Christ the King Sunday
November 24, 2019
Jeremiah 23:1-6; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43
The
kingship of Christ tends to rub our American sensibilities the wrong way. Our
ancestors fought a way to get away from a king and set up a different kind of
government where power was shared and with a system of checks and balances.
We’re really not sure about kings today, unless they’re figureheads, like many
of the world’s remaining monarchs, or they’re the fathers of Disney princesses
like King Triton and…, well, how many Disney kings can you name? Even in
fairytale kingdoms, they’re still mostly figureheads. And I think that’s why we
have trouble relating to and understanding Jesus Christ as King. If he’s like
the kings of old, we’re not sure we want him to have all the power and none for
us. Or, if he’s a figurehead, he’s basically pretty useless and powerless. I
was reading this past week a book that suggested that part of why so many of
our churches are having trouble moving forward are because so many people who
claim to be Christian are actually functional atheists. The accusation stung,
especially this sentence: “Instead of believing in the manna that came from
God’s hand, the church learned to set its own table and provide its own feast.”[1]
As in, we think we have to produce all the resources (people, dollars, and
influence) in order to make ministry happen. We believe we have to provide it! That’s
functional atheism. It’s acting as if God doesn’t exist. As if God doesn’t
provide. As if God doesn’t give us enough.
The truth is God provided manna for the Israelites in the wilderness, enough
for each day, and God provides enough for us, too, our daily bread. Christ the
King is not a powerless figurehead. He is all-powerful, almighty – the
difference from the kings of history is that he doesn’t abuse his power. Instead
of using it to oppress people, he uses it to lift up the lowly.
Let’s
start with our Gospel lesson this morning. The place is Golgotha, which means
the Skull, also called Calvary. The scene is Jesus’ crucifixion. Jesus is hung
on the middle cross and there is a criminal hung on a cross on each side of
him. Jesus is mocked three times that this King of the Jews cannot save
himself. Because kings are supposed to be powerful, right? And yet this king’s
power is called into question, not just once but three times. What they don’t
know is that by not saving only
himself, this king can now save everyone.
But before he gets there, look closer at what King Jesus does right before he
dies. In Luke’s Gospel, this is Jesus’s last action before dying. He forgives. This is a King who forgives. First, he forgives those
who crucified him! On your death bed, and you forgive what’s causing you to
die. Some people do. Some people are at peace with it. “Father, forgive them,
for they do not know what they are doing.” They think they know what they’re doing. They think they’ve got this
troublemaker, this person who would dare to defy the Roman Empire, this
self-proclaimed blasphemer Son of God right where they want him. They don’t
know what they’re doing. And even in agony and pain from the nails in his hands
and his feet, because crucifixion is truly a painful way to die, Jesus forgives
them. That’s what kind of King he is.
But
he’s not just done there! Then there are these two actual criminals on each
side of him, who know that their actions deserve punishing. One man joins in
the mockery of Jesus’s power, “If you are who you say you are, if you are the
Messiah, the Savior” (can you hear
the sarcasm?), “then save yourself and us.” Before Jesus can respond, the other
man criticizes him, calls him out on his functional atheism, because the first
man does not truly believe that Jesus can save him. The second man points out
that the two of them are getting what they deserve whereas Jesus is not. Jesus
is innocent. And he says those beautiful words, “Jesus, remember me when you
come into your kingdom.” This second man is a believer, and he recognizes that
Jesus is the Christ, the Savior, the King. Jesus says yes, in effect forgiving this
man who’s on the cross next to him, whose sins needed forgiving. That’s the
kind of King Jesus is. He didn’t come for the do-gooders, for those who are
sinless. As Jesus says earlier in Luke’s Gospel, “It is not the healthy who need
a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to
repentance.”[2]
And he’s doing it even here, on the cross.
Another
description of that is found in our Colossians reading this morning. It said,
God “has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom
of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”[3]
God saved us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into Jesus’s kingdom.
It’s like that great verse from Isaiah that we read during Advent, “The people
walking in darkness have seen a great light.”[4]
We move from the kingdom of darkness and sin, where those things are in control
and have power, to Jesus’ kingdom of light and love and forgiveness, where
Jesus is King.
To
add in our Jeremiah reading, Jesus is “a king who will reign wisely and do what
is right and just.” Jesus is a King who gathers the flock, who seeks us out,
and invites us to come back to the fold. Come home. It’s like that old hymn,
“Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me; see on the
portals he’s watching and waiting, watching for you and for me. Come home, come
home; you who are weary, come home; earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
calling O sinner, come home!”[5]
That’s the kind of king Jesus is. He does not force you. He does not say my way
or the highway. He says, “This is the way that leads to life.” He says, “Follow
me if you believe God’s kingdom is at hand.” He says, “I want you with me, in
my kingdom. I like having you with me. You are important to me.” He says, “You
do not need to be afraid any longer. You do not need to run or hide any longer.
I love you.” This is the kind of king Jesus is: the kind who knows your name;
the kind who will leave his throne and personally come find you; the kind who
loves you no matter what and says there’s always a place for you at his table. This
is a different kind of king than the world has ever experienced.
This
is a king of love, as we sang in our middle hymn. And not only are we to feel
and know the security and comfort of this king’s love and forgiveness and
belonging, we are also to emulate this king. We are to love others as Jesus
loves us. We are to forgive others as we have been forgiven (that’s actually
part of the Lord’s Prayer!). We are to make space for others at our table. We
are not part of a clique or a country club, we’re the church! We’re a hospital
for sinners: you, me, everyone who walks through that door or turns down our
driveway. This should be a safe space, where you are not judged or critiqued
because of your sin or your looks or anything else! This should be a safe
space, where all feel welcome and heard and included and safe. That’s what it
means to share the love of Jesus. That’s what it means to be rooted in Christ,
rooted in Jesus’ love, in order to nurture our community from that unending
well of love. Christ the King isn’t a figurehead and we who bear his name as
Christian shouldn’t function as atheists. Our words and our actions should
proclaim Jesus as the Lord of our lives, Lord of our church, Lord of our
country, and Lord of our world! Too many of us, and I’m talking to you inside
these walls, not to those out there, too many of us here don’t live that way.
We think our actions are what save us. We think we need to go find other
resources than what God has already given us. Beloved, others aren’t going to
save us. That work has already been done, on a hill far away. Jesus could have
climbed down from the cross and saved only himself. Wouldn’t the people loved
to have seen that! Instead, he stayed so that all could be saved, so that all sins could be forgiven, so that all
might know how much God loves them.
As
you go forth this week, as you sit around Thanksgiving tables, add an extra
chair and place setting, so that you’re ready for one more. If you know someone
who may not have a table to join, invite them to yours. It’s better to have ten
invitations than zero. Remember, Jesus seeks out the lost and the lonely.
That’s part of the work he invites us to join him in. And in today’s world,
there are more lonely people than ever. I was talking with some of my clergy
colleagues who also serve this area and it was mentioned that while some people
move to this area to be alone, to live a little more secluded, to have more
space, one unintended consequence is that sometimes they then become more
lonely. Being alone can be good or bad or neutral. Being lonely means that you
want someone to notice you, to see you, to include you. The Beatles wrote
“Eleanor Rigby,” “look at all the lonely people,” over 50 years ago, and it’s
more true today than it was then. This week, seek someone out. Include someone.
Invite someone. Entertain angels unawares, as the book of Hebrews says of
welcoming strangers. And if you’re the one feeling lonely, this is my
invitation to you, call me. Come to my house for lunch today. Or let’s meet for
coffee or lunch next week.
The
other hymn I was thinking of while writing this sermon is the one called
“Freely, Freely.” It’s 389 in your red hymnal. I invite you to join me in
singing. “God forgave my sin in Jesus' name, I've been born again in Jesus'
name, And in Jesus' name I come to you, To share His love as He told me to. He
said freely, freely, You have received, Freely, freely give, Go in My name, And
because you believe, Others will know that I live. All pow'r is giv'n in Jesus'
name, In earth and heav'n in Jesus' name, And in Jesus' name I come to you, To
share His pow'r as He told me to. He said freely, freely, You have received,
Freely, freely give, Go in My name, And because you believe, Others will know
that I live.”
[1] Quietly Courageous: Leading the Church in a
Changing World by Gil Rendle, p. 77
[2]
Luke 5:31-32
[3]
Colossians 1:13-14
[4]
Isaiah 9:2
[5]
UMH 348
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