Christ the King Sermon: Homeward Bound

Christ the King Sunday: Luke 23:33-43

Homeward Bound

Pr. Paul Cannon

Grace and peace Bethany Lutheran Church!

Our gospel reading today, sort of reminds me of when, as a camp counselor, we used to heat the sauna up to like 200-250 degrees (don't try this at home), and then sprint down the hill and jump off the docks into the frigid, recently thawed, waters of Lake Vermilion in northern Minnesota.   

As we plunged into the ice bath, the shock of the temperature change would literally make you see stars. Not that sauna’s and lake jumps have anything at all to do with the text, except to say that reading about the passion of Jesus Christ in November, strangely feels like jumping into frigid waters as we prepare for the warm fuzzy feelings of the holidays.

Today is Christ the King Sunday, and it’s a day where our lectionary – the three year cycle of Bible readings – gives us this out of place text about Jesus being crucified next to two criminals.  It’s like we all fell asleep and woke up in April, just in time to celebrate Lent and Easter (sorry kids, you missed Christmas this year).  It’s the church calendar equivalent of doing a sauna lake jump. You shouldn’t jump into a Minnesota lake in May, just like you shouldn’t jump into the passion narrative in November – especially not right before Thanksgiving and Advent … but here we go.

I will say however that the readings for the day (from Jeremiah and Luke) are appropriate in this sense – that they are about that very human longing to be home, and how God goes about bringing his people – bringing us – home.  

But in order to understand this, you need to know a bit of the history of the Jewish people.  It’s a history of a people and a country constantly being invaded by larger empires because of it’s important location as a trade route between Europe, Middle East and Egypt.  First, the Assyrians conquer Israel around 700 BCE and then it was the Babylonians around 600 BCE and finally it was the Romans around 60 BCE.  And when the Assyrians and the Babylonians conquer Israel, they don’t just conquer it – they exile thousands of Jews.  They force them out of the cities and homes they lived in to resettle in Babylon and Persia.

As you can imagine, many Jews were desperate to return home, but they were powerless to do so.  And around this time, the prophets started writing about their future homecoming.  They started writing about how God would deliver them from exile in a foreign nation.  And they prophesied that a leader would rise up from amongst the Jews to lead them home.

Jeremiah was one such prophet.  So he writes about the sheep who have been scattered all over the land, and God the Shepherd, promising to gather his people together.  Jeremiah writes, “Then I (God) will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply.” I will gather them and I will bring them back.  Those became powerful words to a people longing for a homecoming.

Many Jews began to expect a King from the line of David to rise up and

save them, but really they were looking for more than a king. What they wanted was a hero – a messiah, a chosen one who would gather the flock of Israel from across the world – so they could be one big happy family again.  

Of course, if the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays teach us anything, it’s that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Everybody misses their family until they are elbow to elbow for eight hours in a small kitchen with them. You go home for Thanksgiving, and pretty soon, your sister starts to boss you around like you’re ten, you’re fighting for legroom sitting next to your brother in the back of the suburban even though you’re both almost 30 years old, and a pie gets burnt in the oven and somehow that’s your fault even though you followed the instructions EXACTLY! Am I right? The Holidays can be stressful, but then by the time you leave you’re hugging each other saying “Let’s do it again next year!”

And though I say that jokingly, the desire to be with family - the desire to be home – is usually strong enough to bring us back, year after year.  There’s just something irreplaceable about being with your loved ones.  I often miss home. My family is scattered throughout the Midwest and California, and then most of my other relatives are in North Dakota and South Carolina.  Home with family is one of the few places can count on being loved despite your flaws.

I’m sure you have your own stories about missing your home – missing your family.  To that degree, we can understand a little bit about how the Jewish people felt – what it feels like to be hundreds of miles from your loved ones, from your friends and relatives.  The Jewish people were searching for a hero to come and bring them back to the land of their birth.  They wanted a homecoming.

500 years later, in comes Jesus.  And this time, it’s the Romans (not the Babylonians) who are in control of Jerusalem.  And though many Jews returned home from exile by this time, there’s still a deep longing to restore Jerusalem to the way it used to be – to restore their homeland to Jewish control.  

And that’s why the Jews welcome Jesus to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday like a King.  They throw branches down in a path to make way for his arrival because they think he’s come to restore their home.  They want a king who can raise an army and take back their country, from the Romans, but as we know, Jesus is not that kind of King. He’s not Ceasar.  He’s not a conqueror.  He’s not the guy who is going to restore Jerusalem to Jewish control.

When the Jewish leaders discover that Jesus isn’t going to be their political instrument of power, they send him away to be crucified – to die next to criminals.  And the Romans, are too happy to oblige them.  Jesus is tried by Pontius Pilate, and convicted, and sentenced to die a very public execution.

“This is the King of the Jews” were the words inscribed above him on the cross.  They were written there so the world could see what happens to would-be king usurpers.  Of course, there is irony in that statement.  Jesus was a King, but he was a different kind of King, just like the cross was a different kind of throne. 

And that’s exactly the point, isn't it? The cross tells us what kind of King Jesus is and isn’t. He is not a king of political power.  He’s not a king of violence. So what is he? I think that our gospel writer is making the claim that Jesus is indeed, the Messiah, the chosen one prophesied by Jeremiah and Isaiah, to bring his people home. Only it’s not the home that they imagined it would be.

In our gospel story, Jesus is crucified next to two criminals.  One turns to Jesus, half mocking, half pleading and says, “Are you not the Messiah?  Save yourself and us!”  If you know the history, you can hear the irony.  The Messiah was supposed to come as a King to bring his people home.  The Messiah was supposed to come and deliver the people from their oppressors – not die by their hands.

But the other criminal sees only an innocent man dying next to him, so he rebukes the other saying, “This man is innocent of any crime and WE, we are getting what we deserve!” Then he turns to Jesus, pleading with him, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  Remember me, when you get home.

This is a statement from a criminal who had lost his way and knew he was a long way from home. This criminal is the prodigal son returning home, back into the loving arms of God, back to into a relationship with Jesus.  And what this criminal recognizes, that nobody else (even the disciples) recognize, is that Jesus true home was with God.

Jesus’ was going home – to his kingdom. Now do you see it?  The messiah had indeed come to bring his people home – only it wasn’t what everybody was expecting.  It wasn’t a place.  It wasn’t a country.  It was a relationship.

You probably already understand what that means.  When we say we are going “home for the holidays” most of us don’t mean we’re going back to the house we were raised in.  If you’re like me, it doesn’t even mean that you’re going back to the state you were raised in.  It means you’re going to be with family.  Home isn’t being at the place you live – it’s being with the people you love.

So Jesus responds to the criminal “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”  Today, you will be with me. Today, you are coming home. 

The beauty of this story is that it totally reinvents all of our expectations for God.  Where many of the Jews were looking for a King to bring them into political power, the cross is a place where the King opens his arms and welcomes his people home.  The cross is the place where God welcomes the lost and they wayward.  The cross is the place where God gathers his scattered sheep.  

Home becomes more than a location.  It’s a family gathering.  Flaws and all!

And in the end, I think that is what we are all really longing for – a place to be loved, a place to be accepted, a place to call home.  I think we find this home in the loving arms of Jesus on the cross.

So this Thanksgiving, no matter where you are, no matter what you’ve done, no matter if you are alone or with 100 people, I pray you know, that with Christ, you always have a home.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Christ the King Sunday: November 20, 2011

Christ the King Sunday: November 20, 2011
Matthew 25:31-46
Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

My dear people, today is a very important day. As of today, it’s only five days until Thanksgiving, six days until Black Friday, seven days until Advent, and only 35 days until Christmas! In fact, considering the time crunch you are all under, I am grateful to see so many of you in the pews today.

I’m especially grateful to see you because today is also an important day in the church. Today is Christ the King Sunday, otherwise known as the last Sunday of the church year. Next week begins a new church year and the Advent season, when we will begin awaiting with joyful anticipation the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Admittedly, Christ the King isn’t one of our most familiar Christian observances. As far as I can tell, Hallmark hasn’t discovered it yet! And there are those who wonder if Christ the King Sunday has outlived its usefulness, given the fact that most of us have never lived under a king’s rule. Celebrating Jesus as a monarch on a throne seems out of step with our more sophisticated, democratic way of life.

But then again, there is a certain wisdom in celebrating the kingship of Christ at this particular time of year.

Why? Because especially at this time of year, as we enter the holiday season, there are many powers and principalities at work which threaten to become kings in our lives.

First and foremost, King Christmas has reclaimed its throne this week. Everywhere we look, we see signs of King Christmas and its kingdom. King Christmas and Christ the King are not one and the same! Christ the King is our good shepherd and the prince of peace. King Christmas demands that we find good deals on gifts, plan a delicious meal, compete in the neighborhood decoration contest, travel in sketchy weather to see friends and family, and smile while we are doing it! As if our lives were not stressful enough, now the achievement of a perfectly cooked, beautifully wrapped, well-designed, warm and fuzzy Christmas has so much authority over us that we’re already stressed about the holidays on November 20th—and it’s not even Advent, my friends! And we still have 5 days until Thanksgiving…which is good, since I haven’t been to the grocery store yet.

On this Christ the King Sunday, when we honor the kingship of Christ in our lives, it is good and right to examine our lives and take inventory of the other so-called authorities demanding our attention and obedience.

King Christmas is just one of many. A list of other false monarchs could include King Economy, Queen Politics, Prince Achievement and Princess Tradition, also known as “Princess We’ve Never Done it That Way Before.”

And then, there’s King Football.

The authority of football has been all over the news for two weeks—and unfortunately the talk hasn’t been about the upcoming holiday football games. “King Football” is at the heart of the recent Penn State sexual abuse scandal. This scandal has shocked us, and makes us ask how such a terrible thing could happen in one of the most revered football programs in the country. Discussing this very question, National Public Radio featured an interview last week with Dave Ridpath, a professor of sports administration at Ohio University, who says the current scandal at Penn State is the most extreme example of a college sports system that protects teams at all costs.

Ridpath told the NPR interviewer: “…to be clear, this is possibly the worst scandal that I've heard of in college athletics and it takes a lot to shock me when I talk about college sports. But what I will say is it shows the lengths that very smart, very distinguished people, the lengths that they will go to to protect King Football, to protect the brand, to protect the image, to protect highly-paid coaches is immense.

And when you think that smart administrators - and these are smart people at Penn State - would act in this way when confronted with the safety of children…is almost mind-boggling.”

To be sure, it was just one disturbed individual who committed these crimes against children, but it was “King Football” who kept good people—smart administrators and well-loved coaches—from speaking out when young boys were being abused. Indeed, it seems that like dutiful subjects of the king, a number of good people went to great lengths to protect the football program, the university’s reputation, and their own positions within the kingdom. This is the power of a king over us: a king requires that above all else, we protect him and his interests.

And this is where our Gospel text for today, from the 25th chapter of Matthew, intersects with this news story. For it is in this Gospel passage that we meet a different kind of king: a king who is indeed powerful, and who expects our obedience—but whose interests and priorities surprise us.

Matthew 25 is sometimes called “The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats”, and at first, it seems an odd choice for Christ the King Sunday. The passage starts out all right in verse 31with familiar “kingly” language: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.” This is what we expect when we imagine a king: a throne, and some glory, and maybe even a choir of angels for good measure!

But then this passage from Matthew seems to go off the rails a bit, with all its talk of sheep and goats and the “least of these.”

Christ the King, sitting on his throne of glory, goes about separating his flock into sheep and goats. The sheep, at his right hand, he commends for having provided him with food and drink, welcoming him, giving him clothing, visiting him in prison and healing him when he was sick. And the sheep said, “Who, us? What have we done for you lately?”

Next, the king reprimands the goats at his left hand, pointing out that they had NOT given him food or drink, not welcomed him, not visited him in prison, not clothed him, and not healed him when he was sick. And the goats said, “Who, us? What have we NOT done for you lately?”
And the king’s answer is the same to both the sheep and the goats: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”…or, to the goats, “Truly I tell you, just as you did NOT do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

And there it is. This one phrase from Matthew 25 gives us a true image of the kingship of Christ. We expect a king to be powerful. We might even expect him to act as judge. But we don’t expect a king to speak up for the “least of these”. We certainly don’t expect the king on the throne to identify himself with the little ones—to be present among us as the hungry, the poor, the sick, the weak, and the imprisoned. We, like the both the sheep and the goats, do not look for him there.

And yet this is exactly the kind of king we have in Christ Jesus: one who empties himself, who takes the form of a slave, who eats with sinners, who touches lepers, who welcomes tax collectors, and speaks truth to power. We serve a king who was born in a stable and who leads not from a throne, but from the streets, from the cross, and from the empty tomb!

Christ is our King—and as king of our lives, he rightfully demands that we protect his interests. But what we learn in Matthew 25 is that Jesus’ interests are the interests of the poor. We learn that Jesus’ priorities are the priorities of the hungry. Jesus’ realm is the realm of the naked and the sick, the imprisoned and the outcast. Jesus is for the least of these, wherever we may find them. Therefore if we want to serve Christ, we will serve the least of these among us.

On this Christ the King Sunday, this Gospel passage invites us to examine our lives and consider: who is king of our lives? If we were witness to the kind of abuse that took place at Penn State, whose kingdom would we protect? Whose interests would be our priority? Would we speak up for the least among us, the powerless boys in the locker room shower? Or would we go to great lengths to protect King Football?

Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.” Let us go forth into this holiday season, into our workplaces and schools, our shopping malls and our homes, and proclaim the kingship of Christ. Let it be known to all that the king we serve is the king of love and the prince of peace, He is lord of lords, king of kings, and son of the most high! On the last day, he will be sitting on his throne of glory, with all the angels around him and all the nations gathered before him. But in the meantime, if you want to meet him, he is at PADS, at the WIC office, on the streets, in line at the immigration office, in prison, and by the side of every single abused child.

What a mighty…and lowly…God we serve.