November 22 NOTES FOR REFLECTION Feast of Christ the King
Texts: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-24; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37
Texts: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-24; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37
Theme:
The title of the feast may be enough.
Alternatively, something a little less formal may be preferred, such as
“All’s Well that Ends Well”, which should have particular appeal to fans of
William Shakespeare and/or Julian of Norwich.
At a different place on the spiritual spectrum, fans of G.J. Gardner
might thrill to “End of Story”; and those of us who are still young at heart (otherwise
known as childish) may like “Ready or Not”.
As this is a time to show solidarity with France
Introduction. We start this week with two great visions of
the end of our story, one from the prophet we know as Daniel and one from
someone whose name and title we have never been able to agree on. Let’s just call him Patmos John. Daniel’s vision gives us two expressions
important to our faith history and our hymnody: “son of Man”, and “Ancient of
Days”. It “captures” the moment when all
is restored to unity and harmony within the Trinity of love. Patmos John describes the same moment but in
rather more abstract terms – a consequence of fluency in Greek, perhaps. We finish with an interesting choice from St John’s
Background. As bad weeks go, this one must rank with some
of the worst, and it isn’t over yet. I
am writing this on Thursday morning, even as “discussions continue behind
closed doors” (an expression much used by journalists who are making stuff up)
over whether or not Richie McCaw should defer his expected announcement on his
future plans out of respect for Jonah Lomu, while our Prime Minister frets that
the atrocities in Paris might distract leaders at the APEC Conference from
really important matter relating to international trading opportunities
following the “successful” (Mr Key’s word) conclusion of the TPP Agreement. And as for those Aussies failing to shake
Ross Taylor’s hand at the end of his record-breaking innings – well, that
certainly puts the events on Christmas Island
in perspective, doesn’t it?
Meanwhile,
those hundreds and thousands of poor refugees fleeing from Islamic State and
seeking freedom and prosperity in the civilised West have suddenly become
secret agents of Islamic State and barred from entry into half the states of
the Land of the Free – all on the “evidence” of one passport allegedly
belonging to one of the terrorists involved in one of the attacks in Paris. So much for solidarity – so much for the idea
that the way to resist terrorists is to show them that we will not be
terrorised. Of all the saturation
coverage in our news media this week, the image that will stay with me the
longest is the stampede of people rushing away from a peace vigil, trampling on
flowers and candles and one another in their panic, past a large banner that
said “We are not Afraid”. There is a St
Peter in all of us.
And
perhaps that’s where the journey back from despair to hope can begin – in
recognising that “all of us” human beings belong together, in one kingdom,
under one God – and that this truth remains true no matter how many people
refuse to believe it or violently oppose it.
Come back to the cross for a moment: in place of the Roman centurion,
place an Islamist fighter. Is that any
more unthinkable to us today than it was for the people of the time to
contemplate a Roman guard acknowledging a Jewish outcast he has been helping to
crucify as “the son of God”?
This
week we have been told over and over again of the atrocities committed by
Islamic State in various parts of the world, including the downing of the
Russian aircraft over Gaza , multiple attacks in Turkey and Lebanon ,
and of course the latest attacks in Paris Turkey or Lebanon Paris but not by a bombing of
a hospital in Afghanistan
Nothing
justifies the attacks in Paris, but we must surely resist any temptation to
rate them as worse (or better) than violent attacks on any other human beings
anywhere in the world, and that includes places in Syria and Iraq now claimed
to be strongholds of Islamic State. If
God would not destroy Sodom
All
of which underlines the importance of this week’s concluding chapter of God’s
story. If we truly believe that God is
the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end; if we truly believe that
all things in heaven and on earth are being gathered up and brought together in
Christ; if we truly believe that God is working his purposes out and that a
time will come when the earth will be filled with the glory of God, then this
Feast is to be celebrated wholeheartedly, joyously and loudly – even at the
risk of waking the neighbours or frightening the horses!
This
week has challenged us yet again to remember that we can continue to believe in
that wonderful vision, not through any faith in ourselves, but because of our
trust in God. It is all God’s doing and
it is wonderful in our eyes! But that
does not mean that our calling is to be spectators or cheerleaders: our calling
is far higher than that. We are called
to be co-workers – co-creators – with God in building his Kingdom on earth as
it is in heaven. It is a kingdom without
walls, borders, and barriers. It is a kingdom
in which we stand in solidarity with all other human beings, recognising that
we share with them the dark side and the light side of our human nature. Recognising that WE are the Body of Christ –
all of us.
Some Final Personal Reflections
As I have come to accept that it is time to finish this series of Notes for Reflection I have asked myself what purpose they have served. Whatever may have been my intention when I started them in 2011, and whatever I may have thought I was doing ever since, I suspect that the Spirit has hi-jacked them along the way to teach me a few things I might never have grasped without them.
Some Final Personal Reflections
As I have come to accept that it is time to finish this series of Notes for Reflection I have asked myself what purpose they have served. Whatever may have been my intention when I started them in 2011, and whatever I may have thought I was doing ever since, I suspect that the Spirit has hi-jacked them along the way to teach me a few things I might never have grasped without them.
At
one level this is about personal discipline, sticking at it, when I felt like
it and when I didn’t. It’s about hearing
things I didn’t want to hear as well as those I did. One of the great virtues of following the
prescribed readings whenever we are preaching is that we cannot take evasive
action whenever we are confronted with a text we would rather overlook. We’ve certainly had a few of those in recent
weeks. The same is true of this
discipline of weekly reflections. As one
who has struggled over the years to maintain a disciplined practice of daily
prayer, these Notes have ensured that at the very least I have remained
committed to wrestling with the word of God week by week.
Looking
back over the Notes I have been fascinated by the way in which they very
quickly evolved from being very much “in-house” preaching notes, designed to be
an aid for those preaching on a Sunday, with background notes largely limited
to helpful passages from acclaimed spiritual writers, to something very
different. Quite how to describe that
“very different” form is a little tricky.
Between Trish and I the background notes have become known (in a gentle
way, of course) as my “weekly rave”. No
doubt they have sometimes descended into that; but through this part of the
Notes I have tried to proclaim my conviction that in a most astonishing way the
Scriptures do speak directly to the events and circumstances of today’s world
with as much relevance as they did when first composed. If nothing else, the practice of preparing
these Notes has taught me to listen to the radio or TV news, or to read the ODT,
with my “Bible Alert” programme switched on.
If that is one thing that I have passed on to those who have read these
Notes from time to time I shall be well pleased.
The
second major lesson for me, which I should have learned years ago, is that the
Judaeo-Christian story can only make sense as a whole: it is not a collection
of short stories from which we are free to pick and choose those we enjoy and
reject the others. As I have mentioned
from time to time, the tendency when preaching, even if we preach virtually
every week, is to break the story up into separate, self-contained teachings –
not for nothing are our non-gospel readings referred to as “lessons”. Hear this bit, do this or don’t do that, and
have a good week until next Sunday. It
is hard to get across the idea of continuity: perhaps we need to learn from TV
serials! That’s one of the reasons why I
place such value on this Feast of Christ the King – it is the logical
conclusion to which the whole story related through the liturgical year has
been moving.
This
has also helped me to lose my fear of Trinity Sunday. I can still remember the struggle I had when
I was first asked to preach on Trinity Sunday.
What on earth could I say that hadn’t been said a thousand – nay, ten
thousand – times before: what on earth can anyone say about the Trinity that
makes sense? But then one year the
breakthrough came: I saw Trinity Sunday as the point on which we pause, and
consider the story so far. It is the
conclusion of the first part of the liturgical year, where the emphasis is on
what I learned to call the Life Cycle of Christ. Viewed in that light, Trinity Sunday is when
we put together (or put back together) each part of the revelation of the
Godhead, when we so often seem to be dealing with its separate parts. When we talk of the Father sending the Son,
or the Son praying to the Father, or the Spirit descending on the Son, and so
on (which I majored on in that first terrified sermon), we can forget the
essential unity of the Triune God we worship.
There is, I believe, great value “in fitting Jesus” into the
understanding of the one true God, before we then ask ourselves what it is to
follow this God for the rest of our lives, which is the topic for the “second
semester” of the liturgical year.
All
of which leads me to the final point I want to stress here. I said above that I was tempted to suggest
that a theme for this feast could be “All or Nothing”. I have become more and more convinced that
there really are only two logical possibilities raised by the Christian story:
either it is broadly and fundamentally true, or it is complete nonsense. Either all things seen and unseen have their
creative origin in the mystery we call God, derive their very existence from
God, are sustained by God, and will eventually come into perfect harmony and
unity in God, or we have been seriously misled into believing, and are
seriously misleading others into believing, an extraordinarily elaborate hoax.
In
the end it comes down to this. Which of
those two possibilities is most in accord with my own experiences, from the
mundane to the ineffable? The practice
of preparing these Notes over the last four years and a bit have helped to
bring me to the point that I can say I believe in God Almighty, the Father, the
Son and the Holy Spirit, the alpha and the omega, the All in All.
And
I don’t care who knows it!
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