Rv 1:4-8
22 November 2009
Christ the King
“Is Jesus a King?”
Today, Christ the King, is the final Sunday on the church calendar. Sometimes, as it does this year, it comes before Thanksgiving. I figure that, since I’m preaching at the ecumenical Thanksgiving service at the Methodist Church tonight, I’ll focus on today.
For many people, Christ the King is an awkward phrase. Kings represent an outmoded form of government. Some prefer the term, “Reign of Christ.” I can live with that. But for me, what’s important is looking at our allegiances to Christ and to Caesar. Is there any difference? If so, in what ways?
David Kuo was the number 2 person in the White House’s Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives from 2001 to 2003. In his book, Tempting Faith, he tells his story as a Christian who becomes disillusioned with the manipulation of power.
Some abuse power
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]
That may sound a bit overly pessimistic. I don’t know that we have to succumb to the allure of power, but no doubt, it is a
powerful temptation.
As for Kuo, he decided to leave and take what he called a
“fast from politics.” He wanted to focus
on what’s closest to his heart, “caring for the poor and working with other
people.” (That’s why he accepted the
post in Washington to begin with.) He
grew tired of the political games, saying “that’s not a really good way to be,
that’s not a good way to live.”[2]
Many Christians over the centuries have concluded that political questions and faith don’t mix. They have avoided entering the public square, so to speak. Still, I think 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 speak truth to power.
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 that “ring of power.” 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 say that he is our king, are we loyal citizens?
On his website, journeywithjesus.net, Daniel Clendenin asks the question, “can a good Christian be a good citizen?” 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 more to the point, “they also accused them of sedition [treasonous talk] 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 the words of Jesus that we miss how truly outrageous, how 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 usurped and upstaged Caesar as Lord. Their two kingdoms clashed.”
The difference in kingdoms is not a matter of location. Christ and Caesar are always with us. Rather, it’s a difference in worldviews.
Clendenin joins me on a point that I’ve attempted to make at times, which is that the Lord’s Prayer is probably the most revolutionary of all political statements. Compared to that prayer, the most devoted communist sounds like a Wall Street banker.
Or is the prayer, for us, just empty words? Do we think about what we’re saying? “Thy kingdom come, thy will 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.” Or maybe we should say, using the colors that have been foisted upon us: whether they’re blue or red…or green! The reason is 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 this demonstrated in the book of Revelation. And please forgive me while I vent for just a moment! I grow very weary of preachers who turn Revelation into the story line for a horror movie. I understand that it makes great TV, and it keeps the donations flowing in, but 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 the 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. Christ and Caesar have different visions for how things should be done—at the local, national, and international levels. Christ and Caesar have different 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 job of the priests was to mediate 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!
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?
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.