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.

Proper 16B: Living in the Cloud

CloudOLD TESTAMENT: 1 Kings 8: (1,6,10-11), 22-30, 41-43

Read the Passage

This week’s passage occurs some eleven years after the setting of last week’s reading. Solomon’s kingdom is solidified and is entering its second decade. The previous chapters tell of the seven years that it took to build the temple. Solomon uses the finest building materials and the most talented and experience craftsmen. The building is magnificent. When the temple is ready, Solomon brings up the Ark of the Covenant, which has been in the Tabernacle, and installs it in the Temple, in the innermost sanctuary, the Holy of Holies, under the wings of the cherubim. As soon as the priests put the Ark in its place, a cloud fills the Temple and the glory of the Lord inhabits it.

This cloud has appeared before—when the Israelites were escaping the Egyptian army, when they were given the Commandments as a gift from God and a symbol of the covenant, and then the cloud settled on the Tabernacle. The cloud represents God’s Presence to the writer of this account. It represents continuity. The same God who brought them out of danger now dwells with them in the land.

For us in our Christian understanding, it is difficult to understand the significance of the Temple in Jewish theology. The Temple is the place of which God says, “My name shall be there.” It is the place where heaven meets earth and where God’s glory appears. And yet, Solomon’s prayer does not confine God to the Temple. He acknowledges that the “house”, the Temple, cannot contain God. For this reason, even though the Temple is central to Israel’s worship, it is not essential. When it is destroyed (twice to come), God is still present and attentive to the people.

By including “foreigners”, Solomon is also asking God to heed the prayers of others. We, then, are included in God’s mercy and have access to God even at this early stage in history (and, for that matter, realize our own calling to include others beyond our own traditions and beliefs). The Temple is a sign and a means of Communion with God. It is not the only place God is, but is still a sign of God’s mercy and God’s presence which is available to all.

Solomon’s prayers are, once again, not limited to himself. Before, rather than asking for riches or success, remember that Solomon asked for wisdom. Now he asks for justice and God’s presence with the people. Praying for justice should not be construed as praying for destructing of the unjust, but rather a prayer for us to realize our own role in the realization of that justice, whether it be a change in how we view the world or courage to speak the truth in love.

Solomon’s words bring us an important understanding of prayer. The Lord is not just the property of Israel (or, for that matter, any other one group of people). Solomon alludes to the incomparable and magnanimous grace of the Lord which extends beyond the imaginations and beyond any disagreements with neighbors that we may have, which extends into the world, the just and the unjust, the wise and the unwise. Realization of this and prayers for wisdom and justice drive home the notion that God is God, that God is not our property or our agent, that God is not on our side or on the other side or even on some side that a third party is inventing. It is finally getting us to the point where we figure out that the way we connect with this God is to leave our alliances, our riches, and our own sense of who we think God is on the ground beneath us, repent, and then, finally, turn toward a new perception of reality that we cannot control or contain.

Maybe we systematic, dogmatic, and pragmatic followers of Christ have it wrong. Perhaps there is a cloud after all. Perhaps when we understand faith not as belief or knowledge but as gaining the insight to walk into the cloud, then we will finally be on our journey toward Communion with God.

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What is your understanding of God’s Presence? How does the Temple or other spaces play into that for you?
  3. How does this speak to you about the inclusion of others in our understanding of God’s Presence?
  4. What does this say about our understanding of wisdom? About our understanding of justice?
  5. How does this speak to your own understanding of God?

 

NEW TESTAMENT: Ephesians 6: 10-20

To read the passage, click on http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=306301785)

This passage is familiar to most Christians. So familiar, in fact, that it is often used to justify violence or retribution in God’s name. But, really, does that even mesh with what we know of the message of Christ or what Paul and his own disciples (such as the writer of Ephesians) were trying to espouse?

These verses form the climax of the letter, and the word “finally” connects them with what has preceded (and what we have read the last few weeks). The writer’s imperatives to “be strong” in the Lord and “put on” the armor of God imply a realization of our human inadequacy for spiritual “battle”. The struggle here, though, is not meant to be a “flesh and blood” struggle, but one against the powers of this world. This is not intended to imply some sort of personal fight against “Satan”, the devil, or any other “other-worldly” influence. This is a call to abide in God in the face of the powers of this world—the powers of greed, political power, materialism, selfishness…you name it.

The “armor” is meant to be a metaphor. (Once again, taking this literally is not only a misinterpretation but could produce dangerous consequences.). Here, the “belt” is truth; the “breastplate” is righteousness; the “shoes” are the “gospel of peace”; the “shield” is faith; the “helmet” is salvation, and the “sword” is the Spirit or the Word. These weapons are indeed meant for “war” but it is a different kind of war. “Putting on the whole armor of God”, taking unto oneself the things that are of God, readies one to live the Gospel, to live and speak a “battle” for peace, and justice, and mercy for all. It is a call to employ the “weapons” of the Spirit of God. (Quite different from “going to war” in the name of God!)

The readers of the letter are exhorted to “be strong”. The Greek here is actually a reflexive tense. In other words, we are told to “strengthen ourselves” and “clothe ourselves”. There is an acknowledgment here of God’s power within us. There is work to do.

This passage and, for that matter, all of Ephesians, is a call to abandon any sort of Christian naiveté that fails to recognize the forces that bring destruction and division in our world (and those that bring destruction and division even within our communities, our families, or ourselves). It is not a call to appease them, but to stand up against them.

The final call to serious prayer echoes the emphasis with which this passage began: the need to have a grounded and solid spirituality as a basis for living with Christ’s vision and power in the world rather than an agenda served up by those that see change as a threat. This spirituality is subversive. It warrants change, rather than a type of Christian triumphalism and hate-mongering. When spirituality is subversive, peace has a chance. So, there…”Onward, Christian Soldiers”. (Good grief I hate that hymn when it’s not explained! J) But, really, there’s nothing wrong with the words of the hymn themselves. They are meant to echo the call of Ephesians. But popular culture has seemed to turn it into a processional of Christian triumphalism. And then you add the military language and it gets completely usurped into something that in no way resembles what the Christian message entails. But I don’t think this hymn is meant to call us to either triumphalism or militarism, but rather a call to enter into God’s ongoing redemption of all of Creation. So here are the words to the familiar hymn, Onward Christian Soldiers, written in 1864 by Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould, keeping in mind the way the writer of Ephesians framed this passage:

 

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before.

Christ, the royal Master, leads against the foe; forward into battle see his banners go!

 

At the sign of triumph Satan’s host doth flee; on then, Christian soldiers, on to victory!

Hell’s foundations quiver at the shout of praise;

[people] lift your voices, loud your anthems raise.

 

Like a mighty army moves the church of God, [people] we are treading where the saints

have trod.

We are not divided, all one body we, one in hope and doctrine, one in charity.

 

Crowns and thrones may perish, kingdoms rise and wane, but the church of Jesus

constant will remain.

Gates of hell can never ‘gainst that church prevail; we have Christ’s own promise, and

that cannot fail.

 

Onward then, ye people, join our happy throng, blend with ours your voices in the

         triumph song.

Glory, laud, and honor unto Christ the King, this through countless ages [we] and angels

sing.

 

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before!

 

  1. How does this passage speak to you?
  2. In what ways is this passage misused in our society?
  3. What does this “armor” of God mean for you?
  4. What are your thoughts about the words of the familiar hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers”?
  5. What does this passage, taken in this way, call us to do?

 

GOSPEL: John 6: 56-69

(To read the passage, click on http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=306301700)

For the fifth week in a row, we are in the sixth chapter of John. Throughout the chapter, is the discussion of the bread that gives life. The words have been greeted with misunderstanding, confusion, and rejection. In today’s reading, we hear the disciples’ reaction, those closest to Jesus, those who have been handed all of the explanations. These are not just the “twelve” disciples, but rather “the many” probably refers to some of the periphery of Jesus’ other followers, those who have joined Jesus and the Twelve as they have made this journey through the region. But these disciples are one of “us”. They are not limited to the “them” about which we keep hearing.

So the fact that they don’t get it is uncomfortable. The point is, though, that they probably do understand it and just cannot believe it or accept it. Perhaps they understand it so well that they see the writing on the wall as to what it means for their own lives. Jesus’ reference to the “flesh” as useless is not a rejection or a condemnation of the body or a denial of God’s goodness. “Flesh”, here, refers to the “normal” way of seeing. Faith is presented as the work of God. We need faith, we need the Spirit, to believe (and God, in God’s incredible mercy and grace, offers it to all!) It is because of this that our calling is not just to belief, but to “abiding” in Christ, to entering Christ, even with our unbelief.

The truth is, again, that these hearers wanted something that was easily understood, something that they could put their arms around, so to speak. And they wanted something that was convenient, something that they could put in their pocket and carry away. Do you mean following the old traditions, the old laws, or do you mean writing new laws? Which is it? Tell us the easiest way to understand. Tell us the fastest way to be part of this. And what are you talking about, with words of blood and bread. That makes no sense. Which is it? Either it is the way we know or it is against what we know. Which is it?

Jesus’ answer over and over again was “neither”. It is not the old way of the traditional religion and it is not the way of the more and more prevalent powers of the society and the government in which they live. It is, you see, not a way that necessarily fits in with any of the ways of this world. Jesus calls us to “abide in these ways”, not just by believing or blindly accepting what he said but by entering the way of Christ, even in the midst of our unbelief. Because even in the midst of rejection and unbelief, God still works, continually calling all into life. Abiding in Christ is not a matter of picking which way of being is right and which way of being is wrong; it is about looking at life differently and entering a new life and a new way of being altogether. It is, in essence, proclaiming “neither” and beginning to live in a new way—a life lived within God’s vision of mercy, justice, and peace.

In this world in which we live, we are always presented with choices–good versus bad, healthy versus unhealthy, saving versus spending, conservative versus liberal, violence versus sitting back and letting things overtake us. We live in a sort of black and white, “paper or plastic” society. But God calls us to a different way. Walter Wink coined the phrase “the third way”. It recognizes both that power and systems are not God but also that every power and every system is redeemable. Rather than a distinction between good and evil, perhaps it is one between the already and the not yet. “Nothing”, Wink claims, “is outside the redemptive care and transforming love of God.” You see, redemption is not just a personal gift to us, but, a gift to the world. It is an invitation to every aspect of this world to abide in God, to live in a way that is different, to live in a third way.

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does God in the midst of unbelief mean for you?
  3. How does unbelief affect your faith journey?
  4. What are some of our stumbling blocks to our faith?
  5. So, why do you stay?
  6. How would you depict that “third way”?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

Christians are people who, because we know something about the end, the final purposes of God, heaven, we don’t “settle in”. We keep up a holy restiveness. We keep moving, keep standing on tiptoes, expectant, because we have been offered a vision of a new heaven and a new earth where God at last gets what God wants. (Bishop William Willimon)

 

Human beings may separate things into as many piles as we wish—separating spirit from flesh, sacred from secular, church from world. But we should not be surprised when God does not recognize the distinctions we make between the two. Earth is so thick with divine possibility that it is a wonder we can walk anywhere without cracking our shins on altars. (Barbara Brown Taylor in An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith, p. 15.)

 

Good and evil, then, cannot be a pair of opposites like right and left or above and beneath. “Good” is the movement in the direction of home, “evil” is the aimless whirl of human potentialities without which nothing can be achieved and by which, if they take no direction but remain trapped in themselves, everything goes awry. (Martin Buber)

 

 

Closing

 

To see Thee is the end and the beginning, Thou carriest us, and Thou dost go before,

Thou are the journey, and the Journey’s end. Amen.

(Boethius, c. 480-524)