Rv 1:4-8

26 November 2006

Christ the King

“A Good Way to Live”

            The day after the mid-term elections this month, I saw something on the TV news that confirmed something I’ve long suspected.  The talking heads were already speculating about candidates for the 2008 presidential election.  And they were doing us the great favor of letting us know who the front-runners are.  I can’t say how grateful I am that they tell me what to think!  By the way, the suspicion that all this confirmed is that campaign season never ends.

            One side effect of this is that’s extremely difficult to find a political figure, certainly at the national level, who deviates when on camera, from what I call “politician speak.”  (Perhaps I should say:  when they know that they’re on camera!)  Here’s what I mean by “politician speak”:  disrespecting our intelligence, uttering slogans instead of straight answers, and basically…not treating us like normal human beings.

            (Incidentally, now that the election is over, I don’t mind telling you that none of the people I voted for won.  Let’s just say that I refuse to be pigeon holed as either blue or red; I voted green!  My mom and Banu tell me that I waste my vote, but I don’t think it’s wasted if I vote my conscience.)

            There’s another aspect of what I call “politician speak”:  it’s the religious dimension.  This is more of a sub-category.  Not all politicians are as determined to insert religious language into their speeches.  Not all of them try equally hard to look spiritual.  And I know I’m on dangerous ground here.  We have to be very careful about making judgments on other people’s displays of faith.  We aren’t God; we don’t know everything.

            David Kuo was the number 2 person in the White House’s Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives from 2001 to 2003.  He recently wrote a book entitled Tempting Faith.  He’s a conservative Christian who became disillusioned with the manipulation of power, and in particular, the manipulation of evangelical voters.

He was a true believer in Bush’s claim to be a compassionate conservative.  But during his tenure at the White House, he found very little that could be called “compassion.”  Still, it isn’t his intent, nor is it mine, to single out Bush for criticism.  When it comes to presidential power, it seems to be the nature of the beast.

Some abuse it more than others, but Kuo says this:  “I think White House power is kind of like Tolkien’s ring of power.  When you put it on, it feels good and dazzles.  After a while it becomes imminently and remarkably distorting.  I think everyone is subject to the negative influence of that power, and that’s true of anybody.  It’s true of me, it’s true of anyone that’s worked there, it’s true of anybody in politics after a while.”[1]

            As for David Kuo, he says he’s taking a “fast from politics.”  What he wants to focus on in his life is what’s closest to his heart, “caring for the poor and working with other people.”  (Which is why he accepted the post in Washington to begin with.)  He’s tired of the political games, because he says “that’s not a really good way to be, that’s not a good way to live.”[2]

            Here’s a lesson I take from his story:  it’s a mistake to look to politics to provide either saviors or superheroes.  But if that’s true (and I’m willing to admit that I may be wrong!), should we then withdraw from politics altogether?  Throughout the centuries, many Christian groups have come to that very conclusion.  A group in our area that we’re familiar with, the Amish, live that type of lifestyle.  There is much to learn from the Amish.

            However, as a Presbyterian Christian, I hold to the statements expressed in our Book of Order about the Reformed tradition of faith.  I’m especially thinking of one which speaks of the “recognition of the human tendency to idolatry and tyranny, which calls the people of God to work for the transformation of society by seeking justice and living in obedience to the Word of God” (G-2.0500a(4)).  (By the way, we’re not the only ones who believe that.)

            That note at the end about “living in obedience to the Word of God” provides a nice segue.  It’s one thing to talk about how we do things in our church or our denomination; it’s quite another to return to the source, to the Word of God—both the written word and the living Word.

            I believe that ample reason for political engagement is found in our scripture text.  The name of this day on the Christian calendar, Christ the King, speaks to how our faith is inevitably political.  I respect the beliefs of those Christians who feel the need to withdraw from the political arena.  But I believe a more faithful approach is—to use a phrase that’s become more popular recently—to speak truth to power.

            I believe that because that’s what Jesus does in the gospels.  He speaks truth to power.  On several occasions, he’s invited—even ordered—to seize political power for himself.  But he’s very careful about putting on the “ring of power” we looked at earlier.  He sees the danger in a mentality that our friend David Kuo calls “not a really good way to be…not a good way to live.”

            Still, having said all that, what does it mean to say that Christ is our king?  And if we believe that he is our king, are we loyal citizens?

            On his website, journeywithjesus.net, Daniel Clendenin speaks of “The Clash of Two Kingdoms.”  He says it’s been noted that “pagans accused the earliest followers of Jesus of cannibalism” because they claimed to eat his body and drink his blood.  But “they also accused them of sedition [of treason] because of the overt political implications [when they spoke] of a ‘kingdom of God’ and a ‘citizenship in heaven.’”[3]

            We’re so used to watering down Jesus’ words that we miss how truly scandalous they are.  Clendenin goes on, “When Jesus insisted that his kingdom was ‘not of this world,’ he did not mean that it was merely spiritual, or relegated to a future age beyond history or in heaven.  Far from it, as his [enemies understood.  They] rightly concluded that if Jesus was a king, a Lord, and a ruler, he clearly…upstaged Caesar as Lord.  Their two kingdoms clashed.”

            He makes clear a point that I’ve attempted to make on several occasions, which is that the Lord’s Prayer might be the most revolutionary of all political statements.  “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”  God’s desire be done on earth as it is in heaven!

“People who live and pray this way have a very different agenda than Caesar’s, whether Republican or Democrat.”  I would say, whether they’re blue, red, or green!  That’s because “they have entered a kingdom, pledged allegiance to a ruler, and submitted to the reign of Christ the King.”

            We have a picture of what I’ve been talking about demonstrated in the book of Revelation.  And do you mind if I vent for just a moment?  I grow weary of preachers who turn Revelation into the story line for a horror movie.  They’re completely missing the point of the book!

John’s message is one of hope to a church that’s under persecution.  He’s not giving you and me, twenty centuries later, a timeline for the end of the world.  When we ignore the message to people he wrote to, it’s no wonder that Revelation is considered some bizarre oddity.

            If we look at our scripture reading, we see that it takes the form of a letter.  John is speaking to “the seven churches that are in Asia” (v. 4).  This was a region in western Asia Minor, modern-day Turkey.  To the Jewish greeting of “peace” (shalom), John adds the Christian term, “grace.”

            He uses a number of descriptions of God, including Trinitarian language, but sticking to the theme for today, I’ll highlight one that appears in verse 5.  Speaking of Jesus Christ, John calls him “the ruler of the kings of the earth.”  Again, remember how far removed we are from that time and culture.  We don’t fully appreciate the outrage that Christians stirred up by saying that kind of stuff.

            We can say—we can even sing—“Jesus is King of kings and Lord of lords,” and not think very much about it.  As for the churches John writes to, they realize just how political a statement it is.  They realize just how dangerous a statement it is.

            We’re back to this business of kingdoms clashing.  Jesus and Caesar have competing visions for how things should be done—at the local, national, and international levels.  Jesus and Caesar have competing visions for how we should be, how we should live our lives.

            Verse 6 says that Jesus has already made us “a kingdom”; he has already made us “priests.”  That has two parts.  The “kingdom” part means that our participation in politics, in public life—if we believe that Christ is our king—lines up with his vision.  The gospels show us how he lived his life.

            The second part is about our being “priests.”  The priests intervened between the people and God.  Thanks to Jesus, we have direct access to God.

            That kind of access—that kind of empowerment—is something we don’t always want.  At least, we sure don’t always act like we do!  It’s easier to ignore the knowledge we’ve been given, because knowledge implies responsibility.  You know the old saying, “ignorance is bliss”?

Joan Chittister has something along these lines.[4]  She tells a story “of the distressed person who came to the Holy One for help.  ‘Do you really want a cure?’ the Holy One asked.  ‘If I did not, would I bother to come to you?’ the disciple answered.  ‘Oh, yes,’ the Master said.  ‘Most people do.’  And the disciple said [in amazement], ‘But what for then?’  And the Holy One answered, ‘Well, not for a cure.  That’s painful.  They come for relief.’”

(And if you don’t think that cures are painful, talk to somebody who’s gone through rehab!  It’s easier to seek comfort, to just dull the pain!)

She wonders, “in a culture totally given to individualism, what relationships [are we] betraying by selfishness, and what [would it] take to cure ourselves of the self-centeredness that requires the rest of the world to exist for our own convenience”?  Coming to grips with that is not an easy thing!

I spoke earlier about being a green voter, but that’s hardly enduring very much pain.  Not enough to lead to a cure—not enough to leave the earth in better shape than the way I found it!  We often want to be told how to live, to hide behind rules and regulations—to have the decision taken out of our hands.  You know, kind of like Pontius Pilate, standing before the bloodthirsty mob screaming for Jesus?

And sometimes we sense the Spirit of Jesus, asking that irritating question from Luke 12:  “Why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?” (v. 57).  Jesus tends to ask those irksome, annoying questions!

A few days ago, Banu and I finally got around to watching the movie by Al Gore, An Inconvenient Truth.  I’d been somewhat hesitant to see it.  I figured it would be full of the “politician speak” I was earlier lamenting.  There are a few moments when he lapses into it, but for the most part, it’s a very good movie.

Gore does something I would find refreshing for more politicians to do while still in office:  he mentions some ways that he and his family have been part of the problem, not the solution.  As I was watching it, I thought of ways I could say the same thing.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  What does that mean for the way we treat the earth?  What does that mean for the way we treat each other?

Look at pages 10 and 11 in your worship programs.  You’ll see the faces and names of the two people to whom we sent Christmas cards last year.  As you can see in the updates, Helen Berhane was released only last month.  Despite the torture inflicted on her, she refused to abandon her faith.

You’ll notice that she was held incommunicado.  That means no one from the outside world could communicate with her:  no family, friends, lawyers, or doctors.  The US continues to hold an unknown number of prisoners the same way—at Guantánamo Bay and other places around the world.

Father Gerard Jean-Juste was released soon after Christmas.  He came to America to seek treatment for leukemia.  He encourages us with these words:  “Let’s keep the momentum on for justice, peace, love, and sharing to prevail all over the world as God wants it.”

This church had a role to play in their release from prison.  Two weeks from now, besides it being the Second Sunday of Advent, it will also be Human Rights Day.  I’ll invite us to send cards of hope and support to other prisoners of conscience.

What does it mean to say that Christ is our king?  I’ve suggested just a few things.  But it begins with us.  For Christ to be king in our world, Christ must be king in our lives.  That means a journey of continual repentance and renewal.  The good news is that, through his Spirit in the community of faith, we can truly acclaim him as King of kings and Lord of lords.  That’s a good way to live.

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