Sunday, November 25, 2012

Yes to the King



Notes for a sermon preached (without notes) on November 25, 2012  at the Family Service of St. David’s Episcopal Church, Washington, DC
Proper 29: Daniel 7:9-10; 13-14, Revelation 1:4-8, and John 18:33-37

What type of stories begins with the words “Once upon a time?”  [Fairy Tales]
And who are some of the main types of characters in fairy tales? [witches, dragons, princesses ....]
I was thinking of princes, princesses, kings and queens! So are they all just fairy tale figures?[no]
Well no, kings and queens, at least not for me. After all I come from a country called the United Kingdom, and I am a proud “subject” of her majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
And it seems that a king is not just fairy tale figures for the church either, as today we celebrate the feast of Christ the King.

Now some people have a problem with this particular festival and in some church calendars it gets renamed – for example as the “Reign of Christ” - to avoid the use of the word King. There those who find the metaphor of Christ the King inappropriate for churches in the United States of America as the USA is a republic with an elected head of state and was founded in a rebellion against a king. Others have a general problem with what they feel ‘king’ stands for. Historically kings could be tyrants and oppressive; they lived in huge palaces while many of their people lived in poverty, and they used force to defend and expand their kingdoms.

But while there are good reasons to have a problem with the words and the concept of Lord and King, I think one reason for the problem is a misunderstanding of what the terms Lord, King, and Kingdom meant for Christ and mean for us as Christians. I also think it’s partially based on an unwillingness to accept any really absolute authority over us, anything that might impact our individual rights and freedoms.

So how should we understand the idea of Christ the King? In most gospels that word king does not occur until it is used by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, when he questions Jesus after his arrest. Pilate’s questions show that even in Jesus’ day, the nature of his kingship was misunderstood.  Are you the King of the Jews, Pilate asks? At that time there was no such king; Rome had not allowed King Herod’s successors to bear that title. So what Pilate really wants to know is whether Jesus is claiming this political title in opposition to Rome, as a national liberator, and would be worldly ruler.

When Jesus replies we learn that it his kingdom is “not from this world.” Nor will it any way be initiated or defended by force: “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over.” In Greek the “followers” are actually quite literally ‘armed attendants’ – it’s the same word used for the temple police: The ones who had just arrested Jesus the night before. So Jesus is not only making clear that his kingdom is different, his followers are too. He neither wants, nor needs an army. Then finally when Pilate again asks him directly: ‘So you are a king?’ We learn one more important aspect about Jesus’ kingship: ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ Jesus came not to rule, but to witness to the truth of God’s love. Those who accept this truth are obedient to Jesus Christ as a king, a king of truth.  

I really want to emphasize that we have a choice: we choose whether we want to belong to the truth. We choose to believe and in doing so we choose to accept an absolute higher authority, one we “swear allegiance” to at Baptism, when we become citizens of the kingdom, and every Sunday in the Creed when we reaffirm this choice. The image of a King, albeit one without the usual trappings, is still a good one because Christ is not like a President we elect and potentially change every four years, the choice we make is for life and beyond. The image of King is therefore a reminder that we have accepted a higher authority and that we have agreed to put our King’s values, the truth Christ came into the world to testify to, over those of this world, even over our country, our party, and our individual goals. That’s not easy as all of us, myself included, are much more used to the reverse order, to one in which we put ourselves first. 

So let us say yes to Christ the King, to a King who, while not a fairy tale figure, is not of this world, who is not a tyrant, and whose kingdom does not rely on force. Christ as King stands for the truths of love, justice, mutual service, and forgiveness. And our King, Christ, invites us, to become citizens of his kingdom, and to witness to and live out these same truths.
Amen

Christ our only King



Sermon preached on November 25, 2012 (@ 8.00 and 11.15 am) at St. David’s Episcopal Church, Washington, DC
Proper 29: Daniel 7:9-10; 13-14, Revelation 1:4-8, and John 18:33-37

Both my children tell me that I would have made a good history teacher, I haven’t worked out yet whether that is meant as a compliment. Now is an opportunity to try out this role, at least for some of the sermon. Today we celebrate the feast of Christ the King, or as it is sometimes also called, the Reign of Christ and I want to tell you some of its history. This is not an ancient feast. It was originally instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925 in response to the growing nationalism and secularism of his day – Fascism and Communism were the two big trends of the 1920s. Pope Pius wanted to remind Christians that their primary allegiance was to their spiritual ruler in heaven, and not to some pretty ugly earthly rulers like Mussolini. In 1969 another Pope, Paul VI, moved it to its current date: The last Sunday in the liturgical year, before our new year begins with the First Sunday in Advent. You won’t find this feast in our 1979 BCP but over the last 20 years most Anglican churches have adopted it as a major feast and in the Church of England’s latest prayer book, Common Worship, it is one of the “red letter days.”

I get the feeling however, that a lot of Episcopalians have come to regret the decision to adopt this festival. As I said earlier some calendars rename it – for example as the reign of Christ - to avoid the use of the word King. There are some very good reasons for this.  Some find the metaphor of Christ the King inappropriate for churches in the United States of America. This country is a republic, you elect your head of state and don’t have a hereditary monarch, your national identity is even bound up in the fact that you rebelled against a king. As a UK national and proud “subject” of her majesty Queen Elizabeth II I don’t have a problem with a monarchy, but I can understand the problems some Americans might have. Though just as an aside – elected leaders can be oppressive too!

Others go beyond just this particular Holy Day and are generally reluctant to use "lord" and "king" for Christ or to talk of “God’s kingdom.” Lord and king not only stand for something oppressive, they are also exclusively male. So in the newer prayer books of other denominations and in our alternative liturgies we find “God be with you”  instead of “the Lord be with you,”  the “word of the Lord” after the lessons and the gospel announcement “The Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ” are replaced by “Hear what the Spirit is saying” and “The Holy Gospel of our Savior” and instead of the “peace of the Lord” it is the “peace of Christ” that we exchange with one another. None of these other terms are theologically or scripturally incorrect. I agree fully with the need to watch our use of language and make sure that it is inclusive. God is not male.

But are these the only reasons why so many people have a problem with the words and the concept of Lord and King? I don’t think so. I think there are two other more problematic ones.


  1. There is a misunderstanding of what these terms meant for Christ and mean for us as Christians and 
  2.  There is a reluctance to accept the higher authority words like ‘king’ and ‘lord’ stand for.   

So how should we understand the idea of Christ the King? Although Jesus frequently used the word kingdom – kingdom of God and kingdom of heaven – for the new state of life he came to institute, he never applied the word king to himself. In most gospels that word does not occur until it is used by Pilate when he questions Jesus after his arrest. Only in John’s Gospel is the word used a little earlier in the story of the feeding of 5000. Right after that episode we read that “when Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” (John 6:15) Clearly Jesus did not want to be a king on their terms, nor have anything to do with a reign instituted by force. Even then the nature of his kingship was misunderstood. The crowd wanted a national liberator, a political and earthly king. And Pontius Pilate has the same wrong idea. Are you the King of the Jews, he asks? At that time there was no such king; Rome had not allowed King Herod’s successors to bear that title. So what Pilate wants to know is whether Jesus is claiming this political title in opposition to Rome and as a national liberator.

Jesus doesn’t reply and by asking Pilate a question instead, he demonstrates that he does not accept the authority of this earthly ruler! And when Jesus gets round to defining and describing his kingdom we learn that it is “not from this world.” Nor will it any way be initiated or defended by force: “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over.” The followers are actually quite literally ‘armed attendants’ – it’s the same word used for the temple police: The ones who had just arrested Jesus the night before. So Jesus is not only making clear that his kingdom is different, his followers are too. He neither wants, nor needs an army. Then finally when Pilate again asks him directly: ‘So you are a king?’ We learn one more important aspect about Jesus’ kingship: ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ Jesus came to witness to the truth of God’s love. Those who accept this truth are obedient to Jesus Christ as a king, a king of truth.  To sum up the message in this passage: Jesus’ kingship does not conform to worldly standards; it is a kingdom of peace and of truth: a very countercultural kingdom. Jesus says something similar in Mark’s Gospel (10:42-45) in a passage we heard just a month ago:
“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognized as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” This king or ruler is a very strange one indeed. His rule is defined by humility and service, and instead of using violence to obtain or maintain power, this king, our king, is willing to sacrifice himself for his subjects. Pope Pius made a similar point when he instituted this celebration: "'Christ,' he says, 'has dominion over all creatures, a dominion not seized by violence nor usurped, but his by essence and by nature.'"

That brings me to my second point. The passage from Daniel tells us, at least in the translation I prefer, that the Ancient of Days gave one like the Son of Man “dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.”
But many people, including many churchgoers, would rather not accept the absolute authority that goes with the word kingship. If we agree with the ideas, then sure, we’ll follow them, but only then. They are options, something to be considered. Neither God, nor Christ, is their ruler. We find this attitude all over the political and social spectrum. Many only accept the authority of the individual self, others might put their country, or their party first. It is far too easy and too common to substitute other allegiances or the pursuit of individual goals for the values Christ holds up for us, for the truth he came into the world to testify to. But as Christians we believe that Daniel’s vision has been realized in Jesus Christ, and that he is the one we are called to serve as king by choice. We choose to belong to the truth, we choose to believe and in doing so we choose to accept an absolute higher authority, one we “swear allegiance” to at Baptism, when we become citizens of his kingdom, and every Sunday in the Creed when we reaffirm this choice. That’s why the image of a King, albeit one without the usual trappings, is still a good one because Christ is not like a President we elect and can change every four years, the choice we make is for life and beyond.

So I really want to commend today’s Feast of Christ the King to you. I think Pope Pius’ intention to remind Christians that their primary allegiance was to their spiritual ruler in heaven is just as important now as in 1925. I want to appeal to you all to accept Christ as your King, a king who stands for the truths of love, justice, mutual service, and forgiveness and who invites us, to become citizens of his kingdom, and to witness to and live out these same truths.
Amen

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Widow's Example



Sermon preached on November 11, 2012 at St. David’s Episcopal Church, Washington, DC - Family Service
Proper 27: 1 Kings 17:8-16, Hebrews 9:24-28, and Mark 12:38-44

May these spoken words be faithful to the written word and lead us to the living word, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

On the surface this week’s reading from the Gospel according to Mark looks like a super text for a sermon on stewardship, which is what of course what NN (Rector) has been preaching about over the last weeks. Perhaps that should have been today instead? Not that I’m saying that his sermons were not good. 

Except on a second look … Jesus is praising the one who gives very little, just “two small copper coins, which are worth a penny” and not those who give much, those who are able to contribute out of abundance. And then we heard a warning about religious leaders in long robes, who have the best seats in church – right up front close to the altar and are greeted with respect in public, perhaps with a title like Rev.? That sounds like a warning not to give to the church, especially if all the leaders do is to “devour widow’s houses!” That does not sound like the basis for a good stewardship sermon, does it!

So what is going on here? Well, since Jesus arrived in Jerusalem (in chapter 11) he has had many difficult encounters with the religious establishment. First he upset them by driving the money changers and traders out of the temple, then they tried, unsuccessfully, to expose him as a heretic by asking a number of trick questions: where did his authority come from, should we pay taxes (sorry, yes), is there a resurrection, and which is the greatest commandment?

Having embarrassed and annoyed the Jewish leaders with his answers, Jesus now turns to their behavior, to the way they live out their faith. He is not impressed. Their aims are to be prominent, to be admired and respected, and to gain personal advantage. That’s certainly not what Jesus had been teaching. As we heard read a few weeks ago, his ideals were servanthood and humility, “whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35), and self-denial, “if any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves.” (Mark 8:34) Nor was it just Jesus’ teaching they were ignoring, but their own. According to Jewish law and tradition, orphans, strangers, and widows were to be protected and provided for, not exploited (Deuteronomy 10). Conspicuous piety: saying long and loud prayers and giving generously in public were not enough. You might remember the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:10-14), one boasting of his piety and generosity, the other humble and contrite. For Jesus it was the tax collector who went home justified.  

And in our story, if the widow is the positive example, what qualities does she exhibit that make her so?
-   Her humility: She didn’t make a big show of her giving. In fact she might even have been a bit embarrassed because it was so small. Her act of giving is so unobtrusive that only Jesus notices and calls to the disciples’ and our attention.
-   Her total trust: She gave all she had, just like the widow of Zarephath in the story from Kings. That widow had used her last handful of meal and her last drop of oil to make a cake for Elijah, her son, and herself. She trusted, as Elijah had promised, that God would provide, and God did: “the jar was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail.” In Mark’s gospel we don’t hear what happened to the widow after she had put her money in. But she certainly trusted that God would provide.
-   Her consistency: In her case there is no contradiction between her outward piety, her actions, and her inward surrender to God. Nothing is just for the sake of appearance.  
-   Her sacrificial attitude: She has given all she had to live on. I don’t think that it is a coincidence that this the last story before the Passion narrative starts. In Mark’s gospel this ends Jesus’ public ministry, after this he only speaks to the disciples until his arrest. So in some way the widow’s sacrifice is a prelude to Jesus’ sacrifice.

What does it mean for us today, is as always the key question?
-   Is St. David’s going to turn down “large sums that you want to put into our treasury” in future? Well no, as our treasurer Bruce will no doubt be glad to hear.
-   Do we expect you to give everything you have? No, we don’t want you to give all you have to live on.

But actually that last phrase, “she has put in … all she had to live on” would be better translated as “she has put in her whole life.” That may not be what St. David’s expects of you, but it is what God expects. We are not supposed to hold back part of ourselves because becoming and being a Christian is supposed to transform all of what we are.

Imitating Christ often seems a very tall order. But surely we are able to imitate the poor widow he holds up as an example in this passage? Her example calls us to humility in our dealings with others, to trust in God, to consistency in our behavior, and to a sacrificial giving of our time, talents, and treasure.
Amen