Apocalypse

Christ the King B: Amen

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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.

All Saints B: A Vision of Home

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OLD TESTAMENT: Isaiah 25: 6-9

To read the passage from IsaiahHouse-On-The-Hill

This reading, which we also read on Easter Day, comes within the block of material (Isaiah 24-27) which many refer to as The Isaiah Apocalypse. The view of the future here is universal and speaks of God’s power in the cosmic realm as well as the earthly realm. It is probable that whoever wrote this material truly thought that the crucial event in world history was about to dawn. This material is probably dated about the last quarter of the 8th century BCE, probably late in the Babylonian exile or perhaps even after it was over.

All Saints’ Day is, of course, that Sunday that we set aside to remember those who have walked before us.  But with that, it is also a time to look ahead, to realize that we are all connected in an eternal chain of witnesses.  Our chapter in the story would not make sense without the chapters before us and the future is dependent on our chapter being well-written.

The text that we read envisions a significant role for Jerusalem, the city set on the mountain of the Lord. Here God will offer divine hospitality to all people. Both the food and the wine are described in superlative terms. Through this divine welcome, the shroud of destruction and horror will be lifted off all the peoples of the earth. Death itself will be swallowed up. The sadness of tears and the shame of disgrace of God’s people will be removed. These promises of restoration are the word of the Lord. The salvation of God and God’s hospitality can only lead to one thing: ‘let us rejoice and be glad’.

This Scripture is about waiting. It is looking forward to a different time. Keep in mind the context of this lesson. The people were in the wilderness. The Babylonians had swept in, had captured the Israelites, destroyed the temple of God, and scattered the people of God into the wilderness. In the wilderness, the people were asking that desperate question, “Where is God?” Many have lost their faith. There were desperate cries, desperate questions in the wilderness, and it was there in the despair and in the wilderness that God came to the people of Israel (but not in the way that they would have expected!). Never could they have predicted what they heard from Isaiah and would soon see. God was using Cyrus, king of Persia, to lay the groundwork for their return home. “I will give you the treasures of darkness,” says the Lord God. Cyrus, king of Persia, would capture the Babylonians. It was Cyrus that God was using, the king of Persia who didn’t even believe in God. Marduke was his god. Still, God was using this surprise to make it possible for the people of God scattered in the wilderness to return home, which they eventually did.

For us, too, it is a vision of home. All Saints’ Day is always full of some psychological and spiritual tensions as we walk between profound grief and joyful remembrance and between what is and what will be. But this passage tells us that death shall soon be no more, “swallowed up forever” as the text actually says, overtaken by life everlasting. It brings comfort but it also brings a bit of heartache. There is a part of us that wants that now, wants to be with those we love now. There’s a part of us that wishes that we had some means of understanding or overcoming what happens on this earth. We believe; we try hard; we try to patiently wait. And the storms continue to come. And yet, even waiting, is part of our faith journey. And in the waiting, we come to learn that life is there all along.

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What stands in the way of our waiting for God?
  3. What would your reaction to this vision have been in the context in which it was written?
  4. What is your reaction to this vision now?

  

NEW TESTAMENT: Revelation 21: 1-6a

To read the passage from Revelation

In spite of its veiled images and difficulties presented in interpretation, the Book of Revelation presents some beautiful depictions of hope and promise. Here, using Old Testament imagery (some borrowed from the Isaiah passage that we just read), we are presented with a veritable tapestry of hope. We are not just looking to the past; we are also looking ahead. And it is not some far off place to which we are looking, but to a time when the here and the now will be renewed. Notice that it is not just heaven that is renewed but the very earth itself. All that we see and know and all in which we have our being will be and is being recreated before our very eyes.

And all this happens because of God. Finally, God will make the divine dwelling place among us. Do you remember that cloud that followed the Israelites around, the sign of God’s Presence? The Ark of the Covenant symbolized this sort of removed image of God actually dwelling with the people. Then in the Gospel of John, we are told in very similar language that God lived among us in Christ. And the story of the Festival of Pentecost is the sign of continued Divine Presence. But here…this passage takes it even further. God will be fully with us. God, the Creator, the Divine Presence, will now dwell with mortals. And God’s very Presence will be enough to wipe away tears and mourning, banish death for good, and make everything new.

The writer of this Revelation passage finishes with the most amazing thing. “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.” There will finally be established the truth which has been peeking out at us since the very dawn of human history—that God, indeed, stands before, in, and after all of Creation. It is a metaphorical glimpse at the end of the story as we know it and, yet, it is the very beginning of life to come. This reading gives us a glimpse of what the author thought that might look like.

What a great Scripture to read for All Saints’! At the same time that we are remembering and perhaps still grieving those who are gone, we are given this reminder of what’s to come. It is an affirmation that this story that began when God breathed life into Creation is not quite finished. And we are part of it, part of the ongoing conversation that began long before we got here and will continue long after we are gone.

The point is that the past and the future connect us all. I think that’s what the Scripture is reminding us—not that there is some promised land out there where we all come out OK, but, rather that we are part of it now. We, like those that came before us, are part of building that future city, building the Kingdom of God in its fullness. The story is not yet finished, but it’s definitely worth the read!

  1. How does this passage speak to you?
  2. How does this speak to you within the context of All Saints’ Day?
  3. What does the idea of our connection to the past and the future mean for you?

GOSPEL: John 11: 32-44

To read the Gospel passage

In this week’s Gospel lesson, a man dies and is restored to life, sisters complain and weep, and the crowd comments, weeps and complains. Front and center, however, is Jesus. He is really the focal point of the story, not Lazarus. He determines what will happen. He says, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” So it is with our own understanding of life and death. People weep and commiserate. They wonder what happens next, to them and to the one who has gone ahead. But Jesus, the author and finisher of faith, the way, the truth and the life, is the focal point at the moment of death. He says, “Peace be with you.” Jesus is the assurance that there is always something more. When we have Jesus, we are prepared for anything that follows.

For many, this is one of those odd, somewhat problematic texts. After all, people don’t usually get up and walk out of tombs into the land of the living. This story challenges norms and even reality, to some extent. Perhaps that is the point. Perhaps it sort of jolts us into the realization that God is capable of more, that God will go beyond what we plan, what we think, even what we imagine. And yet, “Jesus wept.” In the older translations, it is supposedly the shortest verse in the Bible. Jesus’ tears remind us that grief is real and that God realizes that and truly cares what happens to us.

Ironically, this is the act that would ultimately cost Jesus his life. Bringing Lazarus to life would end his own. After this, the Sanhedrin’s step in and the journey to Jerusalem, mock trial and all, escalates. There is no turning back. Perhaps it should be our turn to weep. But we are given a new hope and a new promise. Jesus said, “Unbind him, and let him go.”…He will do the same for us. “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

The truth is, on some level, we are all lifeless at times. We are all bound by things in this world that literally suck the life out of us. Think about it. This is also an account of the raising of Martha and Mary and all of those who loved Lazarus, raised out of grief to hope and life. And, for us, Christ is there breathing life into us yet again. We are always in the process of and actually becoming a new creation. The story of this raising is more than a miracle; it is the stuff that we are made of. Jesus probably weeps for us too—weeps that we hurt, weeps that we get so wrapped up in the minutia of life that makes us forget who we are, weeps that we are not who we are called to be. This is a story about the in-between. Some things don’t make sense. Some things don’t go like we plan. Some things we just miss. Creation groans towards its ultimate promise. And so we wait…But in the meantime, we can always get up, come out of our tomb, and let Jesus free us once again. Fred Craddock said that faith is first generation (From “A Twofold Death and Resurrection”, The Christian Century, available at http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=710). In other words, we do not inherit it. Oh, maybe we inherit a knowledge of it or the culture to rely on it, but this belief thing has to be ours. For that is the way that we see the glory of God for ourselves.

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does this say about faith?
  3. Where do you find yourself in this story?
  4. From what lifelessness do we need to be freed by Christ’s lifegiving breath?
  5. What do you think of the notion of faith being “first generation”?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

Joy is the most infallible sense of the presence of God. (Teilhard de Chardin)

Let us plant dates even though those who plant them will never eat them. We must live by the love of what we will never see…. Such disciplined love is what has given prophets, revolutionaries, and saints the courage to die for the future they envisaged. They make their own bodies the seed of their highest hope. (Rubem Alves quoted in There Is A Season by Joan Chittister).

The note we end on is and must be the note of inexhaustible possibility and hope. (Evelyn Underhill)

 

 

Closing

 

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart. May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace. May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war so that you may reach out my hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy. And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that, through your love, you can make a difference in this world so that you can do what others claim cannot be done. Amen. (Franciscan Prayer, Author Unknown)