenge.  They were hoping to stump the teacher, and humiliate him, or even worse trick him into committing heresy publicly.  So they reach back and pull out a bit of law known as the Levirate Marriage.  This was an old, but traditional, law that stated if a man marries a woman, and he dies before she bore a male heir, then his brother would marry her and this would continue until she either bore a male heir or until this simply wasn’t a possibility any longer.  This was law, and it was followed without negotiation or debate or anything.  The involved parties really had no say in the matter.  This law, or tradition, came about for good reason.  Women were no more than possessions back then, so if her husband was dead and she had no son or sons, then she would be a widow and would be marginalized to the outskirts of society, destitute and forgotten.  So, this tradition, this law, was meant to protect the women of that day and time. 

So, these Sadducees came to Jesus with a hypothetical scenario:  a woman marries a man, and has no male heirs, and he dies.  His brother then marries her, and has no male heirs with her.  The next brother marries her, and has no male heirs.  This continues seven times.  Seven times this poor woman is widowed, until finally she herself dies.  The question, though, is in the resurrection, whose wife is she, for she married seven times. 

Now everyone here knows I’m a huge West Wing fan, and immediately my first thought was Annabeth Schott saying “reject the premise of the question”, and that’s pretty much what Jesus did.  The problem here becomes that perspective we spoke of earlier.  We are human beings, living human lives, having human experiences, one of which is marriage.  There’s a small detail, often overlooked for what it means (we instead like to weaponize this line for our own purposes), but it says (in our UMH on p 867) until we are parted by death.  Until we are parted by death.  The premise of the question is rejected because human marriage does not follow us into death, because at death, we cease to be the human beings we are now and are transformed into something…else. 

And this is where it begins to get crazy.  I’ve had more than one conversation this week about what Heaven will be like.  We are a people who aren’t good with accepting the unknown.  We have traveled to the moon, we have explored the deepest depths of the ocean, and we have studied human anatomy with such fervor, because we constantly strive to be all-knowing.  It’s a need that’s very deeply rooted within us.  But the things of this world will cease to be and we will move on to something beyond compare, beyond comprehension, and beyond our wildest dreams.  We will no longer have 10 fingers and 10 toes, no more high cholesterol, no more diabetes….  All of our flaws and warts and bumps will be gone.  We will no longer need marriage, or children, or any of these human constructs we cling to, because we will have God, and I fully believe that God is all we will ever need or want.  I have faith.

And that’s what it comes down to; faith.  Faith is that blind following, acknowledging that you don’t have it all figured out, and that’s ok, because you don’t need to have it all figured out.  Your plans, your agendas, your intentions, they all cease to be relevant because I know, you know, that God wants nothing but good things for us and God will take care of us. 

Coming out of All Saints Sunday last week, someone asked me if I thought they would recognize their mom and dad in Heaven.  I believe so, and I believe so based on the Transfiguration when those with Jesus recognized Moses and Elijah, two people separated from them by centuries and still they knew them.  The follow up, of course, was if they would know them as mom and dad.  I don’t have the answer to that.  I don’t know if we will or not.  As a kid I heard that same response and it used to shake me and upset me to my core, but as I have grown, I’ve come to realize that this isn’t something I’m even entitled to worry about.  This isn’t my concern.  My concern should be focused on the objective fact that our Creator, our All-Knowing God, has created a place for you and me for us to dwell with God forever, and ever, and ever. 

And there, God is all any of us will want or need.  That, I believe.  Thanks be to God.