Year C, Christ the King Luke 23:33-43
Many of us know the story of Ruby Bridges. Ruby was one of four first-graders selected to integrate two elementary schools in New Orleans in 1960. She was sent alone to William Frantz Public School. Every day she walked into school surrounded by adults screaming threats and insults at her because she had the audacity to attend a school she had every right to be at.
That comes straight from our reading from the Gospel of Luke. Jesus prayed that exact prayer from the cross
as he was slowly dying, while people mocked him and called him, “King of the
Jews.” This is one of the moments when I
want to argue with Jesus. Are you sure
they don’t know what they were doing? These were adults here. Of course they knew what they were
doing. Scholars have debated this line
from the text a great deal. Who is the
they? Is it the soldiers? The leaders who ordered the killing? The crowd? I am not sure that matters. It’s so easy to get lost in the minutiae
rather than accepting the words that are clear—that was Jesus forgiving the
people who were torturing him. One of Jesus’ final acts on this earth was to
show mercy to people who didn’t seem to deserve mercy at all.
This is the last Sunday of what we refer to as ordinary time in
the church year…the last Sunday before the new church year begins…which is
Advent. This Sunday is usually referred
to as Christ the King Sunday. If you
look at the readings, they all have some connection to kings or kingdom. In seminary, about 20 years ago, I was taught
to be wary of this king language. Some
people suggested that instead we refer to this Sunday as “Reign of
Christ.” People were worried that this
king imagery reinforced a hierarchical nature of power rather than the humility
which Jesus consistently displayed. He
was a servant leader rather than a king.
But over the years I have learned more about the origins of this feast
day and I have come to perceive it as one of the more subversive feast days of
the church.
In 1925, Pope Pius created the feast day of Christ the King. It was less than 6 years after World War I
ended, 14 years before the second world war began. It was the very same year that Hitler
published Mein Kampf and Mussolini
became the dictator of Italy. While the
right side had won World War I, totalitarianism was on the rise and the pope
was close enough to see it all. Creating
a feast day to celebrate the kingship of Christ was a way to remind the world
that Christians serve a different kind of king and that king is above all the
leaders of the world, whether they recognize that king or not.
All four Gospels say that there was a sign on the cross that said,
“This is the king of the Jews.” If all 4
Gospels agreed on that, then we can be certain that is an important point. We are so accustomed to hearing this king language
for Jesus, we don’t get too surprised when we read this title. Yet this was probably hysterical to the
people who created that sign.
Crucifixion was a shameful way to die.
It was for common criminals, usually criminals who had upset the Roman
Empire. They used this spectacle to scare people into submission. This is what
happens to people who don’t respect Rome.
Their point was that no real king would die such a death. If he was a
king, an army would have been at his beck and call. He would not have to
suffer.
Here is the great irony of the scene…under that sign that mocked
him, declaring the title ridiculous…he showed what it was to be a real leader. In forgiving the people who killed him and telling
one of the criminals next to him that he would be with him in paradise---he was
showing mercy. Mercy and love is what
defined his kingship, not displays of force or a need to take town the
opposition.
So often in modern Christianity, we allow others to define our
faith. Instead of dismissing the notion of Jesus as a king because of how the
world defines kingship…what if instead, we insist that Jesus is what defines a
king, not the other way around?
I know that many
of us are frustrated by the leadership in our country right now, and those who
aren’t angry now were probably very frustrated a few years ago. There is a part of me that keeps waiting for
that one person to come out the government and be that leader that we all need
and want. We just want someone to save
us, to fix it all. And I agree that we
need better leadership and we need to hold people accountable. But I also think we need to remember that no
person can save us or this country. It
is only God who saves. God also gives us
the strength to save ourselves, so we can help others.
One of the frequent themes in the Old Testament is of the Hebrew
people longing for this amazing king who will save them. God warned them not to rely on a king, but
they refused to listen. They kept
praying for some man to be that perfect king and that person never came. They were always disappointed. God sent Jesus
(a very unexpected king) to show us all that what we want is not always what we
need. The Jewish people wanted an all
powerful Messiah to save them from the Romans, and instead God came to earth as
a human who was then killed by the Romans.
A crucified king who could not save himself, yet somehow saved us all.
That is who we worship.
To many, he died as a failure…but
showing mercy is never failure.
It’s courage. That display of
love and compassion has inspired people throughout history—people like Ruby
Bridges to walk through hoards of people screaming and spitting and still
manage to pray for them. Jesus’ mercy
and love inspired Mother Theresa, Dorthy Day, Oscar Romero, Martin Luther King
and so many whose names we don’t know. It can inspire us all. A king who can
inspire that kind of courage 2000 years after he died, that’s a king worth
worshipping. May God’s mercy and
compassion continue to inspire us to pray for those who wish us harm and find
strength to be the leaders who lead with compassion and mercy.
No comments:
Post a Comment