“The Kingdom of Truth.” A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Christ the King Sunday

"The Kingdom of Truth"

John 18:33-38

            In 1925, Pope Pius XI instituted a new liturgical observance:  the Feast of Christ the King. The Pope felt that the followers of Christ were being lured away by the increasing secularism of the world. They were choosing to live in the “kingdoms” of the world, rather than in the reign of God.

            This last Sunday of the church year is Christ the King Sunday.  We prepare to begin a new church year next week. On the First Sunday of Advent, the coming of Jesus, not only in Bethlehem, but the second coming as well, we pause and reflect upon who Jesus the Christ is in our lives.

            Truth be told, the language of “king” and “kingdom” troubles a lot of people these days. As Jill Duffield points out, “it creates a stumbling block to seeing God.  Male. Dominating. Subjugating. Hierarchical….”  Those of us who live in the United States of America remember that back in 1775 we declared our independence from a king and fought a war of independence.  

            So…what do we do with Christ the King Sunday?  These days, we also call it “Reign of Christ” Sunday. We talk about “the kin-dom of God. “But how do we talk about Christ as King of our lives?

            The scripture texts appointed for this week give good clues for where to start.  The Revelation gives a beautiful glimpse into the glorious, majestic, all-encompassing power of the Risen Christ.  John the Evangelist proclaims that the One we worship, the Lord of all, poured himself out to the point of death on a cross.  

            Today’s gospel lesson is set in Pontius Pilate’s dusty headquarters in Jerusalem.  Pilate, an officer of the Roman Empire, looks over the ragged street preacher.   The Jewish religious authorities have turned Jesus over to be tried by the Roman authorities.   It is Pilate’s job to decide whether or not Jesus is a threat to the Empire.

            “Are you the king of the Jews?”   Pilate asks.

            Jesus answers, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?”

            Pilate replies, “I am not a Jew-- am I?   Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.  What have you done?”

            Jesus answers, “My kingdom is not from this world.  If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.  But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

            Pilate asks, “So you are a king?”

            Jesus answers, “You say that I am.  But ‘king’ is your word.  My task is to bear witness to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

            Pilate then answers, “What is truth?”
            Of course, “What is truth?” has everything to do with Jesus as king, for Jesus is the truth.
            Dr. Emilie Townes makes a helpful distinction between the more intellectual understanding of truth (which Pilate represents in this passage) and truth as revelation, which we find in Jesus Christ.[1]
            Dr. Townes writes, “We must seek to know God and live as active witnesses on this journey into God.  Jesus’ life and mission is a model of this for us. In Jesus, we learn that truth is a stimulant for faithful living and witness, rather than only a matter for contemplation. It is something we do.”
            What Pilate misses-- what most of the world misses-- is that Jesus’ Kingdom was never a place, but a perspective…never an established rule, but a stated reality of how to live life.  It was never about hierarchy or domination, but a way of interpreting the world and embodying Jesus’ gospel truth in everything we do.
            This is a counter-cultural way to live. We’re socialized to trust in the kinds of kingdoms that aren’t interested in the Truth at all, but who tell half-truths, false truths, fake truths that tap into our insecurities and our fears. It might be easier to live under authority, rather than turning away from that and living into the way of truth and justice for all.
            The gospels tell us what happens when oppressive, unjust kingdoms are confronted for their wrongs and defied for their abuses-- you can end up like Jesus. Or Dietrich Bonhoeffer… or Dr Martin Luther King…or Archbishop Romero.  We know when we stand up to privilege, those with power and privilege will want to shut us up.
            When you stand up to the workings of the world’s kingdoms that rely on sexism, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, classism, or able-ism to survive, expect to be silenced. When you stand up to the injustices of the kingdoms at hand that survive because of thrive on fear, expect to be discredited and disregarded.[2]
            The kingdoms of this world use power and privilege to keep people in their place.  But Jesus’ Kingdom tells the truth about the Truth-- that God so loves the world.
            Jesus Christ, our Savior, the one who was betrayed, arrested, beaten, mocked, and taken before Pilate, tells the ruler with the power to kill him, “My kingdom is not of this world.” When he could have spared himself, Jesus chose truth over safety, saying, “I came to testify to the truth. Whoever belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”
            In a time when there are so many lies, those of us who worship Christ the King are called to testify to the truth.

As followers of Jesus, we are called to listen to his voice and to live in his way of truth and love. We are called to love God and our neighbors, to work for peace and reconciliation and justice for all, to embody the love of Jesus Christ in all our relationships. As we grow in faith toge

            In our Presbyterian and Reformed tradition, our understanding of baptism emphasizes God’s initiative.  God reaches out graciously to us, and offers us the gift of life in the kingdom as a free gift.  We respond by dedicating our lives to Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior and committing ourselves to follow him.  Baptism is the beginning of our life in the church…a first step in a journey that takes a lifetime.

ther, we trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us, to lead us further into the truth, and to empower us to live into God’s Kingdom.   Through the guidance and power of the Holy Spirit, we teach and encourage each other to live in the way of God’s love.

One of the great joys of the Christian life is when parents present their children for baptism.  This is their public declaration that they want their child to be a part of the church and to have a ministry in it. 

            Baptism is central to our identity as Christians.    As we live into our baptism, we learn who we are and whose we are.  We are nurtured to see ourselves as beloved children of God, and that can make all the difference!

            The baptismal font stands at the front of sanctuary to remind us that we’ve been initiated into this congregation, as well as into the universal church of Jesus Christ. 

            When parents and a congregation baptize children, we all promise to teach them who they are in the light of God’s truth.  We promise to teach them what makes them different as part of a holy people…a royal priesthood…consecrated to God’s service.  

            When parents present their child for baptism, they promise to live the Christian faith themselves, and to teach that faith to their children, by word and example.  To grow in the faith, we all need to worship and learn together—in our families, and in the faith community which is the church.  

            Today, we’re inviting Khalil to be part of the great adventure we call church.

            What God will make of Khalil’s life, or where God will lead him, or what kind of ministry he will have, we don’t know.

            But what we do know…what we can say with certainty, because we have God’s PROMISE—is that God is with us every step of the way.

            May God bless Khalil and his family…and all of us on our adventure, as we live into God’s Kingdom together!

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

November 25, 2018

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[1] Emilie M. Townes, “Theological Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 4: Season after Pentecost 2 (Propers 17)  Reign of Christ

[2] I’m grateful to Caroline Lewis for her insights in “The True Kingdom” at Working Preacher. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5252

“When Did We See You, Jesus?” A Sermon on Christ the King Sunday on Matthew 25:31-46

"When Did We See You, Jesus?"

Matthew 25:31-46

         Children on the playground pick teams. Littlefield folk sort ourselves into teams for feather bowling. Fans of the Harry Potter series can’t help thinking about the sorting hat. “Gryffindor! “Hufflepuff!” “Ravenclaw!” “Slytherin!”  A place for everyone and everyone in their place.

            As Jill Duffield points out, sorting has been part of human experience forever. “Before there were nations, there were tribes, different languages, different cultural practices, varied roles within the group, all designed to make sure people stayed in their lane.”[1]

           

            We may think we know all we need to know about the neighbor with the political yard sign that disagrees with our view. We sort people according to where they get their news.

            I think Jill Duffield could be right when she says we like being sorted.  It keeps things neater, less stressful. We don’t need to worry about being challenged, changed, or made uncomfortable. There have been some books written about this is recent years.  The Big Sort explores how a growing number of people have been segregating themselves, choosing to live in communities with others who share their views.[2] :  The more people confine themselves to likeminded company, the more extreme their views become, the more polarized society become.

            According to a 2014 Pew study of over 10,000 Americans, the most politically engaged on each side of the spectrum see those in the “other party” not just as wrong, but as “so misguided that they threaten the nation’s well-being. Compared to the past, each side also increasingly gets its news from its own television channels and websites. And so, the divide widens.[3]

            The scriptures tell us that God sorts, too.  Jesus talks about the sorting that will come at the end of the age.   Good fish and bad fish, separating the wheat from the chaff, the wheat and the weeds…good fruit from bad fruit. And, in today’s lesson, separating the sheep from the goats.

            The passage opens with a vivid description of the Son of Man’s coming in glory, seated on his throne. The nations are gathered and sorted into two groups. Jesus is portrayed as a shepherd, which is an image Matthew uses throughout his Gospel.

            In ancient Palestine, it was common to have mixed flocks. At night, the shepherd would have separated the sheep from the goats.  Sheep enjoyed the open air of the pasture, while goats had to be protected from the cold. Because sheep had more commercial value, they were preferred over goats. As shepherd, the glorious Son of Man now separates the sheep from the goats.[4]

            Today, some people sort themselves by choosing neighborhoods, churches and schools where people look like them, act like them, and don’t question their values and choices by their presence or viewpoints.     If we get to know somebody whose first language isn’t English, whose skin is a different color, who follows a different religious path, who votes differently, or who questions our church’s positions, if we form relationships and have honest and civil conversations with them, we need to acknowledge our prejudices and see the humanity in groups we have seen as “other.”  We need to learn how to talk about why we believe what we believe in a respectful and civil manner.  We need to listen when others share their experiences and beliefs. That’s hard work.

            A lot of people sort themselves to stay with people like themselves. But I don’t think God sorts like that. 

            So, what does this passage mean?  The way Matthew tells it, this is Jesus’ last formal act of teaching.  We hear that the Son of Man will separate the sheep and the goats. For the sheep, the news is good. They’re given a divine blessing and told they are the true heirs of God’s kingdom because they provided food, drink, hospitality, clothing, and care for the Son of Man. The goats were condemned because they did none of these acts of mercy.

            I wondered: is this a traditional morality tale about how those who do good deeds are rewarded    and those who don’t are punished?   Is that what this is?

           

            The sheep had no idea that, in their acts of compassion toward people in need, they were ministering to the Son of Man.  They were stunned and exclaimed, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and took care of you?” 

            The goats had no idea that, in their indifference, they were neglecting the Lord of all nations.  “When was it when we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and didn’t take care of you?”

            The surprising reply is that whenever they acted--or failed to act--in compassion to one of “the least”, they did so to Jesus Christ.

           

            So…where’s the good news in this parable?

            I was wondering about this when I read what a colleague wrote about how she visits her doctor every year for a complete physical examination. Much as she might want to avoid it, heart disease runs in her family, so she has a wellness exam. If her LDL cholesterol level is on the rise, she knows to cut down on the cookies and other treats and to add a few extra miles to her daily routine. If they would find a lump, she’d go in for more assessment and take steps needed to treat it, to regain her health, and ensure long-term wellness.

            In many ways, she says, Matthew’s depiction of the last judgment is like a wellness check. “Its purpose is not to condemn or scare, but to provide a snapshot of our overall health, development, learning, and growth that should lead to new habits and ways of life.  As our doctor wants us to flourish, so does our Creator, Redeemer, Judge, and King.”[5]

            As human beings, we all have a tendency to a kind of heart trouble that gets in the way of seeing the face of Christ in those in prison, the hungry and the sick.

            These words of Jesus are profound and radical. They challenge us as individuals when we encounter somebody asking for money in the grocery store parking lot or on the street. After all, we can’t help everyone. Most of us don’t have either the money or the time. Anyway, how do we tell who is truly needy and who simply wants money to buy drugs or a bottle of cheap wine?  

            We need to remember that this passage tells us that the nations will be judged by how compassionately--or not-- we treat those who are in need.

            God created the world out of an abundance of love.  God is love, and repeatedly and generously pours love out upon all people.   God sent Jesus to come and live among us, full of grace and truth, teaching and showing us what it means to be created in God’s image.

            In particular, we are called to love those are seem unable to give back. We are called to love our neighbors in need-- not to earn God’s love or to make sure we’re considered righteous at the time of judgment. We are called to give as a response to the love that is in us because God first loved us.

            Anne Lamott tweeted, "Who was it who said that to get into heaven, you needed a letter of recommendation from the poor? What a buzzkill."
            It may sound that way until you feed, clothe, visit, and welcome some of the least of these yourself. Then you realize they have as much dignity and humanity as anyone else. You begin to see that we are just as vulnerable to the ups and downs of life as they are, and our heart enlarges because of it.  Then you realize:  It's not really about charity-- it’s about conversion. 

            God is a God of surprises!  God came to be Immanuel--“God-with-us” -- in the form of a vulnerable infant.  God didn’t come to conquer the world with military or political might, but instead, in the scandal, shame, and pain of the cross.  God continues to come where we least expect God to be-- in the plight of the homeless, of refugees, on the side of the poor, in the company of those who are imprisoned.

            “When did we see you, Lord Jesus?”

            The good news is that God is with us, here and now, revealed to us in word and sacrament and in the fellowship of broken people we call church.  God is with us when we go out to embody God’s love in the world, especially when we meet God in acts of mercy and service.

            God is with us, touching our hearts with love, saving us from obsessing about ourselves and our needs   and encouraging us to search for the face of God in the faces of those in need. God is with us, teaching us to take joy in acts of compassion and mercy.

            Thanks be to God!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

November 26, 2017

           

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[1] Jill Duffield, “Looking Into the Lectionary: Christ the King Sunday, November 26, 2017”, in The Presbyterian Outlook. http://pres-outlook.org/category/ministry-resources/looking-into-the-lectionary/

[2] Bill Bishop and Robert G. Cushing, The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded Americans Is Tearing Us Apart. (Houghton Mifflin), 2008.

[3] Arlie Russell Hochschild, Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right (The New Press, 2016).

[4] Thomas D. Stegman, SJ, in Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 4: Season After Pentecost. Kindle version, Location 12013.

[5] Lindsay P. Armstrong, in Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 4: Season after Pentecost. Kindle version, Location 12022.

"When Did We See You, Jesus?" Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Matthew 25:31-46 on Christ the King Sunday

 

"When Did We See You, Jesus?"

Matthew 25:31-46

Today’s Gospel lesson is sometimes known as the parable of “the sheep and the goats”…  or as “the last judgment.”

            The passage we heard today is Jesus’ last formal act of teaching, and it sums up the major theological themes of Matthew’s gospel by presenting a majestic picture of the triumphant Jesus reigning in glory as king and judge at the end of time.  The Jesus who earlier in the gospel “had nowhere to lay his head” is now seated on the royal throne as king.  Jesus who was rejected even by his hometown is now exalted as the judge. 

            The Son of Man pronounces judgment on the sheep and the goats.  For the sheep—the righteous-- the news is good.  They’re given a divine blessing and told they will inherit the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world.  To those at his left hand he will say “depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

Now, some people might hear this as a story meant to scare us into being righteous.  But if we interpret it that way, we might miss Jesus' plea for us to see.

Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty and give you something to eat or drink?  When did we see you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?  When did we see you sick or in prison and visited you?"           

Jesus makes it clear that we will not literally see him. We will see or fail to see him in "the least of these" brothers and sisters in our midst. Jesus longs for us to see.  But seeing—really seeing—isn’t easy. 

Some might say that we've seen too much—too many photos of Syrian refugee children living in wretched conditions… too many people living in extreme poverty in Africa or Haiti… too many people lined up on the sidewalk waiting for the soup kitchen to open in our cities.

Some say we've been desensitized, our capacity for compassion short-circuited and overloaded.  We tell ourselves that our guilt won't feed anybody. Yet, the truth is that thousands of people who may have never thought much about hunger have been moved to donate money for food and medical supplies after seeing pictures on the news.  Seeing the people and seeing their needs can change peoples' hearts.

I think we’re seeing an increase in fear and distrust of people who are different.  We’ve been hearing some public officials and candidates for office wanting to put the brakes on welcoming Syrian refugees  and talking about special security tracking and ID’s for Muslims and building big walls on our borders. 

Yesterday the Presbytery of Detroit considered a motion from First Presbyterian Church in Ann Arbor to communicate with our elected officials, to tell them our faith calls us to welcome immigrants and that we want to give support to Syrian refugees in our country.  Although the motion passed, we heard in the debate a real mix of compassion and hospitality—and also fear.

 We’ve heard different political, financial, and logistical reasons for not welcoming refugees to the United States.   But no biblical or theological or faith reasons. 

When did we see you, Lord?

Whether we call the adversary Satan or the devil or evil or something else, I believe Satan wants to divide humanity and to instill hatred, and distrust.   We’re  tempted to demonize innocent people and falsely accuse them of being violent, evil, and dangerous.  We’re tempted to do nothing, to protect ourselves, and to withhold the love of Christ. 

When did we see you?   We learn to look away from the homeless person or quickly maneuver around the man who’s holding out his cup for donations.   We keep our distance.   Maybe we try not to see those people.  

Those people.  Human beings created in God’s divine image.  Individuals who are deeply loved by God.   Those people.

If Christians refuse to accept and help refugees, we are ignoring, misinterpreting, or even rejecting Jesus’ teachings and a variety of other texts throughout the Bible.[1]   Whether we like it or not, those who follow Jesus are called to help the world’s most abused, marginalized, helpless, exploited, and destitute.  We are called to glorify Christ through selfless sacrifice, hospitality, and love.

In an article published this week at Sojourners, Stephen Mattson asks:  “Imagine if Jesus limited his ministry based upon the conditions of comfort and security.”[2] 

Imagine it.  As Mattson imagines it, “There would be no traveling through Samaria—too hazardous.  No interacting with foreigners—too dangerous.  No helping strangers—too risky.  No healing the sick—too unsafe.  No attracting crowds—to insecure.  No performing miracles—too perilous.  No public speaking—too unprotected.  No giving to the poor—too wasteful.  No interacting with outcasts—to socially unacceptable.  No disciples—too untrustworthy.  No generosity—generosity—too wasteful.  No grace—too weak.  No forgiveness—too soft.  No death on the cross—too painful (to say the least). 

“If Jesus used the same stipulations for love that we do, the gospel never would have existed, because almost every single experience Jesus put himself  in required risk, sacrifice, and vulnerability.  And instead of being fueled by fear, Jesus was fueled by hope.”[3]

“When did we see you, Jesus?”

In a recent letter to the Presbyterian Church, our Stated Clerk, Gradye Parson, asks us to “Choose welcome, not fear.”[4]   Gradye  recognizes that we are a world grieving, following the most recent terrorist attacks, but we can choose how to react in our grief and fear. 

If we hear today’s gospel lesson as something to make us feel guilty… to get us to do what we should—we may not hear it as good news. 

But I believe today’s lesson is part of Jesus’ call to new life, a call to a new relationship with God, a new way to practice religion, and a call to follow Jesus in the way of love.  I think Jesus is trying to get us to think about what’s important in the Kingdom of God.

 Jesus wants us to know that God is here with us, in the messiness and ambiguities and fears of human life.  God is here, in your neighbor, in the one who needs you.  Do you want to see the face of God?  Look into the face of one of the least of these—the vulnerable, the weak, the stranger.  We are called to live in a community based on the God-given dignity and value of every human being.   

            In Matthew’s description of the final judgment, there’s not one word about believing certain things or following special religious practices.  We will be judged by whether or not we see Christ in the face of those in need and whether or not you give yourself away in love, in Christ’s name.

            God wants to save us by touching our hearts with love.  God wants to save us by teaching us to see the face of Christ in the faces of strangers and those in need and persuading us to care about them.  God wants to save us from obsessing about our own needs and safety and fears and free us to live in compassion and hope.

            On Christ the King Sunday,   we meditate on God’s power and the reign of God.  We look forward to Advent, a time when we ponder the mystery of the incarnation:  God embodied in a helpless baby born in a humble stable…    God on the cross, dying, in sacrificial, self-giving love. These are images of a very vulnerable God.   This is a very different kind of king, with a different kind of power.

            As we move through Advent, we practice waiting.  We hope.  And we ponder the mystery of a God so in love with us that he came to be one of us.  He came into the world as a baby, a love-child, in whom God shows us just how far God will go to save us, and heal us, and set us free.

            Come, Lord Jesus!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church 

Dearborn, Michigan

November 22, 2015

           

             

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[1] Jeremiah 22:3-5; Zechariah 7:8-10; Isaiah 16:4; Matthew 25:34-40; Hebrews 13:1-2; James 2:5

[2] Stephen Mattson, “Rejecting Refugees, Rejecting Christ.  https://sojo.net/print/217698

[3] Mattson.

[4] Gradye Parson, “Choose welcome, not fear.” http://www.pcusa.org/news/2015/11/17/choose-welcome-not-fear/