Feast of Christ of Christ the King

November 25             NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Feast of Christ of Christ the King

Texts:  Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; Revelation1:4b-8; John 18:33-37

Theme:   "Christ the King" will do fine.

Introduction.  This is the last Sunday of yet another liturgical year, the Last Sunday before Advent.  Traditionally called "Stir-up Sunday", a better name for it may be "Sum-up Sunday".  Liturgically, it's the last chapter of the book, the final denouement, when all is revealed and explained.  The purposes of God, embodied in the life and mission of Christ, past, present and future, are finally laid bare for all to see.  And a special note here for preachers.  Do not take one look at the Lectionary and throw up your hands in horror!  There is plenty in these readings to get your teeth into.  The Books of Daniel and Revelation may not have the appeal of, say, Isaiah and John (except to a certain brand of American Christianity, perhaps), but it is hard to see what our liturgy might look like without them.  Even more than usual, it all depends on how we hear/read them.  At one extreme they seem to prescribe everything that the Lord held unholy – military might to inaugurate and defend Christ's rule on earth.  But as the wonderful little dialogue between Pilate and Jesus makes clear in today's gospel reading, that is a complete misunderstanding of the kingdom of God.

Background.  This whole concept of "the kingdom of God/heaven" is central to Christ's teaching.  Mathew and Mark agree that the first message Jesus gave at the very beginning of his public ministry was, "Repent, for the Kingdom of God is near": Matthew 4:17; Mark 1:15.  The question is, what does that mean?  What sort of "kingdom" are we talking about here?

That's been a problem for us for all the 2,000 years of our Christian history.  Too often we have equated "kingdom" with power in the sense of autocracy, dictatorship, etc.  Strong men (and occasionally strong women) usually acting badly in the pursuit of self-aggrandisement and to the detriment of the people.  Every night, just about, we see examples of this sort on our TV news; Assad in Syria is only the latest in a long and horrific list of dictators who will stop at nothing to preserve their kingdom for themselves and their toadies.  A minor, slightly less vicious home-grown example was served up by the Labour Party this week, as personal ambition seemed to some members to be far more important than the interests of those they are supposed to be serving.

For all the ongoing tragedy of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, there is a sense that here we see a power struggle that is illustrative of the biblical take on all such personal grabs for power.  According to one report I read, the leaders of Hamas, democratically elected to government in Gaza and therefore (despite the Western view) the legitimate rulers of Gaza, would like to order the cessation of rocket attacks on Israel, but dare not for fear of losing some of their power to a more extreme faction of Hamas; and the Israeli Prime Minister would like to reach a deal with Hamas to end the fighting, but dare not because he needs to keep the support of more extreme parties in the Israeli government.  In other words, that sort of worldly power is derived, not from strength, but from fear.  That is exactly the picture the New Testament gives us in the scene where the supposedly powerful King Herod orders the beheading of John the Baptist for fear of losing face; and it's exactly the picture we get with Pilate as he ends up handing Jesus over for crucifixion even though he believes him to be innocent of all charges.  He's afraid of the mob.

So where can we find a better example of the sort of kingdom Jesus is proclaiming?  At the risk of seeming to be a rabid royalist I suggest that we could start our quest by looking at the Queen in her Jubilee Year.   Yes, she has great wealth, many large palaces, and all the privileges and trimmings usually associated with worldly rulers.  Yet as we look back over her long reign we see, perhaps, more a picture of service than of megalomania.

We need to be careful with the word "world" in this context: "My kingdom is not of this world" can so easily seem to mean that Jesus' kingdom is some sort of Shangri-la up in the clouds, or off in the never-never land of the far distant future.  But the prayer he teaches us should put pay to that: if that is what he meant, why does he instruct us to pray that the kingdom may come on earth as in heaven?  So perhaps he is saying to Pilate, my 'kingdom" is not of the sort the world understands by that word.  The rest of that verse (19:36) supports that sort of interpretation, I think: If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews.  But now my kingdom is from another place.

So on this "Sum-up Sunday" how can we sum up Jesus' understanding of the kingdom he has come to proclaim and inaugurate?  An obvious place to start may be the so-called "kingdom parables – 'the kingdom of heaven is like...'  From these we can say it starts small, like a seed, it grows slowly, invisibly – it is alive, organic, not something static and unchanging.  It is not yet – it is in the process of becoming.  It is hidden, more apparent from its effects than its substance, rather like the wind blowing where it will.  Perhaps the central image of these parables can be said to be the garden or farm, where the seed is sown, it sprouts and needs tending by the gardener until it reaches full maturity, ready for harvest.

As I pondered my understanding of the kingdom I found myself going back time and again to that little dialogue between Jesus and Peter as Jesus started to wash his disciples feet at the Last Supper: John 13:6-10a.  Peter is horrified at the thought of Jesus acting like a slave to him.  Is that humility on Peter's part?  Or false pride?  Or something else, something more like an unwillingness to let Jesus be Jesus?  "No," said Peter, "you shall never wash my feet."  Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me."  It seems to me that we could translate Jesus' answer, "Unless you let me do what I want with you, you cannot enter the kingdom of God."  Peter is a slow learner; he next tries to direct Jesus' action from a mere foot-wash to include a hand-wash and a hair-wash as well.  Jesus demurs, in terms that have led some commentators to suggest that this is now a discussion about baptism.  Personally, I don't think that will wash: the issue is and remains, will Peter submit to whatever Jesus has in mind, or not?  "Rule or "reign" might seem too heavy here, but that's the issue.  And there might be an issue here for us, too.  If Christ has told someone to do something for us and we decline that person's help, what are we guilty of, and what part do we have with Christ?

Daniel.  Remember that this is part of a vision and is best looked at more than read.  It's full of symbols.  "Thrones" symbolise power and authority.  (Try not to choke when you hear talk of the "enthronement of the next Archbishop of Canterbury".)  God is called "the Ancient of Days", capturing the idea of "time immemorial", "from the beginning", or simply "eternal".  His robe is white, spotless, symbolising purity and perfection.  His hair is white, perhaps here the sign of wisdom.  There is fire around God, and even pouring like a river from God, bearing the purification of judgment to the world, perhaps.  God is surrounded by beings, countless as heavens stars, either the angelic host or the great cloud of witnesses comprising the communion of saints, or both.  The scene becomes a courtroom.  Justice is to be found in the one on the throne.  (Think Royal courts of Justice, Royal prerogative of mercy, and so on.)  Another shift of focus, and now we see one like a Son of Man arriving and being led into the presence of the one who sits on the throne.  Notice how the language here is adopted into the Ascension accounts in the gospels: Matthew 28:18; Luke 24:51; John 20:17.  All nations will worship him (in fulfilment of the Abramic Covenant), and his kingdom will have no end (the Davidic promises).

Taking It Personally.

·   Review the last 12 months of your faith journey.  What have you learned along the way?  Where are you being led?

·   Does our story make sense when read as a whole?  Look at the Nicene Creed (Prayer Book, page 410): is that a fair summary of our story?  Can any bit be struck out without leaving a gap in the logic of the story?

·   Spend some time "looking" at Daniel's vision in this story.  What picture forms in your mind?  How do you feel about it?  Does it seem strange and alienating, or does it draw you and nourish you?

·   Now meditate for a while on verses 26-7.  What do you think?

 

Revelation.  From one vision to another.  The same advice applies here: we need to look at it more than read it or listen to it.  Get the picture, literally.  Having said that, there is an extraordinary richness of words and phrases here; perhaps rather than a "picture" what we have here is more like a "tapestry".  We begin with that wonderful greeting "Grace and peace."  Who is greeting us?  "...him who was, and is, and is to come".  As I said above, so much of our liturgy is drawn from books like Revelation; but here these words are applied to God the Father, whereas in the liturgy they are used in respect of Christ: see Prayer Book, page 469.  "Seven spirits" is perhaps better translated "the seven-fold Spirit", seven being the perfect number.  "Throne" again symbolises power and authority.

In the next verses attention shifts to Jesus who is a "faithful witness", the first-born from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.  He loves us, has redeemed us, and empowers us to become a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father. [Daniel 7:26-7 again!]  When the focus shifts to Jesus' Return, notice that everyone will see him, even those who pierced him; and all the peoples of the earth will mourn!  ("Get away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.") 

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·   Start with our familiar piece of liturgy: "Grace and peace to you from God." {Prayer Book, page 404.]  Have you ever really heard that?  Notice those two little words "from God".  God is greeting you!  Isn't that something?

·   But wait, there's more.  God is not just saying "hullo" or "g'day"; he is sending you his grace and the peace that passes all understanding.  Isn't that something else?

·   Meditate on verse 8 – even memorise it.  God is the beginning and end of all things.  You have come from God and will end in God.  Spend time in praise and thanksgiving.

 

John.  I have already said a bit about this little passage.  Here's a bit more.  Pilate goes back into his palace, the symbol and place of his power.  He summons Jesus, an exercise of power.  He puts a straight question to Jesus; but Jesus invites him to reflect on where that question originates.  In other words, is Pilate just quoting others (who do people say I am?), or is he beginning to engage with that question himself (who do you say I am?).  (See also Matthew 16:17 here.)  But Pilate is not prepared to go there!  He pushes him away.  In verse 37 the punctuation in the NIV translation is interesting: "You are a king then!" rather than "You are a king then?"  Jesus' response is even more intriguing.  "For this reason I was born" stresses his humanity; "and for this I came into the world" stresses his divinity.  He is to "testify to the truth": he is "the faithful witness" of Revelation 1:5.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·   What is the "truth" to which Jesus testifies?

·   Are you convinced?  Why?

·   What are your hopes for Advent?