Sermon - Christ the King Sunday

Luke 23:33-43

Christ - Our King

            The sign which hung over Jesus' head read, "This is the King of the Jews."  If you are partial to the Gospel of John, you will remem­ber that the chief priests argued with Pilate over this inscription.  They wanted Pilate to re-write the sign so it would read:  "This man said, I am the King of the Jews."  They disputed the wording, but their suggestion would have been even more incorrect.  The sign, which no one wanted, hung there (over Jesus' head) with the words:  This is the King.

            Jesus didn't look very much like a king, hanging there on that cross.  There had been no great and climatic battle during which this "king" had been taken into captivity.  Jesus had none of the external trappings of a king.  The scriptures say they cast lots for his cloth­ing - a tunic and some undergarments.  He had no robes of purple or crowns with jewels which one would expect of a "king."  As he hung there on that cross, Jesus did not carry himself with a royal air.  Instead, he suffered; he ex­pressed anguish; he cried out, asking to be re­lieved of his pain.  This man was so bound to the agony of human existence it is difficult for us to think of him as "king". 

            The sign that hung above his head read, "This is the King."  But on that day, Jesus was no one's king.  What he was – was the servant of God.  And in his role as servant he was dying.  Dying on a cross.  Dying so that we might have life.

            It is always surprising, when we find ourselves confronted with the distinction between the historical Jesus (the man who died on the cross) and the Christ of the church (the "King" whom we worship).  We find ourselves becoming startled as we begin to review the differ­ences between Jesus' message and ministry - and many of the traditions, doctrines and beliefs which developed as the Church took form.  There is a difference between the way Jesus carried himself and the role he begins to take on in the developing traditions of organized religion.

            Christ the King Sunday is an opportunity to acknowledge this distinction.  On Christ the King Sunday we boldly profess Christ as our King.  Yet, the lessons which were carefully selected for this day remind us that it was no king who hung upon the cross at Golgotha.  The biblical record and the traditions of the church stand juxtaposed on this day.  And from where we sit we can begin to see where the one ends and the other begins.

            The historical Jesus, the man who walked the streets of ancient Israel seemed reluctant to think of himself as one with any titles.  He does speak of the Kingdom of God as being very near to those with whom he ministers.  He promises the thief hanging on the cross, "today you will be with me in Paradise;” he refers to himself as the way, the truth and the life; but only the woman at the well is allowed to directly associate Jesus with titles such as "Messiah." 

            We will never know what Jesus "thought," but we do know he acted in such a way as to downplay any association between himself and titles of power or dominance.  In John 18.36, Jesus insists, "My kingdom is not from this world."  Whatever he might have "known," Jesus does not seek - even among his disciples - recog­nition as "king."

            Jesus came with a simpler (or might I say purer) purpose in mind.  Jesus came to pro­claim the Good News of God's favor.  Earlier in Luke's gospel, just as Jesus is beginning his public ministry, he returns to Nazareth.  He goes to the temple and stands up to read.  They hand to him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.  He unrolls the scroll and finds the place where it is written:  "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."  The scripture tells us that he rolled up the scroll, sat down, and when all eyes were fixed upon him, he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."  (Luke 4.18-21)

            It is debatable whether Jesus had a notion of himself as "King."  What is clear is that Jesus understood it to be his purpose to remind Israel of God's favor.  Jesus did not embrace titles like "King," or "Lord," or even "good."  He rejected them, insist­ing that glory be given to God.  Jesus would not allow his disci­ples to defend him or to defend his honor.  He was only concerned that the message of God's salvation be preached to all who had ears to hear.

            There is that interesting little story, earlier in the same chapter as our lesson for today, in which Jesus is before Herod.  Luke 23.8 says Herod was very glad, for he had been wanting to see (Jesus) for some time, because he had heard about him and was hoping to see (Jesus) perform some sign.  This passage hints that had Jesus displayed even a bit of his kingly power, he might have been spared execution.  But Jesus will have none of this.  His purpose was to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.   He would have nothing to do with stage tricks.  Such displays of power or authority had no place in what he had come to do.

            Jesus is so single minded in his commitment to care for others that he will do nothing to preserve himself.  Jesus will die rather than abandon his mission of setting free those who are held captive.  He is the servant.  He is the one who is hung upon the cross for others. 

            This is the witness of scripture to the man whom we know as Jesus.

            After he died, his followers began to look for titles which would adequately reflect the way they felt about this man.  It was in that search that the language of "king" began to emerge.  Jesus did not come to lord himself over us, but we willingly enlisted as faithful subjects.  We bind ourselves to him, no less committed than any devotee to their king. 

            The introduction of “Christ the King Sunday” does not happen until 1925.  It was first instituted by Pope Pious XI.  Most historians agree Pope Pious did this as an attempt to counter the rise of nationalism.  The rise of nationalism is sometimes identified as the cause of World War I.  To make sure his purpose was heard among those whom Pious thought to be the gravest of transgressors, Pious selected the day of observance as the last Sunday in October.  While Norwegians and Swedes and Danes already had something akin to a national day of observance on the last Sunday of October, the Germans were sure to realize that Christ the King Sunday would trample all over their observances of Reformation Sunday. 

            Who is your “King”?  To what do you give your strongest allegiance?  Is it the state/church structure which has supported so many of our cultural identities (and prejudices)?  Or is it the crucified servant of God?

            The Germans didn’t take well to this.  We did soon find ourselves in World War II. 

            Christ the King Sunday has nothing to do with God demanding that all the world fall on its face and acknowledge him as Lord and Master.  Christ the King Sunday is our opportunity to affirm our belief that in this Jesus of Nazareth we have seen the way which leads to salvation, and that “way” is the way of a servant.  It is living our lives in service to the least, to the helpless, to the outcast, to the lost.

            The problem with titles is that as soon as you start to use them, they begin to take on a life of their own.  We hear the title "Christ the King," and rather than allowing the association of "Christ" with "King" to call into question everything we previously associated with kings, we begin to think of Jesus as just another guy with a lot of power and an over-grown ego.  The humble master whom we enlist as our King is lost to the notion of yet another powerful and authoritarian ruler. 

            Christ the King is the final Sunday of the church year.  Next week, when you come into this place, we will be starting all over again with a brand new year.  During this new year, make yourself a resolution to listen attentively to what Jesus is saying; to give attention to what the Church teaches; and then to ultimately decide whether this man has anything to say to you.  Are you prepared, will you be willing to give to him the title of "King?"   And if you are, are you willing to follow his way.  His is not the way of power and dominion.  His is the way of service and sacrifice.

Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 23 - Year C

Luke 21:5-19                                                    

Signs of the End

Every now and then, we have to stop and admit that there is more to this Christianity business than any of us would like to acknowledge.  There are aspects which we had just as soon avoid all together.  Within scripture, there are messages we had rather not hear.  That's fine, because the only thing more unpleasant than hearing these "teachings" is having to preach them.  My heart sank as I realized that so soon after having begun to serve as your interim pastor I would be called to preach on these verses from Luke 21.

Beware that you are not lead astray...when you hear of wars and insurrections ...they will arrest you and persecute you...You will be betrayed even by par­ents and brothers, by relatives and friends;  and they will put some of you to death.

Unpleasant teachings; difficult lessons; painful writings.  Yet they are as much a part of our Gospel as is the story of Jesus' resurrection.  They are written as clearly as is his promise to bind up the broken hearted and restore the downtrodden.  Jesus tells his followers, “You will be hated by all because of my name.”

These words, spoken by Jesus, come as he is about to end his earthly ministry.  The time is drawing neigh when he will be delivered into the hands of the chief priests.  He knows that if there is anything he hasn't told the disciples, he must do it soon, else it will be too late.  And so he begins to speak to them all sorts of warnings.  The few warnings read this morning are but the beginning.  He goes on to tell them that all of Jerusalem will suffer destruction.  He tells them there will be cos­mic signs as the Son of Man makes his return. 

And, he tells them, unless they are prepared, they will not share in his glory.

I can see why Jesus would leave this part of his teaching off to the very end.  It isn’t ex­actly the kind of thing that one would put on a recruitment brochure.  Jesus waits as long as he possibly can, and when he can wait no longer, he tells them.  Time is drawing short.  They must ready themselves.  Jesus must tell them now.

We know, from our vantage point, that the things of which Jesus spoke did happen.  Jerusalem was destroyed.  Wars in Israel began shortly after the death of Jesus and have con­tinued right up to our day.  The disciples were pursued, imprisoned and even executed because of their faithfulness.  Jesus' words rang true in the lives of those who heard him.

Given our vantage point, we can read these lessons as some sort of an introductory history lesson.  Or, we might look upon these passages as reinforcement for the notion of Jesus as a prophe­t, as one who could see into the future and predict what was going to happen.  This section of Luke’s gospel might serve the purpose of allowing us to deepen our appreciation for Jesus’ ability to read the times and predict the future.  But reading these words for such reasons alone is not enough.  This passage isn’t read in order that we might know what happened back then.  Nor is it included so that we might think more highly of Jesus.  These words were not written solely for the original twelve disciples - they were written for you and me.  Just like the earliest disciples, we need to hear the warnings and acknowledge that Jesus is also calling us to a journey that isn’t all roses and comforts.  Wars and pest­ilence, famine and persecution, betrayal and death - these are ours as well.

Too often, we suffer from an illusion.  We think that times have changed and that being a disciple is no longer a dangerous thing.  We believe that we can profess our faith and not fear persecution.  But it is an illusion.  Bearing testimony always results in being threatened.  Following the way of Jesus will put us out of step with the world around us.  Being passively out of step is generally tolerated, but when the disciples of Jesus begin to speak the message of the one to whom they have given their lives the toleration turns to vilification and rejection and sometimes death.

I would lift up Martin Luther King, Jr.  Or Pope John XXIII.  Or former President Jimmy Carter.  If you have not read the life history of Former Senator Paul Simon I encourage you to do so.  Same needs to be said for the Baptist preacher who brought the world’s attention to Hell’s Kitchen, NYC – Walter Rausenbusch.  I don’t know that his life is seen as one of undue suffering, but the witness of Greenville native Bishop William Willimon should be familiar to all of us living in this zip code.  Among his writing is “Who Lynched Willie Earl?”

The Church’s message is firmly rooted in the simple and unwavering acknowledgement that Jesus loves us.  The depth of that love is revealed in Jesus’ willingness to sacrifice his own life rather than allow oppression and self-advancement.  The followers of Jesus have the assurance that God is with us and that God is protecting us.  That oversight on the part of God is particularly important when we see the need to question abuse and exploitation and neglect.  When we faithfully live out the gospel message – God will protect us.

Look a little further down in this morning's lesson.  Jesus says, “You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives ­and friends; and they will put some of you to death.   You will be hated by all because of my name.  BUT NOT A HAIR OF YOUR HEAD WILL PERISH.  By your endurance you will gain your souls."

Bearing witness to Christ is painful.  It is lonely, but it is the only way we can ever hope to obtain the gift of God which Jesus calls life.

Our call to faith may not be as dramatic as others, but it will represent an opportunity to be criticized and condemned.  Our call to faithfulness may lead us to take positions or to articulate arguments that go against the mainstream of our culture and climate. 

Jesus warns those who follow him that doing so will cost them.  They will not be happy; they cannot be content.  But they will be alive.  Not a hair on their heads will perish.

Premature death comes to many.  It happens when one realizes that purpose and direction and intent are lacking.  Premature death is frightening and produces great worry and anxiety. It happens in far too many, simply because they have listened to the words of Jesus but never made them active in their lives.

The words of Luke 21 are difficult to hear and to preach. But as the twelve say in another location, these are the words of eternal life.  Resurrection begins the moment we worry less about our standing in society and among our neighbors and stand firmly for the Word of God.  When this happens, not even the hair on our heads can be threatened.

                                                                         Amen.

Sermon - All Saints' Sunday

                                       JUST WHO ARE THOSE SAINTS ANYWAY?

The children's sermon has already given you a hint as to lesson I want to leave with you this morning.  But just in case I was talking too softly or you didn't quite understand - the question for us on this All Saints' Sunday is:  "Just who are the saints of the church?"  Because what we want to do today is honor all of the saints, not just some of them.  On this Sunday we remember the saints of old, we recognize the saints who have recently died, and we want to encourage the saints who are struggling to become comfortable with the title.

On this day we honor all of the saints, not just some of them.  That is why the name is written in the plural possessive.

All Saints' Sunday is a day dedicated to St. Peter, St. Anne, St. John, St. Tecla, and St. Matthew.  It is also a day dedicated to Sts. Faye Moss, Katherine Ruff, Thurl Amick, Larry Clark, and Ralph Mellom.  But as we celebrate the gifts of these saints, we also want to say a few words about Sts. Howard and Cynthia, Sts. Honnalorie and Richard.

If nothing else is remembered from today's worship, I hope you will remember that on All Saints' Sunday it’s not nearly so important that we remember those to whom statues and memorials are erected.  The essential thing is recognizing and honoring those who still struggle to become comfortable with the title:  saints like you and me.

Regardless of the role one makes of saints in their own spiritual life, most folks have grown to be quite comfortable with the first group of saints.  This group consists of the heralded saints of old, the men and women you think of as Saints of the Church:  Matthew, Mark, Mary, Lydia, Peter, Paul.  We paint portraits of them and hang them in honor­able places.  We use them for lessons in Sunday Church School.  We stamp their images onto medals and wear them around our necks.   While each saint in the church has his or her own day of observance during the liturgical year, on All Saints' Day we honor them as a group, acknowledging, as a whole, their contribu­tion to the life of the Church.

In American religious experience, saints have sometimes gotten a lot of bad press.  Contrary to what some Protestants are told, it is not true that Roman Catholics and Orthodox churches "worship the saints."  Saints are an aid to worship - no less than repeat­ing The Apos­tles' Creed or praying the Our Father.  While there are differ­ences between the official teach­ing of the church and the prac­tice of one's indi­vidual piety, it is not true that venera­tion of the saints is "worship of the saints".  It is veneration, adora­tion, the establishing of a beneficial relation­ship.  There are some who have over-emphasized the roll of the saints, but we should never allow this to form our full opinion or prevent us from learning from those who call upon the saints in their prayer life.

The relationships between living Christians and departed saints began quite innocently.  A member of the congregation would go to their pastor and ask the pastor to pray for them.  If there were particular concerns of great importance the pastor would ask other pastors to share in this process of offering prayers.  They prayed hard and diligent­ly.  Somewhere in the process, someone asked, “What are the saints, already in heaven, doing with their time?"  The answer had to be that they are praying too, but what do they pray for?  They must be praying that God's will be done on earth.  So..... why not ask them to join us in our prayers for that particular concern which is weighing heavy on our hearts?  Good idea!

As time passed, a particular saint came to be preferred.  If there was a saint who shared some earthly characteristic with me, it seemed natural to ask that saint to pray for me.  Saints who were miners become the one whom miners ask to pray for them.  Saints who were doctors are asked by other doctors to pray on their behalf.  It was from this preference among the saints that patron saints begin to emerge.

Calling upon the saint in prayer had nothing to do with any notion that these saints had the power to save, they were simply in a good position to offer prayers on behalf of those still working out their salvation on earth.

How many times have you asked someone to pray for you?  In so doing, you were doing nothing different than those millions upon millions of believers who stand before the statue of a beloved saint, asking her to pray on their behalf.  They are asking her to pray with them; enlisting their aid as they lift their concerns before God.

The second group of saints we want to honor on All Saint’s Sunday is also rather obvious.  These are the persons within the Church who have died in the current liturgical year.  On All Saints' Sunday we make it a point to remember the members of our parish and community who have served as examples and models for us.  We remember those who have died in the faith. 

The list of names printed in our bulletin represent those who have had a profound impact upon our pilgrimage of faith.  We list their names as a way of remem­bering the Saints who have nurtured us in the faith, those who have served the church, those whom it has been our privilege to know and to love.  We remember them as saints, as those who have now experienced in full the resurrection of Christ.

This group of saints is very important to us.  They are the saints who have had the most direct impact upon our lives.  In many cases, they are the ones without whom we would never have come to have faith.  There is no greater witness to the saving power of God's Word than those who live by it.  We look to their witness and from that witness we see how we should live.

Which brings us to our third group of saints: The saints of today.  This is the group of saints who are most often over­looked, too seldom consulted, rarely even noticed.  These saints are you and me.  We are the saints of the church present.

"Sainthood" is not limited to those who are venerated with their own day on the liturgical calendar.  "Sainthood" is not a title conferred only upon those who make a tremendous sacrifice or do some unimaginable deed.  Sainthood is the name given to all those who live in the reality of God's forgiveness.  The pastor who guided my home congregation during my formative years was a man named Aaron Lippard.  Pastor Lippard defined a saint as a “forgiven sinner.”  He ­insisted that Saint be the title of recog­nition given to all those who struggle to live their lives in faithfulness to God.

Great leaders are wonderful for the life of the church; we couldn't get along without them.  But they do nothing unless they inspire the masses.  Of what good would Martin Luther's reform have been if it did not reach out to those who were in the pews?  In reality, one of the reasons Luther began his reform was his frustration with those in leadership.  He saw that the leaders of the church were living cloistered lives, cut off from the peas­ants and having very little interaction, let alone impact, on the vast membership of the Church.  The bishops were inaccessible.  The priests were locked securely in their monasteries.  And the teachers spent their time in private study.

Luther's reform had the effect of getting the saints out of the church and into the world.  His intention was to illustrate that Christian faith, if it was to be true to its roots, must be a lived faith and not a field of study.  Unless the leaders of the church took seriously the responsibility of educating the members and assisting them in living the faith - they were not doing the will of God.

The task of all the saints is to proclaim through word and deed the saving message of Christ.

All Saints' Sunday is our day.  It is our day to celebrate the wonderful gifts we have received from saints of old and the saints of recent years.  It is also a day for us to recognize our status as saints, to see ourselves as forgiven sinners upon whom Christ's church now depends.

You and I are the saints of today.  When future generations call upon the name of Christ they will do so because our witness has inspired them.  When future temples are built and statues erected, it will be a result of our faithfulness, our praying on behalf of those who are struggling to understand themselves as chosen by God.

On this festival of "All Saints'", I pray that you will remember those who have inspired you, those who have loved you.  But I hope you will give more attention to those with whom it is your good fortune to share the love and acceptance of Christ.  As Saints of Christ, this is our role, this is our duty, and this is our honor.

Amen.