Christ the King B: Amen

Wisdom of the CrossOLD TESTAMENT: 2 Samuel 23: 1-7

To read the Lectionary passage from 2 Samuel

The story contained in the Books of Samuel tells of the extraordinary change in the way Israel is governed. Up to this time, there had been various tribes who on occasion had come together to combat a threat from other nations. In the Book of Judges, we are told how a person was raised by God to lead the tribes on particular occasions. The Spirit of God settles on the person and the story progresses so that we know God’s hand is involved in the consequences. In the Books of Samuel, there is a huge shift in the way that the society is structured. This would have occurred around the end of the 10th century bce. The center of government during the time of the judges was at Shiloh and by the time we got to the end of 2 Samuel, the center of what is now an empire has moved to Jerusalem.

The passage that we read is part of the Song of Deliverance (22:1-23:7) that David makes after his defeat of the Philistines and Saul. It acknowledges that everything which has happened is because the Lord has been there as his rock and refuge. The beginning of this passage affirms David as the anointed one of God. The understanding here is that David is King because God chose him and that the Spirit of the Lord speaks using him. It goes on to speak of David’s reign and the good things that came out of it. According to the words, when a ruler rules in justice and awareness of God’s presence, the ruling is idyllic. This is followed by the claim that God has made an everlasting covenant with David.

The Song is a reminder to David that he is not autonomous, that God’s Presence abides through his life and through his rule. These words are purported to be David’s last words and even if they are not from David, there is no doubt that they are ancient. While this is essentially a memorial to King David and what he did for the ancient monarchy, the image as light and life giving rain can also be seen as an understanding of Christ’s reign, which is why we read this as one of our Christ the King passages. It’s another one of those passages that while not “usurping” its original intent is brought into new focus with Christ.

The everlasting covenant relates to the promise of eternal life that was depicted in Christ’s reign. This Sunday marks the occasion of the last words we speak before the new church year is upon us. Last words, just as David’s last words, close the book on what was, and brace the community as it launches toward its future.

  1. Malcolm Sinclair makes this point:

 

These last words allow little leeway for the next generation of blessings. Only a royal monarch with all the trappings and power flowing from the top can honor this pattern. There is no place here for a manger child, a, a Nazareth nobody, a washer of feet, or a flesh-and-blood life susceptible to lashes, thorns, and nails. Yet that is the one who appears among us when the church year begins next Sunday.

What are we to do? Structurally we have long been tempted by that royal model with its crown and scepter. It fits better into our world of power mongers and high achievers. Yet the gracious last words of the other heroes take us into a strange world that is vulnerable and out of step with our times and neighbors. It is helpful to realize that last words are never what they appear, but are in turn taken by those who follow to be used as protagonists, antagonists, subjects, objects, verbs, curses, or love letters.

On the cusp of a new church year it seems fitting to utter the best words we can, those truest, noblest, cleanest, and closest to the heart. Such words are wide and hold open the door to the wideness of the mystery being born. Such words give broad syntax and good grammar to all those conversationalists who shall stand where we stand today.[i]

  

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What sense does this give you as we close out this church year?
  3. What do you think this has to do with us and with how we live our lives?
  4. In what ways do we “misinterpret” the idea of Christ’s Reign or Christ’s “Kingship”?

 

NEW TESTAMENT: Revelation 1: 4b-8

To read the Lectionary passage from Rev elation

As the title of this book proclaims, the content is a “revelation”, a message of God told through humans. But it is also structured as a letter from John to the seven churches of Asia. In this week when we are celebrating and affirming Christ as King, we read a description of who Jesus is, an explanation of what Jesus has done for us, and a revelation of what our response should be. The writer depicts Jesus as: (1) Faithful witness—one who lived and moved among us as a mentoring teacher and life-changing witness; (2) Firstborn of the dead—one who overcame death and assumed his rightful place in eternity; and (3) Ruler of the Kings of the earth—one who has ultimate authority over all creation—and even over human-made divisions. The depiction of what Jesus has done is told in present tense, reminding us that Christ’s love is always present, not an historical representation of the past, but something that continues perpetually and eternally.

Then the phrase “made us to be” implies that we are to live as members of this Kingdom and “as priests serving God.” The passage ends with the affirmation of God as “alpha and omega”, “beginning and end”, a reminder that there is not slot of time or space that is without God.

The Book of Revelation, as confusing as it may be to some and as confusing as some have tried to make it, is a message of hope even in the face of despair. Its main purpose was to encourage early Christians that were under Roman persecution to remain faithful during the time of tribulation (as opposed, more than likely, to some future tribulation to come!) The writer was offering a different vision that the one in which they were living. This hope is the assurance of something different, both now and for the future.

To those long ago hurting ones to whom John wrote, to those long ago ones whose lives were marked by pain and fear, by weakness and oppression of injustice and death, whose lives were marked by the terror of the now and haunted by the past and uncertain of the future, to those ones and to us, to you, God through the words of Revelation offers us a vision of a brand new life; a life lived in a brand new order in a brand new way. Essentially, what God has to say in this letter is that no matter what comes against you in this life; no matter if all of the power of pain and chaos of the universe seems to overtake you all at once; no matter if you can not control one single thing or fix one single thing in your life, the worst is over, the healing has already begun.

 

  1. How does this passage speak to you?
  2. What does that mean to you to “live as priests serving God” and live as members of God’s Kingdom?
  3. What does this message of hope mean for you?

 

GOSPEL: John 18: 33-37

To read the Lectionary passage from The Gospel According to John

This passage is “Scene Two” of the seven scenes that make up the trial of Jesus befoe Pilate. Ironically, the Jewish authorities remain outside because they want to remain pure for the Passover that very evening. (So, apparently, once again, being religious trumps being human.) Pilate is going back and forth between Jesus and them. Pilate likely considers himself (or at least is trying to convince everyone else that he is) the most powerful, most in-control person in Jerusalem. He even brags about his power to Jesus. Pilate probably could care less whether or not Jesus is crucified, but if he doesn’t appease the Jewish authorities, he will lose his own standing and power.

To speak of Jesus as “King of the Jews” is to use a Jewish understanding and category. It is a dangerous depiction, citing alternative government and a statement of revolt. Jesus is seeking radical change in what is. He must be stopped. Jesus’ kingship, while it is and should be a sort of “revolt” is not “of this world”. Jesus embodies truth. Jesus embodies God. We stand in a threshold between two times—the “already” and the “not yet”. We are given glimpses of what the future holds but it is not yet fully realized. Our image of kingship depicted here is a subverted one. Christ did not come to take over or to control the world, but to remake it, to recreate it. The “power” of this kingship is found only as it is subverted.

So we come to the end of our liturgical calendar. We have walked the seasons of birthing and being and suffering and dying. We have told the stories of creation and destruction and renewal. And we come now to the end. Henry Van Dyke said that “if the meaning could be put into a sentence, there would be no need of telling the story.” On this last Sunday of the Church Year, we celebrate what we believe will finally be the last day of history. Christ will be recognized as the King of all Creation. But, as Louis L’Amour said that “there will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does Jesus’ Kingship mean in terms of this Scripture?
  3. What does it mean for Jesus to be “King” over our lives?
  4. What does the idea of a “subversive” kingship mean?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

A vision is not just a picture of what could be; it is an appeal to our better selves, a call to become something more. (Rosabeth Kanter)

 

The future enters into us, in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens. (Rainer Maria Rilke, 1875-1926)

 

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried. (G.K. Chesterton)

 

Closing

 

Waiting for the “when” keeps me from appreciating what I now have. Longing for promises and dreaming dreams is not a harmful deed as long as the present moment is not overlooked, as long as gratitude rises for what is already here, as long as I do not base my happiness on what is still wanting. Thankfulness for what has already been given is the foundation for hoping for what is not yet.

Today I am going to put aside my “when this happens” and my “if only this could be” and my “when things get better” and my “as soon as I have this.” I am going to harvest what I now have, gather all the many gifts that are already mine. I am going to observe what has been placed in the granary of my heart and marvel at the abundance.

I will stand before this heap of blessings and take a long, grateful look. I will say farewell to my “when” and be thankful for what is.[ii]

 

May an abundance of gratitude burst forth as you reflect upon what you have received.

May thanksgiving overflow in your heart, and often be proclaimed in your prayer.

May you gather around the table of your heart the ardent faithfulness, kindness, and

goodness of each person who is true to you.

May the harvest of your good actions bring forth plentiful fruit each day.

May you discover a cache of hidden wisdom among the people and events that have

brought you distress and sorrow.

May your basket of blessings surprise you with its rich diversity of gifts and its

            opportunities for growth.

May all that nourishes and resources your life bring you daily satisfaction and renewed

hope.

May you slow your hurried pace of life so that you can be aware of, and enjoy, what you

            too easily take for granted.

May you always be open, willing, and ready to share your blessings with others.

May you never forget the Generous One who loves you lavishly and unconditionally.[iii]

[i] From Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 319.

[ii] Joyce Rupp, “When”, from Out of the Ordinary: Prayers, Poems, and Reflections for Every Season, (Notre Dame, ID: Ave Maria Press, 1999), 206.

[iii] Ibid., “A Thanksgiving Blessing”, 207.

Christ the King A: Becoming the Body of Christ

Christ Pantocrator mosaic
Daphni, Greece (ca. 1080-1100)

OLD TESTAMENT:  Ezekiel 34: 11-16, 20-24

To read the Old Testament Lectionary passage, click here

The oracles of Ezekiel are often downright alarming to us.  The writer’s understanding of God often seems to us to depict a powerful and sometimes scary Holy One upon a high and mighty throne that judges and hands out punishment because of the sins of the people, so a little history would probably help us out a little.  First of all, the prophet Ezekiel was probably part of the group of those who were deported from Jerusalem to Babylon in the year 597 BCE.  So his ministry was to those who were in exile with him.  He used visions to give them hope, to remind them that God was present even in the exile with them.  But he also proclaimed that the loss of the temple and the exile was the people’s fault, rather than God’s, that the circumstances in which they now found themselves were consequences of what they had done and how they had acted.  They had heard God but had not taken God’s Word seriously.  He condemned the leaders for being irresponsible shepherds of the people and for their lack of justice toward those in their care.
So, this reading focuses on restoration.  Using the image of the shepherd, the writer depicts God as the One who will take over and rescue the sheep.  It depicts a Great Gathering.  God as the Shepherd seeks each one out and brings them to good pasture, green and lush and plenty.  The metaphor of the shepherd is a common one in the ancient Near East.  It is a metaphor not of passivity or weakness, but of a power defined by justice and compassion, which is why this reading works well for our Christ the King readings.  After the promise of new leadership, God promises a new covenant of peace.
If you read it, though, this is not necessarily an indictment but rather a condemning of the behavior of the unjust leaders (and possibly of the people themselves for following those who were not good and just!)  So God will step in.  In other words, hope is never lost.  We read the words “I will save my flock.”  There is talk of judgment, of justification, but over and above, God saves.  This is not carrying any of those so-called “hellfire and brimstone” images but rather the image of One who dispenses justice and discipline. This is not, contrary to what some would think, a God of wrath but, rather, a God of Righteousness, a God of Justice, a God of Light, lighting the way for those in darkness and shining a light on those who inflict the darkness.  But when it is all said and done, God will transform all into the flock of this righteous and just Shepherd, where they will be fed and nurtured, and live in peace.  It is the vision of the Peaceable Kingdom.  It is the vision of God.
We read this as part of our Christ the King Lection because it is a different view of the King.  The King is a Shepherd (and the Shepherd is a King).  This is not a King who rules in wrath and dispenses punishment but rather a King who rules in righteousness and dispenses justice.  And, more than that, this is a God who seeks and searches until the flock is found.  And when God starts dividing the flock, it’s not into “good and bad”, “right and wrong”, “us and them”.  Rather, it is bringing strength to the weak, healing to the injured, and “foundness” to the lost.  Any division that happens is so that God’s grace can permeate and save us all.
a.      What is your response to this passage?
b.      What is it about some of these visions that bother us so much?
c.       What image of the Peaceable Kingdom does this passage depict?
d.      Why do we insist on dividing God’s Kingdom into “us” and “them”?
NEW TESTAMENT:  Ephesians 1: 15-23
Most scholars agree that Ephesians is considered what you could call a “Deutero-Pauline” work, implying that it is “second” or “secondary”.  (This would also refer to 2 Thessalonians and Colossians).  These letters were probably written in the 70’s or 80’s.  Paul more than likely died around 60, sometime around Nero’s reign.  So, rather than being written by Paul himself, Ephesians was more than likely written by a follower of Paul, using the format and even the style that Paul employed in his letters.  This is not plagiarism.  In that society, placing someone else’s name on a work was considered the highest form of compliment.
The main purpose of Ephesians, probably written to a Gentile audience, seems to be to remind the believers of their communal identity in their new status in Christ and to urge them to walk in ways that demonstrate this communal identity and unity.  (When you think of it, this idea of “community” would probably have been more difficult for Gentiles to grasp than for the Jews of that time, who had a sense of community embedded in their very being.)  The church here is understood as a Body of Christ that is exalted, which resonates with our understanding of the community of saints here and forever.
In this week’s reading (which is actually made up of four run-on sentences for all you English writing aficionados!), the writer describes Christ’s Reign as having by established by God’s power in the work, death, Resurrection, and spirit of Christ.  It is not a matter of placing Christ as King over other Kings.  This is not some calculated hierarchy of authority.  Rather, Christ is King…Period.  There is no other.  And this Reign of Christ IS the fullness of the Kingdom of God, when peace and justice and righteousness will finally be securely in place.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that “nothing is lost…everything is taken up in Christ, rid of evil, and remade.  Christ restores all this as God originally intended to be—without the distortion resulting from our sins.”  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, as quoted by Jennifer M. McBride in Feasting on the Word.)
In verse 18, “the riches of the glorious inheritance of the saints” refers to that inheritance that is extended through Christ who God raised from the dead, caused to sit in “heavenly places”, and gave authority over all things.  We are part of this inheritance.  But the reading does not end with the Kingship of Christ as one that is removed from us or one that is “out there” for us to inherit.  The reading instead closes with a reference to the church as the Body of Christ that is triumphant in all things, the point of eschatological fulfillment.  In other words, the Body of Christ is us.
There’s this huge poster way up on the wall of one of the meeting rooms at Lakeview, our Texas Conference assembly and retreat center.  If you look at it closely, you saw all these wonderful different pictures of people in ministry, doing what God called them to do.  But if you step back far enough, you realize that together the pictures form a silhouetted image of Jesus.  The point is that it takes all the pictures finally coming into being, coming into focus, and fitting with each other the way a jigsaw puzzle does, to realize that image of Christ, that Vision of God.
In this week when we celebrate the Reign of Christ, we are given a tiny glimpse of that vision that will be.  But unlike earthly kings and queens that we crown and just sit back to see what they do, the crowning of Christ as King comes one picture at a time.  What picture is yours?  What part of this vision has God called you by name to bring?  What were you created to be?
a.      What message does this reading hold for you?
b.      What image of the Reign of Christ does this reading give you?
c.       What does it mean for you to have this “inheritance”?
d.      So, what does it mean for us to BE the Body of Christ?
e.      What part of this vision is ours to build?
GOSPEL:  Matthew 25: 31-46
This passage probably makes all of us a little uncomfortable.  We’ve gotten to know this welcoming, nurturing Jesus and here, just before we read of the conspiracy to arrest Jesus in the next chapter, just before the beginning of the end, we get this.  First, we get a depiction of the Son of Man coming in all his glory.  It reflects the imagery of Daniel (7:13-14) and foretells the coming judgment.  The image seems to be a little scary.  From the throne, the King uses his authority to separate individuals like sheep and goats.  And we are told that the sheep will inherit the kingdom.  So what happens to the goats?
The issues of the final judgment and the establishment of God’s Reign were of paramount importance to the writer of Matthew’s version of the Gospel.  (So keep in mind that it’s not clear if these things were on the top of Jesus’ list!  In fact, there are some theologians that think that this prophetic writing was added to the end of the string of parables that came before it.)  I mean, think of all the ways that Jesus talked about salvation and the Kingdom.  None of them included a list of who was “in” and who was “out”.  Jesus seemed to be more concerned with showing everyone the way home.
The judgment is not based merely on doing the right thing.  In fact, both those who had done what was good and honorable and those who had not actually had the same response.  (When was that, Lord?)  That’s pretty cool.  Those who were doing the “right things” still had doubts, still had questions, still walked in faith.  But they loved their neighbor.  It was an authentic outpouring of the love of God.  Apparently, that’s what it’s all about.
But this is not a checklist of things to do so that you can go to heaven or whatever your vision of eternal life is.  This is depicting a way of living, a way of being.  This is depicting the Kingdom of God.  And getting signed on to the sheep team is not about us.  It is about loving our neighbor.  It is about being Christ in the world.  It is easy to read this and look upon salvation as something that we achieve.  But salvation is discovered (and sometimes in ways that we do not expect.)  And perhaps this writing is nothing more than a reminder of what it means to walk in the Way of Christ.  It means to love God and love neighbor.  The two cannot be separated.  As Christians (and as good Methodists), we usually default on the side of grace.  So, again, what happens to the goats?
I heard an NPR “Fresh Air” broadcast several years ago that included an interview with Mark Derr, a naturalist who recently wrote How the Dog Became the Dog—From Wolves to our Best Friends.  In his book, Derr explores how the relationship between humans and wolves developed, and how that relationship then influenced the physical evolution of wolves into dogs.  He says that he believes that humans and wolves developed a close relationship after recognizing themselves in each other while hunting.  So, he surmises, the dog is a creation of wolves and humans—of two equal beings that came together at a certain point in history and have been together ever since.  As time went on, the physical features of the wolf began to change.  It’s skeletal frame became smaller and its jaw shortened.  In essence, the wolf became a dog by becoming a little more like its human companions.  So, maybe we’re all a bunch of goats.  Maybe the point is to become a sheep by taking on more human characteristics, by following in the way of the one who was fully human and fully divine.
We stand in a threshold between two times.  The Kingdom of God has both already and not yet begun.  We are given glimpses of what will be, but there is still much work to be done.  In Creation, God gave the gift of the very essence of God.  God spoke Creation into being and called we humans to be the very image of the Godself, full of love and compassion and righteousness and a hunger for justice and peace.  In Feasting on the Word, Lindsay P. Armstrong depicts this passage as a “wellness check and possibly even a warning to those living in unhealthy, self-centered ways.”  He says that “we may not like warnings or wellness checks; after all, they ask us to recalibrate our lives.  However, they provide a critical wellness overview that we are wise to tend, particularly since heart trouble plagues us all.”
We do not do what we do as Christians to gain salvation.  Being Christian means loving God and loving neighbor.  It means being who God meant for you to be, the very image of the Godself, in the deepest part of your being.  It means becoming a sheep and realizing that it’s about more than you and all the other goats on your team.  It’s about the Shepherd; it’s about following Christ; it’s about being the Body of Christ in the world.
This week’s Gospel passage depicts what it means to live into the fullness of this glory—feeding where there is hunger, bringing water where there is thirst, providing clothing, and help, and companionship to those in need, and welcoming every stranger into our midst.  It is that ever widening circle bringing everyone into the center and it gives us that sacramental vision to which we are called—“when justice shall roll down like waters and righteous like an ever-flowing stream, when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.”  Rosabeth Kanter said that “a vision is not just a picture of what could be; it is an appeal to our better selves, a call to become something more.”  
a.      What meaning does this passage hold for you?
b.      What is so bothersome about this passage?
c.       How would we fare in our “wellness check”?
d.      What depiction does this provide for us of that Peaceable Kingdom?
Some Quotes for Further Reflection:
The marvelous vision of the peaceable Kingdom, in which all violence has been overcome and all men, women, and children live in loving unity with nature, calls for its realization in our day-to-day lives. Instead of being an escapist dream, it challenges us to anticipate what it promises. Every time we forgive our neighbor, every time we make a child smile, every time we show compassion to a suffering person, every time we arrange a bouquet of flowers, offer care to tame or wild animals, prevent pollution, create beauty in our homes and gardens, and work for peace and justice among peoples and nations we are making the vision come true. (Henri J.M. Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)
Jesus didn’t come to make us Christian; Jesus came to make us fully human. (Hans Rookmaaker)
The future enters into us in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens.  (Rainer Maria Rilke) 
Closing
To your table you bid us come.  You have set the places, you have poured the wine, and there is always room, you say, for one more.  And so we come. 
From the streets and from the alleys we come. 
From the deserts and from the hills we come. 
From the ravages of poverty and from the palaces of privilege we come. 
Running, limping, carried, we come. 
We are bloodied with our wars, we are wearied with our wounds, we carry our dead within us, and we reckon with their ghosts. 
We hold the seeds of healing, we dream of a new creation, we know the things that make for peace, and we struggle to give them wings. 
And yet, to your table, we come. 
Hungering for your bread, we come;
thirsting for your wine, we come;
singing your song in every language, speaking your name in every tongue, in conflict and in communion, in discord and in desire, we come.
O God of Wisdom, we come.  Amen.
                                                                        (Jan L. Richardson, In Wisdom’s Path, # 129)