Sunday, November 25, 2018

Power: November 25, 2018


Year B, Christ the King                                                 
John 18:33-37                                                                                   

            Today is the Feast of Christ the King. It’s not one of our more well-known feast days. There are no greeting cards, no fun traditions and  no special decorations or cookies.  The feast itself is less than 100 years old.  It was 1925 when Pope Pius XI declared that this Sunday would be the Feast of Christ the King.  In 1925 Europe was still recovering from the devastating effects of World War I.   Italy was leaning much more secular than it previously had.  A church that had once experienced great power, saw their power and influence waning.
            Until 1870, the pope had authority and control over considerable geographic areas of Italy.  That changed in 1870 when the pope and The Roman Catholic Church lost power over all the land they previously held, which meant that while the pope retained spiritual authority, he had no political power.  This was a cause of consternation for the Roman Catholic Church.  After World War I, Italy was struggling to recover from the war.  Mussolini came to power and the Catholic Church found itself negotiating with this new fascist government attempting to retain some authority in Italy and the world.  The compromise was the creation of Vatican City as an independent city-state, and recognizing the pope as the head of state.  That final compromise came about in 1929, only 4 years after Christ the King feast day was inaugurated. 
            It’s interesting that this feast day, a day committed to recognizing the supreme authority of Jesus Christ, came in the midst of this political turmoil, a time when the Roman Catholic Church was struggling to hold on to their own authority.  Now, you could easily look at the timing and assume that the creation of this feast was a purely political move by the Church.  Many have come to that conclusion.  But I think it was more than that.  The Holy Spirit was in the midst of this.
I believe that the leadership of the church was genuinely scared about the future of Christianity.  They had just witnessed the First World War.  It was violence and death on a scale that no one had seen.  The Church that had once had a voice in the public and political sphere was now being virtually ignored.  The pope wanted to remind the people, anyone who was still listening, that God was still almighty, still all powerful.  Just because the church did not have an army behind it did not mean that it did not have power.  So they did what they knew how to do, they created liturgy to remind people of what real authority and power looked like.
            Now I have no idea who picked the readings that would be associated with this feast day.  It seems like choosing this reading from The Gospel of John would have been an odd choice for a church trying to reassert their authority.   If you asked me to choose a reading to display the power and authority of Jesus, I would have looked for something where Jesus looked impressive, perhaps the feeding of the 5000, or one of the many times he spoke of the Kingdom of Heaven, or even one of the resurrection accounts.  Those are feel good moments. 
But the trial scene?? We typically associate this trial scene with Holy Week.  We read it on Good Friday and feel sad because Jesus is about to die and instead of defending himself like any other self-respecting king, he asks questions and responds with confusing answers about where his kingdom is.  Jesus was a gifted orator. He was often besting the great theologians of his time.  He loved to put powerful people in their place.   What happened to that Jesus? That is the Jesus we need when we talk about authority and leadership.  We don’t need this slightly docile and evasive Jesus who seemed to cooperate with this Roman leader, who was widely perceived as an ineffective leader.
            Or maybe…this was exactly the kind of leader that the pope was trying to remind a beleaguered people after World War I-- who were searching for identity and hope in the rubble and ash of their pre-war existence.  And frankly, this might be exactly the kind of leader we need now, in a time when the church has virtually no political power and very little cultural influence.  We are even losing our authority as a moral guide.  Church attendance and participation is at an all-time low and sliding lower every single year.  Churches everywhere are scrambling for the perfect program, the cure all that will enable us to thrive again….to matter. 
            I remember when I was first learning about the Episcopal Church, I was told that there were more US presidents who were Episcopalian than any other denomination.  I was appropriately impressed.  We were the church of the establishment. If you were an important member of your community, odds were, you went to the Episcopal Church. Alas, what no one told me was that since 1945, only 2 presidents have been Episcopalians, only one in my lifetime.  We are no longer the church of the establishment.  There are a lot of people who mourn that loss.  There are many days when I do, even though I have never actually experienced the church as a powerful church.  It would be a lot easier to be part of church whose name people could actually pronounce. 
But you know what….I don’t think Jesus ever meant for it to be easy.  I think that if Jesus wanted his church to be a church that held worldly power, he probably would not have been born in a barn to a poor unmarried couple. He told Pilate, “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep be from being handed over to the Jews.”  In saying that, he was not telling Pilate that his kingdom wasn’t this world.  Of course it is.  He was saying that he did not choose to wield his power in the same way that earthly kings did.  Could he have created an army and taken the Romans by force? Of course he could have.  He could have raised a dead army to fight. But he chose not to, because that was not what power looked like to him.  Power didn’t come from a weapon or a throne, it came from the heart.  It came from sacrifice. 
            Of course I wish that the church had more authority and that we could influence public opinion and behavior.  I would like that because we have some important truths to share.  In fact, that is one of the things that Jesus said to Pilate, that he came to testify to the truth and that everyone who belongs to the truth listens to his voice.  My friends, we might not belong to a powerful church, but that does not mean we don’t belong to something or someone powerful. We belong to the truth.  We belong to a King who wore a crown of thorns instead of a crown of gold. His throne was not a gilded chair with velvet cushions.  It was cross covered in his blood. That is the king who we belong to.  I truly believe that the more we can identify with that king, the more authority we will have.  It will not be authority given by worldly leaders whose power is fleeting.  It will be the authority of the King of kings and the Lord of lords. 
While I wish we could just create a new feast day and make that happen, we know that’s not going to work.  It didn’t work in 1925 and it won’t work now.  What we need to do is go back to our roots…not our 1610 roots, but our 33 AD roots.  If we actually follow God’s call to us, a call to sacrifice, a call to love the powerless, the abandoned, and the ignored, then we won’t need to claim authority.  We won’t need to sit in the highest positions of power, because then, we will be standing with the people who matter.  Then people will listen to us.  The world will notice. The world will change because we belong to the truth.

Sunday, November 11, 2018

Let Your Praise Be Your Protest: Nov. 11 2018


Year B, Pentecost 25                                                
Psalm 146                                                                              

            I often direct people to the Psalms when they are struggling with prayer. Many times people need direction in prayer and get insecure about what they are saying or they are simply overwhelmed with the enormity of it all. I understand because I sometimes feel the same way.  The great thing about the psalms is that they encompass virtually every human emotion: anger, envy, frustration, joy, fear and utter desolation.  While there are 150 psalms to cover all the emotions, often times you will encounter several contrasting emotions in one psalm. I like it because it is true to life.  One moment you are on top of the world, the next moment you are asking God to vanquish your enemies.  Some days are like that.
            Earlier in the week, I had planned to preach on the Gospel.  It’s a familiar text and an important message.  However, then I read about another mass shooting.  The Gospel wasn’t going to work and I prayed the psalm appointed for this day might lead me. I thought, surely this will be a Psalm of Lament, or one of those good fist shaking “why is this happening” kind of psalms.  Nope. “Hallelujah! Praise the Lord, O my soul!” It goes on like that.  The whole thing is a psalm of praise.  It is very inconvenient.  Yet the more I read the psalm, and the more I read about it, the more appropriate it seemed. 
            In general there isn’t a lot of certainty about the psalms.  Tradition tells us that King David wrote the psalms, but this is unlikely.  We are also unsure when the psalms were written.  They were most likely written after the Babylonian exile.  Some of the psalms allude to a specific event or enemy or a generalized event (like war or betrayal).  Most of the Psalms of Lament end on a note of praise and there will be an explanation as to what the praise is about.  Yet Psalm 146 does not reference a miraculous event or a saving act.  It praises God for being God. 
            One of the slight detours this psalm takes is a warning not to put trust in earthly rulers.  It doesn’t give a specific reason why nor does the author refer to a specific ruler.  We are not to put our trust in any human ruler.  Now we are days after the election. In the months preceding the election, we had all kinds of people and groups telling us who to trust and who not to trust-- providing copious reasons not to trust a specific candidate, or even an entire political party.  Yet none of these smear campaigns tried the reasoning that the author of this psalm provided.  Don’t trust human rulers because they eventually die.  They are mortal.  Even if they are a great ruler worthy of our trust, their thoughts and leadership die with them.  It would have been an interesting angle for a political campaign to take.
            But then again this psalm isn’t about a specific leader. It’s not about a specific event.  It’s about what it means to praise God and believe in a God worthy of our praise.   You might hear this psalm and think, well clearly the author of this psalm wasn’t living in a time like ours, when things are complicated and someone is getting shot every other day for no apparent reason.  Because if he was, he wouldn’t have thought it was that easy to praise God.  While we do not know exactly what was happening when each psalm was written, we know that some pretty bad stuff went down.  If you were to read through all the psalms, you would see many examples of these bad things and the emotions people were experiencing as a result. 
Let me give you some highlights: (Psalm 73) “For all day long I have been plagued, and am punished every morning.” (Psalm 44)  “All day long my disgrace is before me, and shame has covered my face.”  Or the one that Jesus quoted as he was dying, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (22). I could go on and on with these kinds of cheery verses.  Bad stuff happened to the people of God in the Bible, just as it is happening today.
            In reading about the psalms, I read a comment that really got my attention, “Praise of God is sometimes an act of discipline.”[1]  It’s not supposed to be easy.  It’s not supposed to be something that we only do when things are going our way and we are grateful to God for all the blessings in our life. We can’t just believe in a good God when things are going our way and when all is right in the world.
So what are we to do about the realities of the world we are living in?  Are we supposed to just grin and bear it when our Jewish brothers and sisters are shot down while praising God, or when college student are killed taking line dancing classes like they were last week?  Of course not.  We don’t praise God because of what is happening.  We praise God in spite of it.  We praise God as a form of protest to what is going on around us.  Praising God reminds us that we have a loving and caring God, a God who gives justice to the oppressed, food to the hungry, sets the prisoners free, opens the eyes of the blind and cares for the stranger, the orphan and the widow.  When our human leaders let us down (and they will, because they are humans---and some of them are very flawed humans), we cannot lose hope.  Our hope is not based in the might of our nation nor the state of our economy.  Our hope is not even based on how safe we can keep our citizens.
            “Praise the Lord, O my soul!” What does that kind of praise mean? It means to praise the Lord from the depth of our being…to praise the Lord with the same breath that gives us life.  Every time someone is killed, they are robbed of their breath, that breath that allows them to praise the Lord. We still have breath.  We still have life.  Praise the Lord, not because we are pleased with what is happening in our nation and our world, but in spite of it.  Let your praise be your protest. 
            And I know how hard that is. Praising God is part of my job description and I still find it difficult in the midst of violence and hatred.  There will be moments when we can’t praise God and instead we pray Psalm 13, “How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” There have been many moments over the last several years when I have asked, “How long?”  Yet let us not forget how Psalm 13 ends. “But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.”
            Now is not the time to give up on God or Christian hope.  Now is the time to declare to all who will listen who our God is.  Our God is a God of love and compassion.  Our God gives hope to the hopeless.  Let our praise be our protest to the hate and agony that surrounds us.  We may lament.  We may cry and yell. But let praise be the final word. 


[1] Beth Tanner http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3825