A Dangerously Good King

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.

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[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.