Reign of Christ, Year C
Grace Lutheran Church
Lakeland, FL
November 20, 2022
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Psalm 46
Colossians 1:11-20
Luke 23:33-43
Grace to you and peace from God and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus, the Christ. Please pray with me. … Amen.
Well, here we are – Christ the King Sunday. They didn't teach us much about Christ the King Sunday in seminary; it's a relatively new feast day in the church. It was instituted in 1925 by Pope Pious XI, who created it for political reasons. You see, he wanted to remind Christians that our allegiance was to our spiritual ruler in heaven, Jesus Christ, as opposed to any earthly ruler, which at the time in Italy was Benito Mussolini.
Royalty and kingship is not something that we Americans understand very well. We tend to think about royalty in very materialistic terms, castles and jeweled crowns, money and power. Many Americans admired Queen Elizabeth, but we really don't understand what all the fuss is about. And what does all that pomp and circumstance of royalty have to do with Jesus?
In today's Gospel, we heard a story that we often hear on Good Friday. Jesus, had just ridden into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. He had been greeted by thousands of people cheering and waving palm branches, and then was accused of blasphemy by the Temple leaders, arrested by Roman guards and tried for treason by Pontius Pilate. Of course, Jesus is innocent; Pilate can't find any reason to execute him. But people are fickle, and the crowd now demands that Jesus be executed. So Pilate, not willing to risk a riot, lets them have their way. He sentences Jesus to die on the cross with two other common criminals.
He was taken to a hill outside of the city where so many were taken to die, the place was nicknamed, “The Skull.” And as he is nailed up on the cross, Jesus could be heard praying for forgiveness, forgiveness not for himself – but for the people who were about to kill him: for the religious leaders who trumped up charges against him; for Pilate who didn't lift a finger to save him; for the soldiers who were pounding nails in his hands; and for the people in the crowd who took such delight in watching him die.
“Father forgive them, because they do not know what they are doing.”
In the final hours of his life, Jesus was ridiculed.
“Save yourself, if you really are the Messiah,” the religious leaders said.
“If you're really a king, save yourself,” the government authorities laughed.
“Save yourself, and while you're at it, save us, too,” the criminal taunted.
Save yourself and the rest of us, Jesus. Please!
And then it happened. In the midst of all of the lies and torture, in the midst of all of the humiliation and ridicule, in the midst of the most horrific betrayal of justice in history, it happened.
One person stood up for Jesus. The other robber who was condemned to die, the one who was hanging right by his side, spoke up and defended Jesus. And with his last few breaths, he begged for his own forgiveness. “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.”
“Your kingdom.” There, in the midst of all the evil of the world, one sinner recognized Jesus as his king.
It's interesting that while some churches remember this day at “Christ the King” Sunday, others simply call it, “The Reign of Christ.” The emphasis is placed not on Jesus’ authority over us, which as the Son of God he is perfectly entitled to, but on the fact that his reign, his kingdom is vastly different from, indeed dare I say diametrically opposed to, anything else here.
He is a king who rules not by his power over us, but by his example for us. A king who rules not by legal or military decree, but by the law of love and forgiveness. A king who judges us not according to our sinfulness, but by his mercy and faithfulness. A king who suffered and died for us, so that by our baptisms, we might live in him. He is a king who lives not in some great capital city, but as close in our hearts as our next breath.
He is our king, not because he demands loyalty and fealty, but because the kingdom he brings is one of grace and mercy and abundance and generosity.
My friends, there are two questions I want you to think about this week as you gather with your friends and families for Thanksgiving. What does it mean to live within the Reign of Christ? And when does his reign begin?
Archbishop Oscar Romero, a martyr who was assassinated in 1980 while celebrating mass was killed because he dared to speak out against the social injustice and violence that escalated during the conflict between the military government his country and the left-wing insurgents that challenged them. Not long before he died, he had this to say about our role in Reign of Christ:
“It helps, now and then, to step back and take the long view. The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts. It is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us….We may never see the end results. But that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future that is not our own.”
“Prophets of a future that is not our own.” That's a pretty good way of describing our calling as followers, subjects, of Jesus Christ – to proclaim, by our words and actions, the kingdom of Jesus Christ. And to invite those we meet to also subject themselves into his reign of love.
It's not about who wins or loses; it's not about who has the most money or missiles. It's about how we live our lives day to day with Christ as our center, our compass. How we are kingdom-bearers in a world that is starving for the love and mercy of Christ. How we are not only “prophets of a future that is not our own,” but also stewards of that entrusted to us for the sake of the world around us.
As for the second question: When does the Reign of Christ begin? Let's go back to second robber in the Gospel:
“We indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
Jesus replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
My friends, the reign of Christ is revealed to the world by every word we say and every act we do. And it begins right here and right now. In the words of St. Benedict, “Always, we begin again.”
This is the mercy of the Kingdom that Jesus brings. This time of year is a threshold of sorts, isn’t it. We have lived through 11 months, we are beginning the holiday – that is the holy day season. In the church today is New Year’s Eve – the New Year starts next Sunday the first Sunday of Advent. And we prepare to turn the page on our calendars to the new year, 2023 beginning with January.
January was named for the Roman god, Janus. Janus had two faces, each looking in opposite directions. One looked forward and one looked to the past.
Looking to the past we recall God’s faithfulness over the year and the years and the generations. We recall the saints who have gone before us and on whose shoulders we stand. Looking ahead we envision the coming year and the future beyond. The joys it will bring, how Jesus’ reign will be made manifest, how we will be part of that reign. How our lives will show forth the mercy and grace and abundance and generosity of God. Always we begin again.
Amen.
