Sermons

Nov 25 - The Rev. Brian C. Taylor - The Feast of Christ the King

The Feast of Christ the King Nov. 25, 2007
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor
Jeremiah 23:1-6, Ps. 46, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

Over Thanksgiving we visited our son in Los Angeles. I got up one morning and was browsing through a tourist magazine in the hotel, and an article caught my eye. It was about an ultra-hip skateboarder in Huntington Beach who had converted to Christianity while doing time in prison. Christian Hosoi is his name.

His signature trick is called “Christ Air:” he soars off the ramp, high up into the air, and at the apex of his flight, he holds his board in one hand and strikes the pose of the crucified Christ. Very cool.

Shortly afterwards, we were walking through the Getty Museum, looking at an exhibit of medieval treasures, most of them religious. Brightly-illuminated gospels and Gregorian chant, crystal crosses, golden reliquaries…but what got my attention was a monstrance - a sun-like stand that holds the consecrated host, to be raised by the priest and worshiped by the faithful.

At the top of the monstrance was a small piece of wood encased in glass. It was, they said, a piece of the original cross. One could, of course, build a city out of all the pieces of wood claimed as such in the Middle Ages, but that doesn’t matter.

So here I was in Los Angeles. A 21st-century outlaw skateboarder from Huntington Beach who flies up above crowds, displaying with his own body the cross of Christ. 12th-century worshipers in stone cathedrals, falling down on their knees before a piece of the true cross of Calvary. Both exercising their faith in Christ.

What struck me was how many different ways there are to relate to Jesus. Every Christian relates to him somehow. After all, when we’re baptized it is said You are marked as Christ’s own forever. Jesus sneaks into our way of looking at things, if we hang around him long enough, and if we’re paying attention - in worship, in Bible reading, even just in the culture that we’re immersed. We belong to him; he’s somewhere in the center of our spiritual life.

But how this happens, what it means to belong to him, what it means for him to occupy a central place in our life – this means many different things to different people. And so it should be.

I’ve related to Jesus in many ways as I’ve changed over the years. As a child, I absorbed stories, songs and symbols before I even knew what they were. In my early twenties, he began to haunt me, tugging at my imagination, offering to fill a void that I was beginning to feel inside.

When things have gone badly, I’ve learned about the cross, forgiveness, uncompromising love, self-denial, and detachment. I take him in to my body and soul in this sacrament, and in prayer, I ask him to live through me. I understand what a radical social critic he is by studying the historical world in which he lived. I’ve been inspired by the examples of others who have been his followers, his saints.

Others relate in other ways. They become born again, or paint icons of Jesus; they join Bible studies, sing his praises in pentecostal reverie, worship his mother, or get PhD’s in biblical studies. It doesn’t matter.

From time to time, some of you make appointments with one of the clergy here or attend our new member classes, so that when you muster up the courage, you can tentatively venture forth and say “I’m not sure I’m a real Christian. I’m not sure what I believe about Jesus.” It turns out in our conversation that someone made you feel as if there was only one way of being in relationship with him.

What you will hear me say in response is that when you read the gospels, you don’t find Jesus demanding this. What he says is “Follow me.” Follow me.

He offers an invitation to come and see for yourself, to approach him in whatever way you can, whether that is by flying through the air in the shape of a cross or falling on your knees before the consecrated host. It doesn’t matter how you get to him. The important thing is to be in relationship: to ask, listen, read, search, to follow.

As we stay in relationship, we find that the longer we stay with it, the deeper in we get. What at first might have only been a matter of attending church – a habit, or a good thing to do on Sunday – becomes much more.

We hear something: Wait a minute – did he say love your enemies? That I’m supposed to die to myself? What’s that about? Be born a second time, become like a child, don’t worry about tomorrow, sell everything and give it to the poor? What?

The longer we stay in relationship, the deeper in we get. It’s like any other relationship, really. In love, you start with hearts and flowers. Then you get to how you do the laundry (or even whether you do it). Getting in deeper, your families of origin enter in. Eventually, our weaknesses, compulsions, blind spots – everything we don’t want to expose - are laid bare.

If we stay awake and are willing to grow, the longer we stay with relationships, the deeper in we get. And we also discover that our relationship changes; what is enjoyable and meaningful, what we do together, what we share, these things change as we evolve.

So it is with Jesus. There isn’t a point at which he stops being challenging or inspiring us to higher levels. There isn’t a point at which we can honestly say “Oh, I get what he says. I’ve integrated his message. On to the next teacher.” There is something about him that is truly inexhaustible. I think this is why his followers originally called him divine; the more we stay with him, the more he reveals, just like God.

At some point along the way we learn to trust him. We discover, through our own experience, that when we struggle with his difficult demands and puzzle over his cryptic sayings, that he leads us to good things.

Our life becomes richer, more in touch with the pain of this world, perhaps, but also more in touch with its glory. We become less attached and worried, more trusting and generous. He delivers what he promises: I will lead you into all truth, and the truth will set you free.

When we have learned to trust Jesus through our experience, we can then allow something to happen that was not possible before: he becomes for us our authority. We can humble ourselves before him, knowing that he knows better than we do. We can say “I don’t understand what you’re asking of me, but I’m willing to go there in faith, because you know the way.” We can be obedient.

Authority, obedience, subjection, humility – these are not popular words in our culture these days. For good reason, too - some of us have had far too much of domination and demands for compliance. When people do this, when religion does this, it is not life-giving; it is abusive. And it has nothing to do with the kind of authority that Jesus earns with people of faith.

We shouldn’t trust Jesus because we’re supposed to, or because we’re afraid of hell; we trust him because he has proven himself worthy of it in our experience. In following him, we discover that he takes us to good places, and so we allow him to guide us further along the way.

Today is the feast of Christ the King. We proclaim that he is Lord of lords, the firstborn of all creation, above every dominion and power, reigning over all. If you’re like me, you may not relate to this in some cosmic or apocalyptic sense. Instead, you might see Jesus reigning over your heart as king, as lord.

You might see him as the one with whom you began in relationship by responding to his invitation: following and discovering, then questioning and learning, then struggling and growing, then becoming more free and finally coming to the point where you are willing to follow him anywhere.

This is your obedience to Jesus’ authority, a gentle authority which he has earned in relationship with you. It is what the collect for today calls “his most gracious rule.” This is the fulfillment of what was said to you when you began on this pathway: You are marked as Christ’s own forever.
In 1906, Albert Schweitzer, a biblical theologian before he was a doctor, wrote a book that responded to others of his day who were trying to figure out who Jesus really was by studying about him as a historical figure. Schweitzer said that we can only know him by encountering him ourselves, and in that encounter, we shall be changed. I’ve quoted it to you before, but it is worth hearing many times.

He comes to us as One unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lake-side, he came to those who knew him not. He speaks to us the same word: “Follow me!” and sets us to the tasks which he has to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey, whether they be wise or simple, he will reveal himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in his fellowship, and as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience who he is.