November 20, 2016
Christ Our King
- Jeremiah 23:1-6
- Rev Ruth Chadwick Moore
My husband Mark and I have been watching a new Netflix series called “The Crown.” It is about the first decade of the reign of Queen Elizabeth of England. The Queen was quite young when her father died and she became the monarch. The mini-series explores her insecurities, her lack of formal education, her marriage to Prince Philip and her relationship with the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill. The series is fascinating, the history interesting and the scenery is magnificent!
There are three things that have stood out to me in this series. The first is that Prince Philip presumably had a very attractive bum when he was young. Since this is British TV it is prominently and beautifully displayed in many bedroom scenes. The second thing I noticed is that Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip have servants that help them dress and undress. But unlike in Downtown Abbey, they never talk to their servants. It’s like the servants are invisible – not there. Elizabeth and Philip discuss very private issues right in front of them and for them the servants don’t exist. The third thing is that Elizabeth is taught by her father that kings and queens are anointed by priests with oil at their coronations which symbolizes they are anointed by God to be leaders to their people.
But Jesus is a different kind of king isn’t he? He is not remote or unseeing of the people around him. And Jesus may be anointed, but not by oil, but by the Holy Spirit to be a leader and a king that is different than any earthly leader we know. In fact I have trouble sometimes thinking of Jesus as a king – at least in terms of an earthly king.
In a presidential election year, Reign of Christ or Christ the King Sunday presents us with a striking contrast to any political powers we have observed over the last year. The hubris of U.S. presidents, and of the candidates who aspire to the office, finds no place in the bible texts for today. At Golgotha, on the cross, Jesus offers a radically different vision of leadership than what we often see in the public realm.
In Luke’s version of the story, Jesus is taunted by the soldiers (as agents of the Roman Empire) and the Pharisees (as religious leaders). And then just to make sure we don’t miss the human side of power gone awry; Jesus is not only executed; he is humiliated. It’s like the leaders want to make sure you know that “we’re not killing Jesus because he’s powerful, we’re killing Jesus because he’s a Nothing who is pretending to be powerful.” Wow. That hurts.
The leaders of the day tell Jesus to exercise the kind of political authority they know best. “Save yourself” is their challenge for him to act like a secular ruler or religious leader might be expected to act. Even one of the criminals at his side joins the invective, hoping against hope that Jesus will exhibit the same kind of power as those who put him on the cross.
Except Jesus refuses. The only power he exercises is forgiving sin and inviting the criminal beside him to embrace the hope of life in God’s kingdom. This kind of power fully identifies Jesus with the weak, the rejected and the humiliated of the world. On the cross, he himself embodies that same weakness, rejection and humiliation. This is not the kind of power the people expected and many hoped for. Power at Golgotha is turned upside down as it finds itself expressed in a confusing act of public vulnerability and sacrifice.
It seems strange doesn’t it, to read this crucifixion story on the last Sunday of the church year before we begin a new season – the season of Advent and the hoped for birth and 2nd coming of Jesus. But it is in the final moments of Jesus’ mission on earth that we see the glory of the redemption story of God that begins with Jesus’ birth. As we look forward to a season that celebrates a baby who is called “Lord at thy birth;” and as we prepare to sing “Let earth receive her King:” it is good for us to take this time to remember what Jesus’ Lordship, what Christ’s Kingship, cost. Because it cost him his life in a very public show of vulnerability and what most thought of as weakness. And if God chooses to be vulnerable to us in this way, how much more should we humans be vulnerable in owning up to our own shortcomings and weaknesses?
Patrick Lencioni writes books on team management, and he states that the most important rule for leadership teams to implement is the necessity of “vulnerability-based trust.” He says that good leadership absolutely demands a level of honesty at which weakness and failure can be openly admitted. When that doesn’t occur this communicates to the work environment that it is an unsafe place for your own humanity to be fully expressed. This in turn creates an atmosphere in which leadership can fail.
Lencioni points out that leaders who are unwilling to admit weaknesses or blind spots have difficulty changing direction when needed and people do not trust them to tell the truth. The result he says is that all significant decisions are ultimately measured against the ego or image of a leader or group of leaders, rather than by some more objective measure.
Probably the most vulnerable relationship I have is my marriage. To love someone that much makes you vulnerable. Words can build up or break down the other person and the relationship. I have gotten to know Mark the most intimately in the wee hours of the morning when we have laid in bed together and shared our hopes and our dreams as well as our fears and our mistakes. When we have shared our weaknesses and failures with each other, that vulnerability has brought us closer. Those moments have literally saved our marriage, because they have required us to forgive each other and move on towards wholeness and a new way of living together as husband and wife. We gain knowledge of salvation when we forgive one another. Not all saving activity is physical. Not all saving comes from power. Our salvation comes from the forgiveness of our sins through the life, death and resurrection of a vulnerable king.
Pope Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King in 1925 because he was fearful of the rise of secular authority and the increasing denial of Christ as king in the public realm. With the rise of non-Christian dictatorships the pope thought the church needed a liturgical focus on the rule of Christ as a counter balance.
But what Pope Pius forgot was the kind of power Christ wielded – a power in vulnerability that is so evident on the cross. At Golgotha Jesus is not advocating that we replace one form of political power with another. He is advocating an entirely different way of being in relationship with one another in the kingdom of God – where power is expressed in public acts of costly vulnerability.
Are you comfortable with that kind of humility and vulnerability? In all honesty I am not. I might be with my husband – but only in the dark of the night. But to be vulnerable to all of you? I want you all to think I am capable and competent and I always feel God’s presence and follow God’s ways. I want you to think that I never get tired, that I never get crabby, that I am never dramatic and that I am here for you 24 hours seven days a week. But of course that is not really the person I am. I make mistakes all the time. We all do. The leaders of the world, the leaders of our country and the leaders of the church are not perfect. That is why we have texts like this passage from Luke to give us a critique of the ways power is exercised. In any relationship – and our church is founded around relationships – any relationship requires us to admit failure, uncertainty and weakness. This is the only way we can trust each other. This is the only way we can love each other. This is the only way we can forgive each other. This is the only way we can be church together. In our vulnerability we reflect the kingdom of God that Jesus embodied for us – even when it meant death on a cross.
This is why we celebrate Christ the King Sunday every year – to celebrate that power comes in the form of unmerited mercy and forgiveness. Jesus’ final act of saving grace is celebrated even as we head into the season of God’s saving entrance into the world. The story ends and then it begins again. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Resources:
Most of the content of this sermon comes from Scott D. Anderson’s “Living By The Word” article for November 20, Reign of Christ found in The Christian Century of October 26, 2016.