CHRIST THE KING SUNDAY -- 25 NOVEMBER 2007

ST PAUL LUTHERAN CHURCH, ABQ, NM -- The Rev. P. L. Holman

Jeremiah 23:1-6; Psalm 46; Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43

"Upside-down Kingship -- The Best Kind Ever"

Some years ago in Denver I was a candidate for call in a congregation that had never interviewed a female for their Senior Pastor position. Everything seemed to be going well until they asked me what I liked about being a pastor. I said I loved the irony of the gospel, the irony of finding strength in the dregs of cancer's weakness, of life in the midst of the dying. I love the irony. The head of the Altar Guild piped up, "You like IRONING?!" No, that'd be my mother -- she loves to iron…

This is the last Sunday of the church year -- next week it's Advent, and we start marking the days all over again. What sort of marking? The marking of days remembering Christ so that our lives can be glimpses of Christ to others "until that day come when no one need work and we all find our rest" in God. This is the marking of God's ironic blessing: that strength will come from weakness, that forgiveness is possible even for evildoers, that life comes even in the midst of death, that God would love the world so much even to die for it AND for us.

Christ the King Sunday was originally the last Sunday in October; we Protestants have taken that over as Reformation Sunday, recognizing Christ as King instead on this final Sunday of the church year. This festival day is a 20th century phenomenon. In 1925 Pope Pius XI declared the need for this holy day in a time when people were still reeling from the Great War and heading into another one; when political turmoil was rocking Europe and people in despair needed assurance that the "peace which the King of Peace came to bring on earth" would indeed one day be realized. It was a life-giving irony that needed to be emphasized.

Although our own nation was born out of rebellion against the rule of monarchy, most of us know precious little about that model of governance. Even the British model today is one of sovereignty rather than absolute rule. So what does it mean for us to be subjects of God's reign, to claim allegiance to the Kingship of Christ? Colossians gives us a comprehensive vision: this King is one who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, the one who holds the cosmos together even now.

Christ is the head of the body we call Church. As we receive Christ, we assume our role as "subjects" of this King; we are then sent to BE Christ to the world and to the communities where we are planted. We are sent to be the force for healing, reconciling, forgiving -- we are sent to show mercy.

As Christ-bearers ourselves we are guided by the early words of Luke's gospel about Mary the Christ-bearer who pondered all sorts of words about her son; Mary, the one who took the words of Simeon to heart: "This one is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed…." [Luke 2:34-35] Simeon the old sage declared that this child was sent for the healing of the nations -- and he would pay with his life for that healing. Yet this King, Luke assures us just 20 chapters later, this One stripped of clothing and dignity, ripped of any semblance of crown and dominion, this King reigns forever with the power of Life -- the power of forgiveness and never failing mercy.

Look again at the dialog happening on the cross. According to Luke's gospel Jesus says two things from the cross: "Father, forgive them" … and "Truly I tell you today you will be with me in Paradise." The religious leaders: they’re forgiven; the rabble-rousers and lemmings who blindly echoed the loudest voice around, forgiven. The evildoer on the cross next to Jesus is guilty, and he knows it. In contrast to that of the innocent one, his condemnation is just -- he deserved to die. The only thing this evildoer has going for him is he recognizes the power of Life present in the one dying next to him. "Remember me Jesus, when you come into your kingdom." He asks for mercy, and Jesus grants it.

In his book Angels Love Children, Herbert Brokering writes of a boy who drew a picture of angels wearing headsets. Headsets, you ask? Yes, so they can be in touch with each other throughout the universe. Imagine Jesus jogging with his IPod…. Brokering says, after lots of experience with life itself, he believes some angels do wear headsets. "Being in touch with the world -- in whatever way -- is an act of mercy, and mercy takes angels to do it." Mercy is an old word that was used to talk about God's compassion. Mercy is also about goodness and love, about a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and about a good man without clothes dying on a cross. Brokering invites US to ponder: how many ways are there to show mercy? What's the hardest kind of kindness there is? What if there was no word at all for hate, just words of mercy and kindness and love? What if all enemies were kind to one another for one day? What if all sound waves carried songs of goodness and mercy for a week (and they didn't cost 99 cents a download)? What if there was a department of MERCY in every state? Mercy!

Mercy, Brokering says, is listening to someone so you can hear what they feel; is it looking all around for the person who's hurting; it is having medicine in your eyes when you talk…. [Augsburg Fortress, 1997, p. 34]

Jesus is the One who shows mercy, even in his dying to the thief at his side. What a blessing! What encouragement for us who are equally qualified as evildoers -- whether the evil is in our actions or in our failure to act justly. If Jesus can save a thief, Christ can save us -- Christ can heal you and me, can provide a path for reconciliation amidst the mire of our lives as well. To those hungry, Jesus offers the bread of life. To those thirsty, Jesus provides living water; to the lonely, a friend; to the sick, healing and hope. And when we are dying, Jesus IS the resurrection and the life.

"Stir-up Sunday" is an informal term in the Anglican Church for the last Sunday before the season of Advent. The term comes from the opening words of the collect or prayer for the day in the Book of Common Prayer of  1549:            Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that       they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee      be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

On the brink of Advent and the beginning of a new church year, on the brink of the chaos of commercialized Christmas and such, we subjects of Christ the King are called to listen -- to slow down and ponder and upon hearing to get stirred up by the need to respond -- perhaps not as we ought but as we are able. How is God stirring up your life in these days? What fruits of your labor are God pleasing, and what labors need to be set aside? Perhaps our collect for every day in this approach to Christmas might read something like that of our Anglican brothers and sisters:

            Stir up, I pray you, O God, stir up my will for YOUR life; that in this             season of preparations others may see my actions and open their hearts to receive you.

Amen, let it be so. Indeed, in the name of the Christ who reigns forever, Amen