Words Fail – sermon on November 22, 2015
Daniel 7: 9-10, 13-14 As I looked, “thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His clothing was as white as snow; the hair of his head was white like wool. His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were all ablaze. A river of fire was flowing, coming out from before him. Thousands upon thousands attended him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him. The court was seated, and the books were opened. In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.
John 18: 33-37 Pilate went inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?” “Am I a Jew?” Pilate replied. “Your own people and chief priests handed you over to me. What is it you have done?” Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.” “You are a king, then!” said Pilate. Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.” “What is truth?” retorted Pilate.
Sermon: Words Fail by Reverend Doreen Oughton
This morning’s gospel reading gives us this little snippet of interaction between Jesus and Pilate after Jesus has been arrested by the Temple leaders, transferred to the Roman governor in the hopes that Jesus would be given the death penalty – a privilege reserved for Roman discernment. What the Jewish leaders emphasize here is the charge that Jesus claims to be king of the Jews. They know this charge will get him killed. Rome perceives it as an act of political defiance, to challenge the authority of the true sovereign of the region, the Roman emperor and his appointees. And it was disingenuous of the Temple leaders, for they knew that Jesus was not challenging the Roman leaders. They were angry because he was challenging their authority as religious leader. But that wouldn’t have brought the result they wanted. Pilate would not have been interested in their in-house religious squabbles. And he suspected this was what was going on, so he kept trying to give Jesus back to them to take care of themselves.
Every year the Sunday before Thanksgiving is the last Sunday of the liturgical year, and is identified as Christ the King Sunday, or the Reign of Christ Sunday. Each year, just before we move into Advent, we are invited to remember the sovereignty of Jesus Christ to us as self-identified Christians. And I confess that I have a hard time with some of the passages assigned in this, year B. There is talk of rulership, coming on the clouds, a throne ablaze, a fiery river, thrones, and thousands of servants. I struggle because of the contrast of these images to the way Jesus is described in the Gospels, and to the way I personally experience Jesus. Jesus proclaimed that the kingdom was coming, but never said that he was the king. And did he live like a king? Was he born to even a wealthy family, let alone a royal family? The geneology in Matthew’s gospel connects him to the house of David, declares that he is a descendent of this beloved king, and yet this is on Joseph’s side, and Jesus is not Joseph’s son. Jesus never made any move to take over – not in the Temple and not in the square. When he tried to get people to give money, it was not to him or his disciples, but to others in need. He told his disciples once that he had no place to rest his head – he moved around constantly, never seeking to establish himself even a home in one place, let alone a palace. It seems clear to me that he sought not kingship, but kinship.
Even his challenge to the Temple leaders was not an effort to oust them and take their place. I believe his wish was to help them do better by the people they led, and do better by their own spiritual lives and calling. So yes, it is hard for me to claim that Christ is king. These days it seems that royalty are mere figureheads. And that is not how I see Jesus. But when kings reigned it was with armies behind them, with wealth around them.
And yet there are places where claiming and acting as though Christ is king is still an act that unsettles and challenges those who rule in this world. An Episcopal priest from South Africa tells how his whole church was arrested and put in prison for refusing to obey the law of the land in favor of God’s law. Over 240 people, from babies to 90-year olds were jailed. They understood something that Pilate could never grasp, that the Temple leaders could never wrap their minds around.
As Pilate questions Jesus about the charges, he is not, I believe, really interested in understanding. He is asking for a yes or no answer. Jesus can’t give it to him. Jesus doesn’t have the words that will help any of them understand, not even his own disciples. The people are so attached to their understanding of the world and the way it works that they assume all worlds, even the Beloved Community of God work the same way – the ways of power over, the ways of coercion and submission, the way of hierarchy. Jesus can’t tell them about the kindom, he can only show them. He can show them that in this world, people would fight for power. If his kingdom was of this world, he says, his followers would be fighting. But in the heavenly kindom, there is no fighting. No, in the kindom, one lays down one’s life for others. In the kindom, one doesn’t judge and condemn, but offers mercy and forgiveness, even to one’s enemies, even to those who would take your life. In the kindom, one does not allow fear to dictate one’s actions, but turns always to love. These are the truths Jesus came to testify to, I believe. I’m not sure what he means by “those that belong to the truth listen to my voice.” What does it mean to “belong to the truth?” To align oneself with truth? To be part of the truth?
If the truth is that God is love, and that we are one in God, then belonging to the truth perhaps means accepting that we also are love. And Jesus shows us what love, fully realized, looks like. We listen beyond any words, which are the least effective tools for communicating Divine truth. Words fail to help us understand the ways that Christ is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, so we must listen beyond them – listen to our feelings, our thoughts, images that come to us, our experiences. The words Daniel uses – a fiery throne, and old, white haired man sitting on it – don’t resonate for me, but what if I were able to feel the feelings Daniel had – feelings of awe and reverence, feelings of confidence and joy that goodness and love itself would reign forever?
Pilate did not have the interest, and perhaps not even the imagination to entertain the truth about who and what Jesus was. But perhaps we do. I wonder, if each of us personally asks Jesus, are you a king, or are you my king, what we might feel, what visions might come to us, what unique way Jesus might respond. Shall we take a moment and try before we sing our closing hymn? I invite you to close your eyes, and ask this question, or whatever you want to know. …..
I hope you received some thought or image that comforted you, challenged you, intrigued you, and brought you closer to divine truth. If you would like to share with me sometime, I would love to hear about it.
Before we sing our closing hymn, I want to share a poem that touched me. Words do not fail some people. This is by Steve Gamass-Holmes.
No, you are not a king. You claim no authority, or power. You will not come now or in end times to conquer, to coerce, even to insist. You neither receive nor offer the smugness of supremacy. You are not a king in a beggar’s disguise, but a beggar, not clinging to heaven, but utterly empty, choosing the life of a slave in suffering, weakness and rejection – sure to confuse our earthly delusion. No, you are not a king— but what word do we have for love that can’t be defeated, love that triumphs even in tattered lives, that turns back even our worst sin? What word do I have for the One who stands over all that I fear, whose love orders my life like the laws of physics, whose gravity holds me so? What word do I have for one who so owns me and sets me free, for a love that gives me my life, true and radiant, rising from my own ruins, and— I am powerless over it— makes me want to follow, to obey with all of my being?
