The Reign of Christ - How Will It Come?

         This Sunday ends our church year.  Next Sunday the season of Advent begins. We will move into the third year of our three year cycle of readings—Year C.  But for now we linger at the end of this year, celebrating that ending, but hoping for what may come.  We celebrate, because we trust that a triumphant Christ will come again to renew the earth and establish justice and righteousness.

         Each Sunday and perhaps each day we pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done. . . ” and “the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours.”  But each of us may hold a different image of what that may look like.

         The disciples James and John saw the reign of Jesus as an opportunity for honor and power.  In the 10^th chapter of Mark they ask: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”  And in the 20^th chapter of Matthew, their mother asks for them!

         Then sometimes it was not about power, but about redemption.  In the 23^rd chapter Luke reported this: one of the criminals crucified next to Jesus, humbly admitting his crimes, said: “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

         Our readings today reflect these two points of view.  Both Daniel and Revelation are biblical texts which depict visions of a magnificent revealing of God's power and majesty.  Whatever is evil will be vanquished.  Whatever is just and righteous will prevail!  Daniel wrote:  “To him [the one like a human being] was given [by the Ancient One] dominion and power and kingship, that all peoples, nations and languages should serve him . . . His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away.”

         The mystic John of Patmos wrote about the revelation he received in which he described Jesus Christ as “the ruler of the kings of the earth . . .[and] on whose account all the tribes of the earth will wail.”  As the “Alpha and the Omega,” Jesus Christ is the one “who is, and was and is to come, the Almighty.”

         Yet our gospel reading reports a much humbler, but perhaps more startling, image.  Jesus first deflected Pilate's interrogation, “Are you the King of the Jews?” but then he answered more directly. “My kingdom is not of this world . . . my kingdom is not from here.”  This puzzled Pilate, as it continues to puzzle us today.  When Pilate asked Jesus to clarify, Jesus said: “For this I was born and for this I came into the world to testify to the truth.”

         What is the truth to which Jesus testified?  What was the repentant criminal responding to when he asked to be remembered?

         One thing we can say about Jesus' truth is this: it can draw people closer to God.  Jesus responded to the thief, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.  To Pilate, Jesus explained further, “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

         I think we can also say, Jesus' truth points to a spirit of humility.  If we are listening to Jesus, like Mary of Bethany, we are placing Jesus at the center, focusing on his teaching, and seeking to obey him.

         So this view of Jesus' reign is clearly not about power, but about the truth that God through Jesus is reaching out to us in love, hoping we respond with humbleness.  We are listening.  We are asking to be held in God's loving and redeeming memory.

         I've presented these two ways to viewing our prayer for God's reign to come and God's will be done on earth as in heaven. Are we more comfortable with an everlasting dominion being established when all people—all—will serve the God we worship?  Or are we more comfortable with a kingdom which is “not from here”—in other words, not like the Roman Empire, nor the British Empire nor the empire of a superpower?  Do we have confidence, as Martin Luther King, Jr., explained it, that although the arc of history is long, it bends toward justice?  Do we believe we can experience security simply under the shadow of the Almighty's wing?

         I want to place Jesus at the center of my life, to trust that, despite my sins, he will remember and redeem me. But then I begin to wonder if the security that power appears to offer isn't the better way. To be right that Jesus will dominate the world and all its people with the divine power, to long for Christ's second coming in great glory and great power: often these seem to be the true route to security.

         And yet . . . again I ask, what sort of kingdom do we long for?  And what part do we hope to play in that kingdom?  Is it possible that the truth that we must listen to Jesus and follow him means his reign will unfold—not on some spectacular global scale—but rather in each of us—that we will find the reign of the risen Christ as we care for those in need in Christ's name—and that we simply must trust God to deal with the rest?  Is what we mean when we pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” that the reign of Christ will begin within each of us?  For me, on this day, that is what I hope.

The 24th Sunday after Pentecost - Making a Decision, Venturing Much

         Since today is Veterans' Day and tomorrow will be the federal holiday, I would like us to pray together for those who have served and those who are serving our country.  Please turn to page 839 of the prayerbook:

         O Judge of the nations, we remember before you with grateful hearts the men and women of our country who in the day of decision ventured much for the liberties we now enjoy.  Grant that we may not rest until all the people of this land share the benefits of true freedom and gladly accept its disciplines.  This we ask in the Name of Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

         In this prayer there is a short phrase that not only applies to those who have served our country, but also to those people in our scripture readings today.  That phrase, “in the day of decision ventured much,” may well apply at times in our own lives as well.

         The heroic tone, of course, comes from the idea that at a certain moment a choice is made that will change that follows, and this choice involves risk—possibly great risk.  The biblical stories we heard today tell us—and such times in our own lives also tell us—of an additional factor we must consider:  the content of the choice and the nature of the consequences.  When we speak of heroism or a heroic choice, we imply that the content of the choice and the effect of the action that follows support a virtuous cause.  

         There can be controversy over what virtuous heroic action is and what it is not.  When I think of this question, the image that comes to mind is Bishop George Packard, clad in his magenta cassock, climbing over a chain link fence to support the Occupy Wall Street movement.  That chain link fence closed off some property owned by Trinity Church - Wall Street, and the bishop was arrested for trespassing.  Trinity had allowed the protestors to use their facilities—bathrooms, in particular—but this particular piece of property the Wardens and Vestry had declared off-limits for some apparently valid legal reason.  Needless to say, some viewed the bishop's action as heroic; others saw it as outrageous.  And Bishop Packard chose to take this very public stance, when he might have been as effective, or more effective, working behind the scenes to pressure on Trinity’s Vestry to change its decision.  On the day of his decision he did venture much, but was he right to act as he did?

         That same question could be asked of the choice made in the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath from I Kings and story of the widow in the temple from Mark's gospel.  To look below the surface meaning of each story will lead us into a better understanding of what a “day of decision” might mean for us.

         Elijah decided to follow what he understood to be God's directive to approach a widow of Zarephath, a commercial capital of Phoenecia, to feed him.  The widow bravely decided, after some reluctance, to feed Elijah.  Their decisions were based on trust—Elijah trusting God and the widow trusting Elijah prophetic assurance that by feeding him she would not lack food for herself and her son.  But the most unexpected decision preceding both their decisions was God's decision to choose a “destitute, foreign, Baal-worshiping widow” to provide food for God's prophet, Elijah.

God's “day of decision” became a day of overturning expectations. Elijah had been on the run from King Ahab after predicting famine and drought due to the people's worshiping the fertility god, Baal. As he sought sustenance under these adverse conditions, he must have thought it odd that God should send him to such an outsider.

And as an “outsider,” the widow must have found Elijah’s request odd, too.  Why would such a prophet come to her?   “As the Lord your God lives . . .,” said the widow—indicating that Elijah's God wasn't hers.  So, as unlikely as it appears, these two decided to risk—to venture much— and found a sustaining alliance based on trust—a trust in a God who provided in a very unlikely way—a trust that overcame the differences between them.

         The widow in the gospel today made a decision to give away all she had to live on. She appears to venture much in making this gift.  How odd that a poor widow would give anything to support Temple worship!  Jesus made the point that the important religious officials were hypocrites who talked about following the Law, but who seemed to forget how the Law expected those who had plenty to care for the vulnerable who lacked what they need. Why would the widow part with all she had to live on—indeed venturing much—in hope that an unjust system led by hypocrites might aid her?

         We can only make sense of her sacrifice if we see it in the context of Jesus' choosing to sacrifice his life.  Jesus allowed the evil of an unjust system led by hypocrites to arrest and execute him.  In the Garden of Gethsemane he experienced a time of decision and chose to venture much, trusting that his sacrifice would be redeemed by God, the Father.  Jesus' showed his love for us—human beings who often act in unjust and hypocritical ways, who sin and are unworthy of his love.  He trusted—without knowing the outcome for certain—that he should venture much out of his steadfast love for us.

         That brave, though foolish, poor widow provides an even more radical model for sacrifice of the widow of Zarapheth.  She provides the same sort of model for us as Jesus did. To give without reserve in a way that we believe God is calling us to give.

         What circumstances in your own life have you been called to give—to decide to venture much—to give fully of yourself?  Perhaps caring for your children or grandchildren, perhaps caring for an ill relative, perhaps loving someone close to you who struggles to recover from an addiction— and you can name other situations.  Sometimes these situations just seem to descend into your life and threaten to overwhelm you.  But when you choose not to retreat from them, but to give whatever strength and trust you can muster, you are making a decision to venture much—and God, perhaps in very unexpected ways, will bless your choice. 

Quote about the widow of Zarepheth came from “New Proclamation, Year B 2012, Easter through Christ the King," p. 224.

The 23rd Sunday After Pentecost - To Be Reconciled Across a Chasm of Difference

At first glance you might not notice, but the account of Jesus and the scribe we heard from the Gospel of Mark this morning bears a striking resemblance to a political ad.  Really?  Oh, come on, you might say: it's about religious faith and practice, not politics.

We need to remember that the Roman Empire held all the real power, but within Judaism there were factions or “political parties” among the religious authorities. They challenged Jesus, and he answered them with cleverness and solid scriptural references, challenging them right back.  He taught with parables that put the religious authorities in  an unfavorable light.  And the gospel writers, including Mark, frequently gave the religious authorities very bad press.

But the authorities who challenged Jesus were not of one mind about religious matters.  For example, the Pharisees and the Sadducees had agendas they pushed and sought to influence others to support them.

 Mark, as a gospel writer, had an agenda as well.  Mark began his gospel this way:  “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  A few verses later he wrote about John the Baptizer ‘s point of view about who Jesus is: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me, I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.”

To recognize Jesus as the long awaited Messiah—despite the excitement his ministry generated—was a step too far for most of the Jewish religious authorities.  And here are some reasons why:  Prior to the reading we heard today from the 12^th chapter of Mark, the gospel writer relayed an account of Jesus telling the parable of the wicked tenants to “the chief priest, scribes and elders.”  In this parable Jesus suggested that his listeners were like the vineyard tenants who first killed messengers from the landowner and finally killed his son.  Jesus told them the landowner would come back, destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others. Mark reported that the religious authorities knew he was talking about them.

Then in the next two stories of the 12^th chapter Mark recounted how Jesus bested first the Pharisees and then the Sadducees in a verbal sparring matches.  He cleverly answered the Pharisees when they asked him whether one should pay taxes to the Romans.  Then he put down the Sadducees for not understanding scripture or the power of God when they asked him about whose wife a seven-time widow would be at the time of the general resurrection.

 So you see Mark has engaged in some very negative advertising, showing the religious authorities as just not “getting” Jesus.  In their prideful self-assurance the traps they set for Jesus did not spring shut, and Jesus easily put them in their place. But in the midst of this negativity and the negative accounts that followed, Mark depicted another sort of response to Jesus.

 I believe Mark did this to show that people's hearts and opinions can be changed.  People who did not acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah could come to believe in Jesus.  Mark does this by showing that a member of the very group whose authority Jesus challenged could come to recognize Jesus' possessed God's wisdom and God’s truth. For a moment Mark's negative campaign against the religious authorities stopped and a positive vignette pushed his agenda of showing Jesus as the Son of God.

What caused this scribe to open his mind and embrace different point of view?  Mark pointed out that the scribe had heard the disputes between Jesus and the religious authorities and thought Jesus answered them well.  So he decided to check out Jesus more closely.  Mark's report of their conversation showed a level of respect between the Jesus and the scribe developing.  One commentary on the passage states that their exchange “transcend[ed] party strife and cross[ed] the dividing line of hostility to confess a common faith.  Because they join[ed] together in the conviction that there is no commandment greater than love of God and love of neighbor, they [were] able to treat each other as neighbors. Both the scribe and Jesus . . . stepped away from the “us” versus “them” categories.  Their mutual affirmation is an island of reconciliation in a sea of hostility.”

On this coming Tuesday, if we do our duty as Christian citizens of our country, we will vote for the candidates we believe will make our best leaders.  Perhaps the candidates we vote for will win; perhaps not.  Nevertheless on Wednesday, we should consider well Mark's “ad” showing positive behavior across a chasm of political difference (in the case of Mark's gospel, religious politics).  Here the postive behavior Mark shows us:  Listen thoughtfully.  Step away from using “us” versus “them” categories.  And finally affirm what you and your opponent hold in common—in our case this week—thankfulness for the blessings we enjoy as citizens of this country.

 Like most of stories about Jesus in the gospels we do not know the final outcome; we do not know what happened to this scribe. He may have continued serving in his scribal duties; he may have become an Christian after Christ's resurrection.  But whatever happened later, in this one moment he and Jesus taught us positive, righteous behavior across a chasm of difference:  First, listen thoughtfully; then, step away from seeing the difference as an “us” versus “them” situation; and finally, affirm what you and your opponent hold in common.  Then—and only then can you—together—began to work out the details of the path forward.

May God's mercy and grace surround us as we vote and in the following days as we work on solving the problems all of us face together.

The quote was taken from the Interpreter's Bible commentary on the 12th chapter of Mark (p. 679).