Not THAT Kind of King

Pilate can’t figure it out. We tend to default to earthly models of a king. What exactly does Jesus mean when he says “king?” And how shall we live into that today?

John 18:33-37

³³Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” ³⁴Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” ³⁵Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” ³⁶Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” ³⁷Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Dear friends in Christ, grace to you and peace from our loving God, through Christ who is not the king we might imagine.  Amen.

This is a festival day whose texts AND origins are laced with political intrigue, subtext, and rebellion.

This is not a day in the church year that has even been on the calendar for a hundred years yet.  It was instituted in 1925 by Pope Pius XI , to counter what he regarded as the destructive forces of the modern world: secularism in the west and the rise of communism in Russia and fascism in Italy and Spain, harbingers of the Nazism soon to seize Germany.

Pope Pius intended that the rule of Christ would oppose the totalitarian claims of these ideologies. By intention or coincidence, the festival of Christ the King also landed on the last Sunday in October, coinciding (or competing) with the Protestant celebration of the Reformation.

After the Second Vatican Council, the festival of Christ the King was moved to the last Sunday of the church year. So, no more “Counter-Reformation Day” celebration. But the new location proved to be more than an ecumenical gesture.

Placed at the end of the church year, with its traditional emphasis on eschatology – which is seeing the future of God’s reign from where we stand – the festival now proclaimed Christ as “the goal of human history, the focal point of the desires of history and civilization, the center of humankind, the joy of all hearts, and the fulfillment of all aspirations” – in short, a positive reconstruction of the festival’s original polemic against political ideologies.  Or, perhaps, a revolutionary seizing of the moment to stand even more over against said political ideologies.

So what does this day mean – if anything – for us today?

Jesus’ interrogation by Pilate is a rather interesting study from the perspective of the law.  Far from a disinterested third party, Pilate has a lot on the line here.  He is only in Jerusalem because the Jewish Passover feast is approaching, and the Romans are concerned that the Jewish people might “try something.”  When Jesus was entering Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, Pilate was entering another gate in a chariot with an entourage.  Making a big show so that everyone knew the Romans were onto any kind of uprising that might be planned.

His worst fears are beginning to be realized by this guy who has been accused of calling himself “King of the Jews.”

And yet, who threatens whom?  Both Rome and the Jewish authorities felt threatened by Jesus and the movement he had generated.  Rather than join his movement, they sought to shut down his.  And Jesus does not respond to Pilate’s questions as one threatened.  He explains it thus:

If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.

This makes so much sense, when we consider how we are called by God through Christ to love the world.

Were God’s kingdom – God’s peaceable realm – something that sprang up from this world, then of course there would be conflict.  Of course Jesus’ followers would have already stormed the city of Jerusalem.

But both then and now, what is happening can be summed up by the phrase, “when worlds collide.”

On the one hand is this world.  This world of structures and power and people and things and places, all of which are seen as instruments of control or things to be controlled.  Conflict is inevitable.  Might makes right is the word on the street.

On the other hand, though, is the reign of God.  It is something that is almost indescribable, other than it stands over against any system or structure that would cause hurt or harm to anything.  In God’s peaceable realm, we are not arguing about who is best or first because we are all beloved of God.  God is on God’s throne, Jesus sits at God’s right hand, and the Holy Spirit never stops moving between us.

In 1925, Pope Pius XI saw the forces of evil beginning to gather on the horizon, and used his position as pope to remind Catholics of Christ’s reign in their lives.

He was not the first person to do so, and certainly not the last.  I would like to think that his intentions were honorable, unlike so many religious charlatans of the last several years, but the Vatican’s weak complicity with the Axis powers of WWII undid Pius’ best hopes.

Much of our world today bears many of the marks of centuries past.

The rise of Christian nationalism – a dangerous and heretical conflation of identities to the detriment of both – reminds us of the atrocities committed in the name of “Christianity” during the Crusades and the Inquisition.  I’ve mentioned before that the jury is still out on whether Constantine’s conversion, and the subsequent legitimizing of Christianity as the religion of the empire, was actually good.

The intersection of pop culture and Christianity that has brought us everything from Christian radio to Christian bookstores to Christian anything else commercial you could imagine – might call to mind those moneychangers in the temple.

Is Jesus’ kingdom (same as God’s kingdom) actually NOT of this world if those who claim his name and saving grace are inextricably intertwined with other kingdoms?

This is the challenge of this life.  We are called to be in this world, while not of it.

And honestly, we could spend all our time either splitting hairs or counting angels dancing on the heads of pins if we default to the legalistic side of this quandary.

Rather, what God calls us to is living our lives in authenticity.  Not falling prey to whatever trend is coming down the road.  Remembering that whatever it is that we do, God calls us to act within the realm of understanding what really matters.

Because the triune God – Jesus, God, Holy Spirit – is the center of our lives.  And if we are honest, we know that we will encounter plenty of situations where we must make a choice as to what is truly the center of our lives.

Our lessons today remind us that it is Christ – God’s love made visible – Emmanuel – God with us – who is that center.

As St Paul reminds us, there is nothing whatsoever in all of creation that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Nothing we say or do can sever that love.

And that is an assurance that gives us freedom to ask “what would Jesus do” and live fully into the answer, even if it shocks us to our core.

Because God will never, ever leave us.  And that is because God is GOD.  Not an earthly ruler whose favor shifts from moment to moment.  But a cosmic, eternal ruler who completely upends the whole idea of “ruler” across the board.

Through that amazing grace, that amazing love, God seeks to give us the strength to be God’s hands and feet in this world.

To be God’s love made visible in as many ways as possible.

Even when empires stand against us.

Because it is not the love of the empire that sustains us.

It is the love of God.

The love that holds us close, even beyond our last earthly breath, into God’s eternal embrace.

Let us live, and love, and serve – in that deep and eternal love.  Amen.

For All the Saints

Meditations on what has become my favorite festival day in the church year. I am grateful to Dr. Kathryn M. Schifferdecker of Luther Seminary whose column this week was formative and which I paraphrase towards the end.

John 11:32-44

³²When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

³³When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. ³⁴He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” ³⁵Jesus began to weep. ³⁶So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” ³⁷But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” ³⁸Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. ³⁹Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” ⁴⁰Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” ⁴¹So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. ⁴²I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” ⁴³When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” ⁴⁴The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

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Dear beloved saints and children of God, grace to you and peace from God through Christ, whose love for us is both boundless and forever.  Amen.

At the risk of stating the obvious – it’s been a rough couple of years.

If we are to really hear the good news in these sacred stories today, we must first acknowledge the loss we have all sustained – not only as Shepherd of the Hills, but as a society and as humanity.

We have lost too many of our own beloved saints.

Over 750,000 Americans have died from COVID-19.  And worldwide, that number is over 5 million.

As Jesus wept over Lazarus, he weeps over these as well.

A report from the US Fish and Wildlife Service dated September 30^th of this year lists 23 species of mammals, birds, fish, and plants that are now considered extinct and should be removed from the Endangered Species List.

Surely God weeps over the loss of these, God’s own creations, as much as God weeps as Jesus at Lazarus’ grave.

And yes, last year on All Saints Day we were already beginning to see the devastation that COVID would wreak.  But we weren’t able to gather in person at all, and if there’s one thing that is meant for community, it’s grief.

So many of you have mentioned to me how difficult it’s been when funerals aren’t possible, when graveside services are limited, when to gather for a lunch afterwards would be incredibly risky.  For those are the times when our grief is truly shared; the weight of our burden made a bit lighter by those who help us carry it.

Even as we’ve been able to gather in person for worship again, we’re not yet at 100%.  This pandemic continues, sad to say.  And so part of our grief is also at being separated from friends and family, both here at Shepherd and at greater distances.

These stories, from three different eras, recount God’s hearing our cries and sharing our grief.  Would they have the impact they do if we had never suffered a loss?  Do they hold even more impact this year, as we have collectively been through a lifetime’s worth of sorrow?

And at the same time – do we see ourselves saying Martha’s and Mary’s words: “Lord, if you had been here…!”  The subtext of which is, of course, “Lord, why weren’t you here?”

Death really is the great equalizer.  In this passage from Isaiah, death is the shroud, the sheet covering all people.  It is much more the enemy than any of the ancient powerful armies of Egypt or Assyria.

Death has swallowed up many, many lives in the last two years.  It is the shroud covering all peoples.  If you have felt physically weary, felt a weight on your shoulders that won’t leave – I’ve wondered if it’s the shared weight of that shroud.

That is why I give deep and heartfelt thanks for All Saints Day this year.  I need to remember the saints.  I need to remember and give thanks for their lives and their witness to God’s love.  I need to see these pictures all around us, to think of the great art that imagines the communion of saints, to remember that God has not and will not ever leave us.  When we proclaim our faith in the words of the Creed today, we proclaim faith in the One who continues to hold us, together with them, in the great cloud of witnesses that stretches across time and space. 

Our lessons today speak against an enemy more fundamental than political opponents or social media trolls. Death is the universal enemy, and in the stories for today, God becomes the death of Death:

On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food…..and he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples…..he will swallow up death forever.

See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them…..Death will be no more.

Many years ago at my home congregation, the reader went to the lectern to read the lessons for the morning.  She read the words from Isaiah of the “feast of rich food” and so many of us smiled at the mention of the “well-aged wines strained clear.”  (God does have good taste in wine.)

As she began to read the words of John’s Revelation, she began to struggle.  To be sure, they are powerful words, deeply moving.  She almost couldn’t keep going, but she gave it her best try.  She apologized for her emotion when she finished, since the entire room was in tears by then as well.  The pastor assured her that her reading had brought the text alive for us in a way we would never forget.

What we didn’t know was that that day was the anniversary of her son’s death by suicide.  I don’t know for sure, but I like to think that as she read the lesson from Revelation, she heard for the first time that God had wiped the tears from her son’s eyes as he was welcomed into God’s embrace.  The pain that had pushed him into the darkest place was no more.  He was with God.

Dear friends: Death, the great devourer, will, itself, be swallowed up forever. We will celebrate this final victory together with all the saints at the great feast of the Lamb. And the only tears allowed at that feast will be ones of joy at being back in the presence of those we have loved and lost.

These are powerful images to anchor our hope on this day.  To do so in the midst of the amount of loss we have collectively suffered is an act of great courage and faith.  It is yet another paradox, the holding at once of two radically different things: life and death. 

It is Martha meeting Jesus, wild with grief over her brother’s death, who yet finds the words to say “yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

It is Jesus, through his tears of grief and anguish, raising his prayers and calling to Lazarus to come out.

All of us go down to the dust.  But even at the grave, we make our song: Alleluia!  And we proclaim the sure promise of the One who is the Resurrection and the Life.

Because in these days, more than ever, we need to hear: “See, I am making all things new.”

Yes, Lord Jesus. May it be so.

Amen.

Semper Ecclesia Reformanda Est

In which I look rather broadly at the good, the bad, and the ugly of the Reformation Sunday tradition. We are still called to re-forming!

Jeremiah 31:31-34

³¹The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. ³²It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. ³³But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. ³⁴No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.

Romans 3:19-28

¹⁹Now we know that whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. ²⁰For “no human being will be justified in his sight” by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin.

  ²¹But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, ²²the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, ²³since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; ²⁴they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, ²⁵whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; ²⁶it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus.
  ²⁷Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. By what law? By that of works? No, but by the law of faith. ²⁸For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.

John 8:31-36

³¹Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; ³²and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” ³³They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?”
  ³⁴Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. ³⁵The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. ³⁶So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

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Dear beloved of God, grace to you and peace from that loving God, through Christ by whom we are set free.  Amen.

I am struck as I consider these lessons this year, that how we perceive this day of Reformation has shifted dramatically in my own lifetime.

My mother told me that, as a child in the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, Reformation Day was a day to “lean out the windows and thumb one’s nose at the Catholic Church down the street.”

I remember as a young worship leader, being told by a matriarch of a congregation that “we don’t sing about Mary, that’s a Catholic thing.”  Luther’s deep regard for Mary notwithstanding, apparently.

And of course, there’s the characterization of our gathering hymn, “A Mighty Fortress,” as “the Lutheran Fight Song.”  Which is silly because each of our Lutheran colleges has its own alma mater.

But I give thanks that the saying so associated with the Reformation, “the church is always reforming” remains true, and has for the most part dispelled these unkind associations.

That saying – “the church is always reforming” – has an interesting history, and is an inheritance from the Reformers themselves.  But it was the mid-20^th century theologian Karl Barth who really brought it forward, putting a more particular dimension to it by also saying “ecclesia reformata semper reformanda.”  The church that is reformed, must always be reformed.  It’s said to originate in the writings of St. Augustine, which is quite plausible since Luther was an Augustinian monk.

But in that saying, the two verb tenses of the Latin for “reform” can hold the secret as to whether this day still really means anything.

“Reformata” is a past tense – a settled debate.

“Reformanda” is an active or present tense – an ongoing discussion and continued activity.

Look at the verb tenses in our lessons – they are both present and future tense.  Any phrases using the past tense refer to a time or experience to be learned from, not dwelt in.

For Luther, his moment of revelation is his understanding of this passage from Romans – Paul’s declaration that it is God’s grace through our faith, not our works, that saves us.  According to his explanation of the Third Article of the Creed:

I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith, just as he[she] calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes holy the whole Christian church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one common, true faith. 

The Holy Spirit is not a relic of the past, but a timeless presence of God to all of God’s creation, continuing to move among us in amazing ways.

This is most certainly true!  The essential reforms and changes in the Christian church would not happen without the Spirit’s moving, guiding, and sometimes downright pushing us to places of new understanding.

There is another dimension of the “ecclesia” saying that is frequently left out, and that is the ending “secundum verbum Dei” – according to the word of God.

Perhaps that is left out because it is open to vast interpretation!

But I think it is worth considering, particularly while holding today’s lessons in hand.  In Jeremiah, God assures God’s people of the new covenant to come.  In the Psalm, God’s people claim and pro-claim God as the one who protects and loves them.  Paul’s inimitable words remind us to not be swayed by works theology, the idea that you can earn your salvation.  And Jesus makes it clear that when the Son sets you free, you are free in ways you never thought possible.

If the church is to remain faithful to the word of God, the church must be constantly reminded by both scripture and experience that this word is LIVING.  It is by no means static.  A different context will give you a new understanding of how God is still speaking in our day.  If the church clings in fear to a human model of operating that has become utterly unsustainable – then I would submit that the church has exchanged its faith and trust in God for faith and trust in earthly things.

Things that, as we know – will pass away.

We are no longer the dominant force in our culture.  A very recent Gallup poll tells us that in 2020, only 47% of U.S. adults belonged to a church, synagogue or mosque.

I have wondered for some time if Constantine’s conversion to Christianity in the 4^th century was really all that great a thing.  Christianity’s association with the empires of the world has an extremely checkered past, and those who seek the Divine in our day are right to ask whether that past is codified and excused, or if it is broken open and questioned.

And we should be doing likewise.  Indeed, if we did not question our own past, Luther would never have been taken to task in our day for his truly awful rantings against the Jewish people – writings that were spurred by an argument with a Jewish community in his town.

Just because it’s always been that way – doesn’t necessarily mean it is right.

When we examine and question a thing, as Lutherans we have two guiding principles – one being according to the word of God, as I’ve mentioned.  You may have heard it as “sola Scriptura.”  How do we see the thing we examine in light of Scripture?  And how are we reading that Scripture through the lens that is Christ?  Chrirst as the lens is one of our great inheritances as Lutherans.

The second guiding principle is Luther’s theology of the cross.  This theology sees the world through the lens of the cross – which is to say, Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, and through it we come to understand that without death, there can be no resurrection.  A theology of the cross (as opposed to a theology of glory) does not try to put a fake sheen on something, or appeal only to the feel-good or “I can do it myself” side of the human psyche.  Rather, it calls a thing what it is, and acknowledges our utter dependence on God.

In Christ we are freed from constantly chasing after “enough” good works, and freed for directing those good works instead to our neighbor.

As the church finds itself in yet another time of great upheaval, both in society and in the church, it is not for us to jettison everything.  Nor is it for us to feverishly hang onto everything.

But it is absolutely for us to look with complete honesty at our past.  Where has the church gone astray?  How has the church harmed people?  How can we live more faithfully as church moving forward?

In the same way, to what and where is God calling us?  How can we avoid mere “busy work” or showiness that responds only to cultural pressures or to achieve worldly ends?

When we are bold to ask such questions and make such confessions, we are lavished with forgiveness and called to repentance.  And in that movement of turning to go a new way, we as the church are freed in this time; to consider what in our life together as church continues to hold, as my liturgy professor put it, “deep meaning and purpose.”

That is – not coincidentally – what so very many people are seeking in our time.  Deep meaning and purpose.  The places where that may be found are vast and certainly will differ from person to person.  But to be faithful to Christ’s call as church, we continue to discern direction, we continue to ask questions, we continue – to re-form.

And we never do it alone.  Because in this discernment and asking and forming anew, we above all continue to engage with the living word of God. 

For God is still speaking, and walks with us on the way toward what will be.

Amen.