Daniel 7.9-10, 13-14; Revelation 1.4b-8; John 18.33-37
+ For any of you who have known me for any period of time, you
know that, invariably, you will discover that I am very political person. I
have very strong political views. Which is something directly opposite of what
I was taught as a priest.
I was taught that, despite whatever a priest’s personal political
views may be, those views should not come into the pulpit. And, for the most
part, I have followed that rule.
I do believe, to a certain extent, that a priest should not be up
here sharing their personal political beliefs. Because not everyone in the pews
is of the same political view.
Yes, even here at St. Stephen’s, not everyone agrees politically. We
have people who cover the full spectrum of politics. And I love that. I love
that people who think Donald Trump is the greatest president ever can worship
with people who think Donald Trump is not.
I also believe a priest should not share their politics from the
pulpit because many people here came from churches and denominations that had
clergy who got up and not only shared their political views, but even went so
far as to tell people how they should vote. And that, to me, is an absolutely
terrible thing.
And just so no one would ever think that I would do that—and I
would NEVER do that—I purposely try to avoid politics as much as possible.
The exception for me is when a politician crosses the line and
starts advocating for things that oppose the Church or basic human rights or
human equality. And I have spoken out on
those issues. And will continue to do so
any time it happens.
But today, on this particular Sunday, we deal, somewhat indirectly,
with another kind of politics. Today, we recognize that no matter how terrible
or how great a leader may be, there is one leader for us, as Christians, who is
the ultimate Leader.
The King of Kings.
On one level, today, of course, is Christ the King Sunday. It is an important Sunday in the Church. Today
marks the End of one Church Year—Year B. Next Sunday will be the First Sunday of Advent
and Church Year C begins. So, it’s kind
of like New Year’s, almost a month early.
You can just kind of feel it. Something is just…happening, at
least from our scripture readings. Advent, that time of preparation for
Christmas, is about to happen.
The Season of Advent is, of course, the season of anticipation—of
longing. And dare I say, maybe a fair
share of healthy impatience.
Maybe that’s why I like it so much. I am an impatient person—as
anyone who has worked with me for any period of time knows. Certainly, we, as followers of Jesus, might
get a bit impatient about that for which we are longing. Our journey as followers of Jesus, is filled
with anticipation and longing.
We know, as we make this journey through life, that there is an
end to our journey. We know there is a
goal. But we might not always be aware
of what that goal is or even why we’re journeying toward it.
But today, Christ the King Sunday, we get just a little glimpse of
that goal. We get to get an idea of what it is we are anticipating. We get a glimpse of the THE END of the story.
We are invited, on this Sunday, to see this King—this ultimate
Ruler—coming to us on clouds, and on wheels of burning fire. I, for one, love the drama and the splendor of
such an image.
In our readings today—especially our readings from the Prophet
Daniel and Revelation, we too, with Daniel and the Apostle John, get a glimpse
of what it is we are hoping for, what we are striving for. We see a glimpse of the One we, as Christians,
recognize as Christ—that Alpha and Omega—that Beginning and End—that Anointed One
who is seated at the right hand of God and who is coming to us on the clouds.
But the Christ we see in our own collective vision this morning is
not the humble carpenter, the amazing miracle worker, or the innocent newborn
baby we are anticipating in a month’s time. The Christ we encounter today is the
traditional Cosmic Christ—this Christ who is limitless, who is all-powerful,
who transcends time and place. This
Christ is there at God’s side, the One God has sent to us as ruler, who has
come to us as God’s spoken Word. The
Christ we encounter this morning is coming to us on clouds, yes, but he also
comes to us while standing on the throne of the Cross—an about-to-be condemned
criminal—engaging in a conversation with Pontius Pilate about who he is. The Christ we encounter today is crowned,
yes—but he is crowned with thorns.
This message of Christ the King, Christ the Ruler is never more
meaningful for us right now, in our own country, with a nation divided over its
leaders.
And there IS division, sadly enough. I am hearing it from both
sides of the issue. We are seeing our
families divided over politics. We are seeing friends who are avoiding and separating
themselves from each other. There has
been much fear-mongering in the air.
And, as we know, fear-mongering is not an option for us as Christians.
FEAR is not an option for as a Christians.
This King we celebrate today—this King crowned as he is with a
crown of thorns—he is the Ruler of all of us, no matter who the rulers on earth
may be. And because he is our ruler, in him whatever divisions—especially political
divisions—there are between are eliminated. After
all, he too lived in a world of terror and fear, in a world of division, where
fear and terror were daily realities in his life.
This is the Christ we encounter as well today. The Christ we encounter today is Christ our
King, Christ our Priest, Christ our ultimate Ideal. But he is also so much more
than that.
He is also the one that some would also judge as Christ the Rebel,
Christ the Misfit, Christ the Refugee, Christ the Failure. And what the Rebel, the Misfit, the Refugee,
the Failure shows us powerfully is that God even works through such
manifestations. God works through rebellion, through being ostracized, through
failure even. And this is a very real
part of our message on Christ the King Sunday.
In the midst of the brokenness of Christ, God is ultimately truly victorious.
And because of what God does in Christ we too, even despite our own brokenness,
despite our own rebelliousness, despite
our own failures, we too will ultimately triumph in Christ.
The King we encounter on this Sunday, the King that awaits us at
the end of our days, is not a despotic king. The King that we encounter today is not a King
who rules with an iron fist and makes life under his reign oppressive. This King is not some stern Judge, waiting to
condemn us to hell for what we’ve done or not done or for who we are.
But at the same time the King we honor today is not a figurehead
or a soft and ineffective ruler. Rather,
the King we encounter today is truly the One we are following, the One who
leads us and guides us and guards us. This
King does not allow us to have fear as an option in our lives. This King eliminates our divisions. The King we encounter today is the refugee,
the misfit, the rebel, the outcast, the marginalized one, who has triumphed and
who commands us to welcome and love all those who are marginalized and living
with terror and fear in their own lives.
And his Kingdom, that we anticipate, is our ultimate home. We are all—all of us, every single one of us,
no matter who we are—, at this moment, we are citizens of that Kingdom of God,
over which God has put the anointed One, the Christ. That Kingdom is the place wherein each of us belongs,
ultimately.
You have heard me say it in many, many sermons that our job as
Christians, as followers of Jesus, is to make that Kingdom a reality. You hear me often talking about the Kingdom
breaking through into our midst. That’s
not just poetic talk from the pulpit. It
is something I believe in deeply.
The Kingdom—that place toward which we are all headed—is not only
some far-off Land in some far-away sky we will eventually get to when we die. It is a reality—right here, right now. That Kingdom is the place which breaks into
this world whenever we live out that command of Jesus to love God and to love
one another.
When we act in love toward one another, the Kingdom of God is
present among us. Again, this is not some difficult theological concept to
grasp. It is simply something we do as
followers of Jesus. When we love, God’s
true home is made here, with us, in the midst of our love. A kingdom of harmony and peace and love becomes
a reality when we sow seeds of harmony and peace and love. And, in that moment when the Kingdom breaks
through to us, here and now, we get to see what awaits us in our personal and
collective End.
As we prepare for this END—and we should always be preparing for
the END—we should rejoice in this King, who is the ruler of our true home. And we should rejoice in the fact that, in the
end, all of us will be received by that King into that Kingdom he promises to
us, that we catch glimpses of, here in this place, when we act and serve each
other out of love for one another. The Kingdom is here, with us, right now. It is here, in the love we share and in the
ministries we do.
So, on this Christ the King Sunday, let us ponder the End, but let
us remember that the End is not a terrible thing. The End is, in fact, that very Kingdom that we
have seen in our midst already. For us
the End is that Kingdom—a Kingdom wherein there is a King who rules out of love
and concern for us.
“I am the Alpha—the beginning—and the Omega—the End,” Jesus is
saying to us.
But in our End, we truly do find our beginning.
“To [God] be glory and dominion forever and ever.” Amen.
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