Christ the King

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Feast of Christ the King
November 24, 2019
The Rev. John Taliaferro Thomas
 
After a gospel like that, the normal response is silence.  When we read that on Good Friday, we don’t even try and respond.  The two thieves on Jesus’ left and right at the crucifixion are bit players in a large drama, but in just one brief exchange, they reveal the gambit of human responses to God, and reveal less of an explanation of how salvation works than they do the pure grace that is Jesus personified.
 
Today is called Christ the King Sunday.  And those who have a problem with the relativism of monarchy, monarchical language, patriarchy, and all the worldly baggage that comes with kingship or kinghood call it The Reign of Christ Sunday.  Whatever, of all of the traditions we observe on the churchy calendar, this one is a relative newbie.  One of the Popes Pious claimed this focal point in 1925.  It is the end of the Church year.  We start over in telling the story of Jesus with Advent that starts next Sunday.  I know, who has time for Advent when we are busy getting ready for Christmas, but that is next week’s conversation.
 
Back in 1925, good old Pope Pious the wateverth, observed that we had seen plenty of the mess that the principalities and powers of the world had wrought on humanity.  In the Great War, we had seen such great advances in technology that we had more and more effective ways to destroy humanity quickly and efficiently.  We had seen nationalism provide people with great reasons to hate whoever was not on their team.  We saw particular ethnic and religious groups being singled out as the cause of all problems.  We saw a fragile peace, born of idealism, crumble and disintegrate in the economic and territorial power grab that forged unholy alliances.
 
What started in the Roman Catholic Church caught on across the faith spectrum.  For sure, it was time to come home, as it were, and acknowledge that there must be a higher order of loyalty and priority.  Rather than running to kindred, tribe, and nation, we were pointed to the eternal Truth of Jesus as the one and only unity for humanity.  And because we are loath to get that, we return again to Jesus at the cross, blowing up whatever earthly images of power and glory we misappropriate as celebrity and authority.
 
It is a brief snapshot of Jesus’ last hour.  The bit players are thieves: one on the right and one on the left.  Various traditions have named them Dismas and Demas, but that is unimportant.  What matters is their very human reactions to meeting God in a moment of desperation. 
 
The first says: “Are you not the Messiah?  Save yourself and us.”  He raises a good point, recognizing that Jesus has the power to work wonders.  But he wants a temporary magical savior, one that leverages his God powers to give him what he wants.  We have all been there.  We ask God to get us out of a jam, to prove that God is on our side, and alleviate our immediate need.  We call those arrow prayers, shot to heaven to fix whatever vexes us.  Such prayers tend to reveal more about us than God.
 
Before Jesus can respond, the other thief snaps back.  Recognizing that they are being duly punished for their crimes, he commends Jesus complete innocence, only asking to be remembered when he comes into his kingdom.  Tradition calls him the honest thief.  Anyone else recognize the irony in that moniker?  Nevertheless, he is the one who owns his own fate and sees Jesus for who he is: an innocent, suffering servant.  His prayer is not for earthly goodies, rather for belonging with the one who is pure love.
 
Jesus replies: “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”  Lots of folks assume he is speaking to the one “honest thief,” – the one who repents, or at least confesses his guilt.  But in reality, Jesus is speaking to the both of them, to everyone the cross, and through time and sacred memory, to us.  What makes Jesus King of all is not that he hands out golden tickets to heaven only to those who say the right things, say all of the right things, or follow all the right signs.  His words and his embrace are wider and deeper than that.  What he shows and tells in this crucial moment is that we are with him forever in paradise -- not because of who we are, what we do, or what we say, but because of who Jesus is for all of us.  We can show him to door, slam the door on him over and over, and even nail him to the door, but he will not leave us for dead.
 
Good old Pope Pious thought we needed to remember that one and central fact regularly, so he slid in this observance as a reminder.  Given the events of the past week, as our various elected officials scratch and claw at scions of earthly power, a good hard look at purity, true love in person, is important and formative.  If we place our faith in whatever governors we believe or support, if we plow our energy into backing flawed humanity as salvific, we are bound to be disappointed.  As we look to the Lord, the King, the Servant of All, none of the power titles really fit completely, but the person and work of Jesus is does: as real authority, true goodness, and all grace embodied.
 
As we go to the Thanksgiving tables of our homes and families, may we keep Jesus in mind in our gratitude.  We worship and celebrate our belonging not to a particular clan, but to a God of all: One who is crazy about us and for us.  We are, all together, and bound for Glory.
 
Then we sang this as traveling music….
Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;
Through the storm, through the night,
Lead me on to the light:
Take my hand, precious Lord,
Lead me home.
 
Amen.