Last Sunday After Pentecost
(Christ the King)
Proper 29, Year C, RCL
November 25, 2007
All Saints’, Bentonville
Gospel:
When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots to divide his clothing. The people stood by, watching Jesus on the cross; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!" The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!" There was also an inscription over him, "This is the King of the Jews."
One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." He replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
Welcome to the feast of Christ the King. I was wondering what our worship should really look like today – what would be a appropriate manner in which to commemorate not just this feast day, but the name sake of this congregation. I thought it might be appropriate to have the Northwest Arkansas Brass Quintet process in with their trumpets blaring. I imagined a thurifer proudly swinging his incense-packed thurible, causing smoke to rise to the majestic heights of this nave. I envisioned a royal procession of alb clad acolytes, wielding the cross and torches and streamers – all in celebration of Christ the King.
And then I remembered that this is the Sunday after Thanksgiving and the crowd is likely to be small, and even our collective budgets really doesn’t allow for a brass ensemble. Our tiny band of acolytes don’t own albs and our congregation doesn’t even know what a thurifer is. Besides if we processed in like that, even on the feast day of Christ the King, you would all be thinking – what are those Episcopalians up to now?
But it is really just as well. Because, you see, the King we worship isn’t your ordinary monarch. The trappings of power and majesty don’t really apply to the Jesus that we follow, to the Jesus of whom we just read - a King, who suffered the indignity of being nailed to a cross.
You see, we worship a different kind of King. Not a King as Jesus is depicted in the beautiful work of art above the altar. As splendid as this depiction of Jesus is -skillfully crafted of maple and copper and brass – head adorned with a crown. This is not the Jesus we read of today, nor the Jesus we follow. The Jesus we honor today comes not in triumph, but in humility – a Jesus hanging on a cross, sentenced to execution, just like any other common law breaker. The Jesus of the Feast of Christ the King isn’t dressed in fine silks and jewels, but is clothed in rags and suffering. If we are looking for a religion based on symbols of power and influence, we better start looking elsewhere. But if you are looking for a savior, someone who understands what it is like to be humiliated, beaten, and broken, Jesus is your man.
In the gospel reading this morning we heard he second criminal rebuke the first saying, “we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve…but this man has done nothing wrong.” In Matthew and Mark, we are told that these criminals are thieves, bandits. They had committed crimes against property and the Roman Empire. Most of us would argue that the punishment – execution on a cross was a harsh one for the crime of thievery, but they were clearly guilty of violating the laws of the empire – and the Romans dealt harshly with law breakers.
However, in this odd conversation among three convicted felons about the nature of justice, we have to accept that Jesus was every bit as guilty as the thieves that hung beside him. The aim of the Romans was to maintain order in all corners of the empire. Banditry, of course, couldn’t be tolerated. Respect for private property must be maintained at all costs. Keeping order was, in fact, the highest good because if rampant thievery were allowed, it would be far more difficult for the organized thievery of the Romans to take place – their extraction of tribute from the local economy. Petty thieves, those nibbling away at the spoils of victory that the Romans felt they deserved as conquerors of these Semitic peoples, were of little consequence for the larger economy, but the Romans weren’t noted for making subtleties of judgment. There was no reason for them to make fine distinctions among the degrees of guilt associated with criminal activity. It mattered not, to the Roman authorities, if you were a pick pocket, an illegal alien, or an insurgent, the brutal punishment of the cross was doled out to all.
Having said that, it is clear why Jesus deserved the center position in this triad of illegals. This man, Jesus, really was a threat to the stability of empire. It is hard to know just how seriously the Roman soldiers took this “would be King”. The inscription that hung above Jesus head read, “This is the King of the Jews.” And the tone seems mocking - lacking any genuine appreciation for the esteem Jesus’ followers held for him. His executioners probably didn’t realize just how much of a threat Jesus really was. It is true that his followers were to call him by names that must have been an affront to the Roman rulers: King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Son of God – and a term reserved for the Roman emperor himself, Son of Man – a tantalizingly ambiguous label, but still very threatening in it’s implications for the power structure.
You see the Romans feared that the admiration of the motley crew that was beginning to follow Jesus might give him the idea that he deserved the title that we give him today – Christ the King.
In fact, the Romans didn’t know just how much of a threat that Jesus was to the established order. They really weren’t listening very carefully to Jesus words. Their fear was that Jesus might want to set up the kind of kingdom that the Romans knew about. Move in with force, kill the guys in charge, replace them with their own lackeys, extract whatever resources from the land that they could, station troops in the area, and maintain discipline.
The royal appellations that whirled around Jesus were the designations that the Romans feared as a threat to the monarchy. What they should have feared was the Jesus more aptly described by the titles that his followers gave him later,” The Resurrection and the Life, the Door, the Living Water, the Light of the World. Had they been listening more carefully to what Jesus had been teaching his disciples about who he really was – they would have killed him much sooner.
Because the kingdom of God that Jesus was talking about was much more of a threat to the established order than anything the Romans could have imagined. Jesus was about ushering in a Kingdom based on love. And love, practiced as Jesus taught it, is a real threat to the way the world goes about its business.
And I must tell you. It’s a threat to the way we operate as well.
Christ is the King of a Kingdom without want, with justice for everyone, with forgiveness for all. A Kingdom where the love of God knows no borders and no boundaries. A Kingdom where citizenship in an earthly empire is of no consequence. A Kingdom where all God’s children have a home, are fed, are loved. Where all have a place in the Body of Christ.
Each Sunday it is our privilege to share in this broken body – to approach this altar, not from a perch of success or triumph, but from a place of humility recognizing our own brokenness, recognizing in the broken body and blood of Christ, our own frailty and hunger for love and redemption. And that is what we are offered. The second criminal spoke of justice in human terms and knew that he was receiving what he deserved. In asking that he be remembered in Christ’s kingdom the criminal recognized his own need for grace, a grace that transcends justice. And Jesus’ promise to the thief is the promise to us all, “Today, you will be with me in Paradise.”