November 20, 2016 - Christ the King Sunday
Colossians 1:11-20
11May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from the
Lord’s glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with
patience, while joyfully 12giving thanks to the Father, who has
enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13He
has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom
of his beloved Son, 14in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of
sins.
15He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 16for
in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and
invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers -- all things have
been created through him and for him. 17He himself is before all
things, and in him all things hold together. 18He is the head of the
body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he
might come to have first place in everything. 19For in him all the
fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20and through him God was
pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by
making peace through the blood of his cross.
Sermon: “A
Dangerously Good King”
If there were ever a bunch of
folks to have authority issues, it would be us Presbyterians. We’ve long been suspicious of those in power,
especially those who rule absolutely, because of a little thing we like to call
total depravity. All of us sin. And when sin is wedded to power, well, things
can get pretty bad. Our distrust of
authority goes back a long way, and is evident throughout history.
Take the Revolutionary War,
for example. A letter by King George III
published[1]
just before the war in a London newspaper said it most clearly:
“Believe me, the Presbyterians
have been the chief and principal instruments in all these flaming measures,
and they always do and ever will act against Government, from that restless and
turbulent anti-monarchical spirit which has always distinguished them every
where.”
Such
rebels, we are! Now, we may like to see
the latest pictures of cute Charlotte and George, and we may watch royal
weddings with the rapt delight of the masses, but deep down, we still embody
that anti-monarchical spirit ol’ George accused us of.
We
traded monarchy for representative democracy, but we have our mistrusts there
too, of course. Sometimes a president
makes us pretty anxious, but given the choice, we’d always choose to have a
president over a king.
I
think this is perhaps why I’ve, in the past, avoided the high church observance
of this day: Christ the King Sunday.
I
could get behind Christ the Shepherd Sunday, or Christ the Redeemer Sunday, or
Christ the Teacher Sunday, but Christ the King?
I’m just not sure. If Jesus
Christ is King, he’s going to have to be a very different sort of king than any
we’ve ever known.
As
it turns out, he is.
Colossians,
echoed in the Nicene Creed, declares him to be the firstborn of all creation,
the One through whom every person and animal and speck of this world is joined
together. He is the fullness of God, not
a vindictive, hateful God, but a God who rescues us from the power of darkness,
and reconciles us from the power of division.
This king isn’t so preoccupied with his status or his worth, but is
absolutely consumed by the desire to make this earth a kingdom unlike any
other, where peace reigns forever and ever.
Our Presbyterian Book of Confessions reinforces the sort of King Jesus
is. The Heidelberg Catechism says we
call him Christ because, “he is ordained by God the Father and anointed with
the Holy Spirit to be our chief Prophet and Teacher, fully
revealing to us the secret purpose and will of God concerning our redemption;
to be our only High Priest, having redeemed us by the one sacrifice of
his body and ever interceding for us with the Father; and to be our eternal
King, governing us by his Word and Spirit, and defending and sustaining us
in the redemption he has won for us.”
The
Westminster Confession reinforces the three-fold office of Jesus, saying, “It
pleased God, in his eternal purpose, to choose and ordain the Lord Jesus, his
only begotten Son, to be the Mediator between God and humanity, the prophet, priest, and king; the head and
Savior of his Church, the heir of all things, and judge of the world; unto whom he
did, from all eternity, give a people to be his seed, and to be by him in time
redeemed, called, justified, sanctified, and glorified.
Finally,
A Brief Statement of Faith talks about this kingdom work of Jesus, saying, “Jesus proclaimed
the reign of God: preaching good news to the poor and release to the captives,
teaching by word and deed and blessing the children, healing the sick and
binding up the brokenhearted, eating with outcasts, forgiving sinners, and
calling all to repent and believe the gospel.”
This is a king we suspicious
Presbyterians can trust and follow, knowing that his reign means not coercive
power or greedy gain, but redemption, release, and reconciliation.
My very favorite description
of this king comes from the beloved Narnia series by C.S. Lewis. Finding themselves in a bewildering and
magical place, the siblings Lucy and Susan happen upon Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. They wind up in a conversation about the
elusive and mysterious Aslan, whom of course Lewis included as a divine
allegory.
“Is he a man?” asked Lucy.
“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is
King of the wood and the son of the great emperor-beyond-the-sea. Don’t you
know who is the King of the Beasts? Aslan is a lion – the Lion,
the great lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man.
Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s
anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either
braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who
said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King,
I tell you.”
No, Jesus certainly is not a
safe king. For if we truly proclaim his
reign, it will mean the dangerous work of putting lesser powers in their place.
If we truly proclaim his
reign, it will mean confessing that we hold our words and actions accountable
to the Highest Authority, One who does not abide hatred, violence, injustice or
petty bickering.
If we truly proclaim his
reign, it will mean living as if his reconciling work on the cross actually did
something; actually changes how we treat our neighbor, our friend and enemy
alike.
Yes, the reign of Christ puts
much in danger: mostly our need to be right, to be in control, to defend our
fragile egos and ideologies, and to claim moral nobility at the cost of the
least of these.
If Christ is King, then we
are not. Our fears are not. Our opinions are not. Our power is not.
We must live as those who
believe and trust this King who works for the redemption of all creation, who
proclaims a reign of good news to the poor and release to the captives, knowing
that this may be dangerous work, but it is crucial work.
We must not be afraid to
ruffle a few feathers, as we pesky Presbyterians have often done, to proclaim
the reign of Jesus Christ. And we must
remember that this reign was and is, at its heart, one of reconciliation:
taking all the bitterness, all the violence, all the retaliation and racism and
fear and mistrust and pride this world can offer, and putting it in a grave,
and leaving it there; and then rising above it, bringing unity, healing,
wholeness, rescuing us from ourselves, and making us one new creation.
So, Presbyterians, you who
rightly question authority, on this Christ the King Sunday, I ask you: who is
your King? Amen.
[1] Peter Force, ed., “Extract
of a Letter to a Gentleman in London, from New York, May 31, 1774” American
Archives, Fourth Series, Vol. 1, 301.
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