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The
Ruling Concerns of Your Life Gospel:Matthew
22:15-22 I wonder how many of you are aware of what an ironic thing it is to celebrate a Sunday called “Christ the King.” Now I’m perfectly aware that from the perspective of our own time and place in human history, we consider it an honor to assign that title to Jesus. We mean to say by our use of the title, King, that Jesus is exalted about all the rest of earth’s creation; that Jesus is the one whose rank and status place Him at the very top of the list for greatness, respect, and power. That’s all very well, but the irony is this: in the time and culture in which Jesus Himself lived among us, exactly the opposite notion of Kingship was the norm. In the long tradition of the Hebrew people, Kings were not perceived in a positive, popular way. Egypt had its Pharaoh, Rome its Emperor and Babylon its Potentate, but the Hebrews viewed all of them with anger, dread, and suspicion. Why? Because they were all absolute monarchs, usually enthroned simply because of an accident of birth, and all made preposterous claims either to having connections to the Gods or of themselves being divine. Not only did the Hebrews reject out of hand any notion that someone other than God alone could be the ultimate source of all truth and power but, in fact, considered that no one except the most dishonest, lazy, unworthy, and unproductive would even be interested in the job of being an earthly King. In short, the vast majority of Hebrews had little regard for Kings. You can, perhaps, get a sense of all that from a wonderfully graphic Old Testament parable that reveals just how low was the stock of a King in their eyes. I’ll just give you a short version of the story because in the Book of Judges, Chapter 8, the telling of this parable is much more elaborate, with lots of details provided. Anyway, here’s the basic idea of the Parable of the Trees Who Wanted a King: One day the trees of the forest decided that they should have a King, so they set out to anoint for themselves a ruler. First, they approached the olive tree, saying, “Will you accept the crown and rule over us?” The olive tree laughed and laughed at their foolishness, “What are you trying to do to me? Do you think I would give up my role as the maker of oil that is the glory of Gods and men so I could sit around making an ass of myself, waving a scepter over a bunch of trees?” Next they went to the fig tree but the fig tree told them to get lost. “Do you think that I have become so useless, that I can no longer provide delicious sweets and, therefore, ought to be demoted to just sitting around on a throne for your amusement?” So they went to the vineyards, asking the grapevine to come rule over them. The vine dismissed the whole absurd idea saying, “Mine is the greatest vocation anyone could have---making wine to cheer the lives of Gods and men, and you want me to give that up to prance around in robes, putting on airs to entertain all of you worthless idlers?” So, finally, they went to the thornbush with their invitation to become King of All the Trees. ‘That’s a fine idea,” this useless scoundrel answered, “As long as you do whatever I say, you can gather around me and give homage but, if you disobey even my slightest command, I will blaze up in a roaring fire that will destroy you and engulf even the giant Cedars of Lebanon.” Rather than rule by Kings, the Hebrews, for most of their history, found their leaders from among special individuals who were chosen by popular support and a sense that God had somehow specially prepared this person to provide for God’s People in a particular situation. Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, Ruth, and Gideon are just a few examples of those who were trusted and revered leaders. All of them warned against ever embracing the institution of monarchy. Kings, they warned the people, were dangerously arbitrary, selfish, land-grabbing, tax-collecting, army-raising tyrants. Kings should be resisted at all cost. But, people being people and the changing circumstances of defending an emerging nation-state caused the people of Israel to forget that kind of sound advice. They would have their King. Israel wound up initially with Saul, David, and Solomon who were reasonably acceptable rulers. But they eventually ended up with a pack of second-rate pretenders and weaklings who led them into Roman control and exploitation. By the time of Jesus they found themselves with a King in name only, an embarrassment whom no one wanted or respected. Their ruler, Herod, was a coward and a puppet who took the money and his orders directly from Rome. You might think that this thoroughly unhappy experience would have put the people off the whole idea of a King permanently, but it didn’t. There still burned in the hearts of many the idealistic notion that someday God would send them a great and wonderful King--a monarch who would miraculously restore the Kingdom of David, lifting them out of their present sufferings and making of them a mighty nation, befitting their special status as God’s Chosen People. Every time a promising leader, prophet, or rabbi emerged, they immediately began to ask if this was “the one” and to clamor for his recognition as their King. This whole cultural flirtation with Kingship proved to be a constant nuisance and impediment for Jesus. Throughout the Scriptures describing his life and ministry we find innumerable incidents in which Jesus is urged to proclaim himself their King, often enough so that the Roman authorities took notice and the Jewish powerbrokers grew jealous and sought to have him silenced. Jesus himself consistently rejects the whole notion of Kingship as something totally contrary to what he’s trying to say and do. Jesus prefers the simple, humble, modest titles of “Teacher” or just plain old “Son of Man”--an ordinary person who’s trying to help us understand the nature and purposes of God. So, all that brings us back to the Gospel reading for today. We find Jesus dragged before the authorities who keep pressing the same question on him, “Are you or are you not a King?” Patiently, but firmly, Jesus keeps on responding, “That’s what you seem to think. I’ve never said that.” Jesus tries, unsuccessfully, to get them to focus on a totally different definition of what it might mean to rule over the hearts and minds of people as opposed to exercising earthly power, authority, and control. Well, I think you can easily understand why I speak of “Christ the King” Sunday as an apparently ironic occasion. Here we have a clear record of the rejection of Kingship from the lips of Jesus Himself and yet the Church--two thousand years later--is busy celebrating his Kingship. What’s THAT all about? Since the time of the early Church, following the death of Jesus, Christians have sought to distinguish Jesus from all other noble philosophers and religious prophets. Increasingly the Church assigned to Jesus the most honorific titles imaginable: Lord of Lord, Son of God, King of Kings. Certainly we can understand and affirm the motivation but the affect, over the centuries, has often confused and mislead the world to picture Jesus as a controlling, judging Ruler of the Universe--not the caring, compassionate, healing, accepting, and forgiving one who rule extends into those regions that truly matter most--the hearts and minds of those of us who seek to follow his example of servanthood rather than power. In order to join in the celebration of Christ the King Sunday we have to allow Jesus to lead us into a completely different understanding of Kingship than we would typically imagine. Jesus tells us that His Kingdom is not of this world. It has nothing to do with power and coercion. I want to suggest to you that the Lordship, which Jesus exercises, can best be thought of as what I will call The Ruling Concerns of Your Life. Here’s a way to think about “Christ the King” that I believe makes some sense: Think about the rudder of your ship. What is the force or lever that ultimately determines your decisions, directions, values, aims, and goals. There are lots of possibilities: wealth, fame, fashion, comfort, gambling, success, drugs, popularity, possessions, alcohol, and power--to name but a few. All these Ruling Concerns have a kind of Kingship that can shape and control a person’s whole life--determining who and what you are. These Ruling Concerns will drive you further and further from the God who made you and loves you profoundly. These false Kings can turn you into a slave who must grant them their growing demands and costs. Jesus, on the other hand, offers to anyone who will accept him, a very different set of Ruling Concerns. He tells us that “My yoke is easy and my burden is light,” by which he means his own Ruling Concerns will set your heart on the right path. His Ruling Concerns are those of thankful living, generous and compassionate attention to the needs of others, a life of service that our Prayerbook describes so beautifully as “the life of perfect freedom.” Rather than being enslaved by his unique Kingship, to celebrate Christ as King is to find your own authentic identity and to be released from the prisons of servitude to all those Ruling Concerns that will exploit and destroy us. What an
amazing reversal--a transformation of an idea that has about it the
feel of miracle: Jesus, the one who rejects and resists the
very idea of being called a King turns out to be the only one in all
of history who has any legitimate claim to that title. He stands head
and shoulders above every conceivable alternative, asking you and me
to commit ourselves freely to his rule. In so doing, we commit ourselves
to all that is good and lasting an true--now and for all time to come,
in this world and the next. Gospel:
John 18: 33-37 |
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