November 20, 2016 Christ
the King Sunday Luke 23:33-43
At the beginning of the service I said
that our Bible readings aren’t what we would expect for Christ the King
Sunday. Kings are strong and triumphant
people. We’d then expect Bible texts
about Jesus in power and triumph.
Stories about the resurrection would seem to fit. There we’d see Jesus triumphing over death
and we I could create a sermon that says that if you are a faithful person you
too will triumph over death.
But our Bible readings are not about
the resurrection. The passage from Luke
that we read is about the crucifixion.
This is the opposite of triumph.
This is failure – complete and total failure. Why this text to celebrate Jesus as king?
Or probably far more important is this
question. Who cares? When our lives are focused on Thanksgiving
and Christmas what does the fact that… a long time ago in a country far far
away a Jew named Jesus was killed by being nailed to a stick along the side of
a road? How on earth does that have
anything to do with me? Good question.
If you picked up a Star Wars theme
when I said, “a long time ago in a country far far away…,” that was
deliberate. I think that can help us get
at the answers we need.
Star Wars is written around the idea
that there is a supernatural force that some people can harness to accomplish
their will or overcome adversity. The
force can help them overcome almost impossible odds and do things that are
nothing short of miraculous. When
harnessed for good evil cannot hope to triumph.
The good guy, with the force as his ally, always wins in the end. There’s a sacrificial part to it too. Star Wars fans can certainly point out
characters who sacrifice even their lives so as to empower others more
effectively.
Many people see their Christian faith
in the same way. They think there are
powers of evil at work in the world and that if they do things the right way
there are supernatural powers of good that will help them. They believe that if they harness the correct
powers of prayer, and worship, and Bible study that God is sure to help them when
their cause is just. Success may not be
easy. It may require some sacrifice, but
it is assured.
They even believe that some people are
more skilled at harnessing the powers of good than others are. I can think of a number of times when I’ve
been in the hospital because someone is seriously injured or dying. Family and friends show relief when I walk
into the room. They ask me to pray to
God to save their loved one. Their
sentiments and their fears are understandable.
I don’t want to mock anyone in that terrifying situation, but I also
want to say, “If you think that because I arrived more effective prayers will
begin rising to heaven you’d better find yourself a better pastor!” I can’t swing the future or call upon
supernatural powers that are going to overcome the present reality. God’s will will be done and neither I nor
anybody else has the power to change that.
If “The Force” from Star Wars was a
reflection of Christian theology then we would have Jesus rising from the dead
as our Bible readings for Christ the King Sunday. But we don’t.
Scripture wants us to see Jesus’
kingly and most powerful moment was not in performing miracles or healing
people or using divine power, not even in triumphing over death in the
resurrection, but in being wrongly crucified; and not making use of divine
power whatsoever. If there was such a
thing as the Force, Jesus could certainly have used it. But he didn’t use that escape route.
Something deeper and more significant
is going on here. Our second reading
from Colossians had the verse, “For in [Jesus] all the fullness of God was
pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all
things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his
cross.” (Colossians 1:19-20) The word “pleased” is the Greek word . Indeed it means to be happy with, to be well
pleased, or to take delight in something.
In other words, it is God’s delight to come to earth as a limited and
mortal human. And not just delight to
come to earth, but delight to reveal the fullness of God’s nature to us – even
as that meant crucifixion.
Why do we call Jesus king? It is not because he was popular, nor because
he could do miracles. It’s not because
he would eventually be raised from the dead.
He is king because of his love for us.
And this was not a grudging, almost hateful, demanding love. It was a delight-filled, a joy-filled love.
Look at the crucifixion scene as our
gospel writer Luke lays it out for us.
In the previous verses Jesus has been tried and sentenced to death. He’s been mocked by soldiers and flogged
nearly to death. He’s forced to
shamefully carry a cross – his own means of death – to the execution site. He fails at it and someone else is compelled
to carry it.
With no details in the story at all
Luke simply says they crucified him along with other criminals. He’s taunted and mocked by passers-by, by the
religious leaders, and even by one of the criminals with him. It’s got to be bad when even a bad guy mocks
and rejects you with his dying breath.
If ever there would be solidarity you think it’d be then.
What are Jesus’ responses?
“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
And to a criminal, “You will be with me in paradise.”
This is the role
God takes on with delight!?! This is how
much God loves us? Humans at their
worst, yet God loves us so much that at our worst God still wants to be with
us.
Have you ever loved someone or some
cause so much that your devotion, even if costly, didn’t seem to hurt
much? Have you ever loved and cared
about something and given yourself over to it even if it would never win you
praise and no one would notice?
One summer I lived at seminary and
picked up a job assisting Guy Kump, one of the maintenance workers. He was responsible for cleaning and preparing
several of the seminary’s buildings for the upcoming fall semester. There was nothing spectacular or
stand-out-ish about him. He wasn’t
particularly smart or great at conversation.
But he did have a passion for cleanliness, especially floors. Any floor under his care was going to come
out spotless. I remember helping to
strip and wax the vast marble floor at the front of the chapel. After a couple days work and seven coats of
wax the floor reflected like a mirror.
It reflected so much light that it almost hurt your eyes. Overall the chapel is a very beautiful
building and visitors often oohed and ahhed when they entered. A floor that reflected like a mirror was just
a part of it all.
If the chapel was magnificent, the
seminary compensated with the dorms and apartments on campus. Old, out of date, and dingy; they were hot in
the summer and cold in the winter. Walk
into some of those buildings and you wondered whether the place was coming or
going. But when it came to cleaning and
prepping them, Guy Kump saw them as no different than the magnificent
chapel. Floors were scrubbed and cleaned
and then waxed with numerous coats.
Students entered and paid no attention to the fact that their floors
shone too. No one noticed how hard Guy
worked there. But to him the darkest
most forgotten corner with its worn out old tile was just as important as the
marble in the chapel. I saw him love
each and every inch and it was cared for equally. I think I can safely say that those floors
were a part of Guy’s own sense of self.
He found fulfillment and wholeness for himself in the oft overlooked
role of being a janitor.
Perhaps that’s a trite example of
selfless love, especially compared to the crucifixion, but if you’ve ever felt
that way about something you know what I mean.
No matter how much you give and how much it costs, somehow in doing so
you find your very own self most complete and fulfilled.
When my colleagues and I met to talk
about sermons for today one of them said she wished she could be as loving as
Jesus – to be so filled with love that she could genuinely forgive people who
were in the process of humiliating her and then killing her. But she couldn’t. She knew we were called to mirror the love of
Christ, but it would never happen. She
simply couldn’t be that loving.
While we are indeed called to have
such selfless love, the good news is that while we are certain to fail, it is
not our ability to love that saved us.
The good news is that we are
delighted in. No matter how bad, or
shameful or disgusting or unlovable we think we might be, no matter how guilty
we may feel that Jesus’ love for us is so superior to our ability to love, we
are so loved by God that for God’s own sense of fulfillment God willingly, and
in some sense even joyfully, suffered crucifixion to save us.
You are not loved by God
reluctantly. God did not grudgingly die
to save you as if you were a burden he was forced to bear against his
will. While horrific and painful, saving
you was God’s good pleasure and joy. His
gift.
This gift is what makes Jesus
king. This gift is not seen in
resurrection. It is seen in
crucifixion. Though it happened a long
time ago in a country far far away it is God’s resounding Yes! to you, for this
day and for every day. May you always
know how much you are loved and how valuable God finds you to be.
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