Not the King You Were Expecting; a sermon for Christ the King Sunday

Luke 23.33-43

33 When they arrived at the place called The Skull, they crucified him, along with the criminals, one on his right and the other on his left. 34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” They drew lots as a way of dividing up his clothing.

35 The people were standing around watching, but the leaders sneered at him, saying, “He saved others. Let him save himself if he really is the Christ sent from God, the chosen one.”

36 The soldiers also mocked him. They came up to him, offering him sour wine 37 and saying, “If you really are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” 38 Above his head was a notice of the formal charge against him. It read “This is the king of the Jews.”

39 One of the criminals hanging next to Jesus insulted him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!”

40 Responding, the other criminal spoke harshly to him, “Don’t you fear God, seeing that you’ve also been sentenced to die? 41 We are rightly condemned, for we are receiving the appropriate sentence for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

43 Jesus replied, “I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise.”

Let the words of my mouth
    and the meditations of my heart
    be pleasing to you,
    Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

My name is Brandon. I am a pastor. I am a father. I am thirty-seven years old. I’m a white male. I’m a musician. I’m a kayaker. I’m a husband. I’m a Mac user. I’m on Facebook and Twitter, where you could, if you wanted, find out even more about me. Some of you probably have.

Which is why you don’t listen to a word I say.

Any number of those descriptors will bring to mind a mass of baggage. If I define myself as a pastor, I’m expected to be an old white guy who eats too much at pot lucks, judges people without them knowing, and shouts and pounds an old King James Bible a lot.

I don’t think that represents me. Bits of it, probably. And I probably will end up just another old church curmudgeon. But I hope I’m not yet.

We can play that same name game with Jesus. In fact, Paul does in our reading from Colossians.

Jesus is the image of the invisible God

first over all creation

through whom all things were created

the head of the body, the church

the beginning

firstborn from among the dead

in whom all the fullness of God was pleased to live.

Those are all heavily loaded statements. We could probably spend at least a sermon apiece unpacking them. Or unpacking any number of other statements.

Jesus saves.

Jesus is the lover of my soul.

Jesus is Lord.

Which, by the way, was a statement that had a considerable life in the electronic world last week. It was accompanied by a fill-in-the-blank statement.

If Jesus is Lord, then _____ is not.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it. What are you not willing to put in that blank?

If Jesus is Lord, then _____ is not.

You know what? Do that right now. Write down that sentence. “If Jesus is Lord, then _____ is not.” And see just how much you can challenge yourself. What is the hardest thing you can put in that slot?

If that distracts you from the rest of the sermon, so be it. I hope God is working on you.

Because Jesus needs to be, for us, Lord of all, and we need to recognize that if we are to live as his Body.

Because it seems an awful lot like Jesus isn’t going to insist on being Lord. Jesus is going to let us decide that he is Lord.

Why else would Jesus have ended up on the cross?

That’s the really weird thing about Jesus. He didn’t and doesn’t do what we think he ought to do. It seems contrary to what Jeremiah says:

I myself will gather the few remaining sheep from all the countries where I have driven them. I will bring them back to their pasture, and they will be fruitful and multiply. I will place over them shepherds who care for them. Then they will no longer be afraid or dread harm, nor will any be missing, declares the Lord.

The time is coming, declares the Lord, when I will raise up a righteous descendant from David’s line, and he will rule as a wise king. He will do what is just and right in the land.

Jeremiah doesn’t expect Israel’s savior to be a shepherd. God will give the people shepherds. Jeremiah expects a wise ruler who will bring justice and righteousness to the land.

But Jesus brings a sword. Jesus divides people. Jesus is so mysterious, so ambiguous, or at least so it would appear, that he divides his own people.

Because a cross is not a unifying symbol. A cross is a sign of utter defeat. Not the cross, but a cross is the Empire’s sign to the people that none can stand against the Empire and survive. Because this is, after all, only one cross. One of many, erected across the Empire, with many more that can be erected. How hard is it to cut down a tree and nail a man to it?

Yet, somehow, the criminal sharing space with Jesus at The Skull looked at the man who was suffering, gasping for breath beside him and begged, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

I suppose that a King rules by the permission of the people.

So here is one man proclaiming, “Yes, Jesus, you are King.”

Even on the cross.

Even near death.

A man who had never taken the throne, who had never expressed any glancing interest in the throne.

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

We don’t need a shepherd. We have shepherds. We need a King.

We need a Lord.

Will you let Jesus be Lord of your life today?

The Psalmist proclaims:

There is a river whose streams gladden God’s city,
    the holiest dwelling of the Most High.
God is in that city. It will never crumble.
    God will help it when morning dawns.
Nations roar; kingdoms crumble.
    God utters his voice; the earth melts.
The Lord of heavenly forces is with us!
    The God of Jacob is our place of safety.

Have you heard the nations roar? Their noise destroys weaker nations.

But when God whispers, the very earth melts.

If you believe that, then God is King. If you have faith in that, you know that Jesus is Lord.

And that God is not only our sovereign, but that Lord is our place of safety. Jesus is a permanent fixture in our landscape that is ever a safe space for those who seek him.

What kind of a savior is this? Listen to the Psalmist:

Come, see the Lord’s deeds,
    what devastation he has imposed on the earth—
       bringing wars to an end in every corner of the world,
    breaking the bow and shattering the spear,
        burning chariots with fire.

What devastation: wars ending, weapons broken, the vehicles of war incinerated.

This is the power of our God. This is the power of our Lord.

But this is the power of our Jesus who wills to be made Lord by us. The Lord of Peace longs for us to recognize his sovereignty.

This Jesus is King, but not the kind of King you were expecting.

Will you make him your King today?

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Don't Panic. a sermon for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 21.5-19

5 Some people were talking about the temple, how it was decorated with beautiful stones and ornaments dedicated to God. Jesus said, 6 “As for the things you are admiring, the time is coming when not even one stone will be left upon another. All will be demolished.”

7 They asked him, “Teacher, when will these things happen? What sign will show that these things are about to happen?”

8 Jesus said, “Watch out that you aren’t deceived. Many will come in my name, saying, ‘I’m the one!’ and ‘It’s time!’ Don’t follow them. 9  When you hear of wars and rebellions, don’t be alarmed. These things must happen first, but the end won’t happen immediately.”

10 Then Jesus said to them, “Nations and kingdoms will fight against each other. 11 There will be great earthquakes and wide-scale food shortages and epidemics. There will also be terrifying sights and great signs in the sky. 12 But before all this occurs, they will take you into custody and harass you because of your faith. They will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will provide you with an opportunity to testify. 14 Make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance. 15 I’ll give you words and wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to counter or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed by your parents, brothers and sisters, relatives, and friends. They will execute some of you. 17 Everyone will hate you because of my name. 18 Still, not a hair on your heads will be lost. 19 By holding fast, you will gain your lives.

Let the words of my mouth
    and the meditations of my heart
    be pleasing to you,
    Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

μὴ πτοηθῆτε

Got it?

Don’t be alarmed. Don’t be startled. Don’t be frightened.

μὴ πτοηθῆτε

It’s okay. It’s Greek to me, too.

You know how when the angels say, “Don’t be afraid,” to the shepherds; or when Jesus appears to the disciples in the upper room and tells them, “Don’t be afraid”?

It’s like that. Close. But not quite. Probably close enough that it wouldn’t usually make a difference.

For the record, the difference is this:

Luke uses this word, πτοέω. Nobody else does. And he uses it here and in one other place.

The more common word is φοβη. Like a phobia. But that’s not what Luke chooses here.

The passage starts in the aforementioned cloistered gathering. For Luke, Jesus appears first to a pair of people on the road to Emmaus, who go tell their friends in, again, the aforementioned sheltered party of terrified Jesus-followers. I suspect it doesn’t make them feel a lot better.

So, in Luke’s remembering, Jesus tells them: μὴ πτοηθῆτε.

Don’t. Panic.

The old buildings you thought would stand for generations are falling to dust?

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

People are claiming to be Messiah (which is different from people claiming they’ve found a messiah)?

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

Wars and rebellions? Insurrections and protests?

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

Earthquakes? Food shortages? Epidemics?

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

We have got to hear those words. We have got to take them to heart. We have got to change our behavior.

Because, y’all, we spend a lot of time and a lot of energy freaking out about stuff. Stuff that usually has nothing to do with us personally.

That’s a problem I have to remind our kids of all the time. You don’t need to worry about what your brother or sister is doing. That’s their problem. Mind your own business.

But as we age, when we don’t learn as children to mind our own business, the degree to which we stick our noses into other people’s business becomes greater, and the way we react to the smell of their business becomes more dramatic.

Really, folks. Let’s just stop.

It’s not like our business smells sweet, either.

Let’s stop freaking out about things. I mean, all sorts of things.

Have you noticed the kinds of things that get people’s attention? Look at our headlines. Gosh, go into the bookstore, even the Christian bookstore, and see what’s out in front because it’s what sells. Apocalyptic, disaster, end-of-days, judgment. It’s either that or a tell-all story of the rumors of somebody you never really wanted to know about in the first place.

I don’t care what the Kardashians are doing.

I care what I’m doing.

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

Let’s mind our business. Our own business.

Let’s stop panicking about what’s going on around us. If it’s really something that’s going to make a difference in your life, or maybe in the life of someone for whom you’re responsible, not just someone whose business you want to explore with your Pinocchio honker, then maybe you should do something novel: Stop talking about it and do something.

Many will come in my name, saying, ‘I’m the one!’ and ‘It’s time!’ 

Jesus doesn’t tell the disciples to go out and talk about the false prophets. He just says:

Don’t follow them.

When you hear of wars and rebellions,

freak out and make sure every Sunday School lesson ties back into how bad the world is getting and how Jesus is going to wipe out America and turn us back into God’s Chosen People…

which we never were.

No, Jesus doesn’t say that. He says,

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

The things we get upset about are not the things that Jesus got upset about. They’re not even the same kinds of things.

Jesus got upset about the Temple authorities twisting the Law into something only the wealthy could follow. Jesus got upset about moneychangers taking advantage of folk who could barely afford to make the journey to Jerusalem, let alone pay the exorbitant costs of purchasing Temple-raised livestock for the sacrifice.

Jesus got upset when powerful people stepped on people who had no power.

And Jesus still gets upset about that today.

There’s room for righteous anger. But it’s best left to God. Unless God is giving you a prophetic voice, it’s best not to voice wrath in God’s name.

And it’s best to leave to God what God has planned.

If an end comes today to all time and space, to humanity as we know it, or even to the community we love, that’s in God’s hands, and God will give us the tools to respond, and God will nurture us into whatever God has planned for us.

μὴ πτοηθῆτε. Don’t panic.

God has this under control.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

How real is our faith? a sermon for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 20.27-38

²⁷ Some Sadducees, who deny that there’s a resurrection, came to Jesus and asked, ²⁸ “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies leaving a widow but no children, the brother must marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. ²⁹ Now there were seven brothers. The first man married a woman and then died childless. ³⁰ The second ³¹ and then the third brother married her. Eventually all seven married her, and they all died without leaving any children. ³² Finally, the woman died too. ³³ In the resurrection, whose wife will she be? All seven were married to her.”

³⁴ Jesus said to them, “People who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage. ³⁵  But those who are considered worthy to participate in that age, that is, in the age of the resurrection from the dead, won’t marry nor will they be given in marriage. ³⁶  They can no longer die, because they are like angels and are God’s children since they share in the resurrection. ³⁷  Even Moses demonstrated that the dead are raised—in the passage about the burning bush, when he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. ³⁸  He isn’t the God of the dead but of the living. To him they are all alive.”

Let the words of my mouth
    and the meditations of my heart
    be pleasing to you,
    Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

Would you like to get inside the disciples’ lives sometimes? I mean, imagine what the conversations must’ve been like, what it must have been like to have been around Jesus, with all the weird stuff he did.

Yeah, the healing, the miracles. The radical whatever he said in all his teachings and parables that most people probably didn’t get at the time.

But imagine being around in moments like this one.

Those jerks of Sadducees, always trying to catch Jesus in some sort of trap, employ one that blew the disciples’ minds.

OK, Christ. What if a dude dies, leaves his wife as sole survivor, and she goes through all his brothers and still ends up a widow?

Now, the disciples probably thought the sneaky little Sadducees would stop there. What happens to her now? But no, they didn’t. They ask an all-new question.

After she dies, of those seven brothers, whose is she in the resurrection?

What? These jerks don’t even believe that’s a thing! 

That’s not even fair! They don’t care about the answer! They just want to sneak up and knock Jesus out from behind with that one!

But Jesus doesn’t deal with the woman-as-ownership problem with the Sadducees argument, which is, personally, what I would be wont to rail on about. He lets that one go. That’s the language and expectation of the time: women as property.

He doesn’t even attack the question headlong, which is typical Jesus style. How many questions can you think of Jesus addressing directly?

Not many, right?

No, he goes and undermines the whole argument.

He calls out the Sadducees first.

People who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage. 

Y’all are so caught up in the argument that you don’t get the eternal implications of what you’re doing. You’re so caught up in here and now that you have, in fact, no part of eternity. You get nothing. You lose. Good day, sir.

Now, I don’t know how much Jesus shared with the disciples about the resurrection before he was assassinated, but it sure seems like he surprised them when he did the whole busting-out-of-death-and-hell thing. If they knew, they didn’t believe. They didn’t have faith.

For that matter, I wonder if we do. We collect stuff around us like it’s actually important, like what happens right now is what matters. Like the only time we get to have joy and life is during our nanosecond of a lifetime.

We confess that we know better. We profess that we have faith in something more real, more permanent, something eternal. But we live like the only thing that matters is what’s in front of our nose.

How real is our faith?

Do we really believe what we profess?

One God, three Persons? That’s a pretty difficult thing to wrap the head around. Heck, it’s an impossible thing. There’s no explanation in the world that makes sense enough to survive a good, solid argument.

What we believe, or at least what we profess are difficult, often impossible things. And what the institutional church does often betrays the lack of faith we have in our God and in each other, our lack of faith in our ability to be the miraculous, healing, resurrected Body of Christ today.

I know that.

And I know that in a lot of ways, I represent that institution. And so do you. And it’s when people look at us from outside the institution, a skeptical world seeing the deep faults and murderous tendencies of the church throughout history, that we look the very least like Jesus.

What are the fruits of our faith?

What are the fruits of our lives?

Is it life that we believe in? Is it a God who holds us in divine arms both in this fleshy, frail life and in a life of resurrection? Is that the God whom we trust?

Because we profess together:

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

The Holy catholic church,

The communion of saints,

The forgiveness of sins,

The resurrection of the dead,

And the life everlasting.

But we live like there’s no life in the Church. We do church like we’re just waiting to die. We make excuses: We’re too busy; we forgot; it’s not my style; blah, blah, blah.

If we believe in the Holy Spirit, let’s live like God is breathing in us!

If we believe in one holy, universal Church, let’s trust that God is going to do something through this body!

If we believe in the resurrection of the dead, let’s stop living like we’re already dead. Let’s trust God to bring us back to life!

Because friends, I don’t know about you, but I’m frankly disinterested in doing hospice ministry with Jesus’s churches. I don’t want to just hold the church’s hand while she dies.

Do you want to be a living church today, or do you want to be an overgrown toenail God just needs to clip off?

You may think that faith is just between you and God; that being a Christian is about your free pass to heaven; but friends, it’s a lot more than that. Following Christ is about being part of something bigger than yourself. It’s about being part of the Vine, the Family of God, the living, breathing, growing Body of Christ.

It’s about living today like you believe the promise of the God of the living and the dead, the God to whom Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are alive right now; the God to whom our sisters, our brothers, our grandparents, and our grandchildren’s grandchildren are alive and real and proclaiming Christ’s resurrection at this moment!

We are one Body, united in Christ, and we need to start acting like we believe that.

If you do, I want to invite you to join me today. Y’all, I ain’t got time for doing hospice with God’s church. God is calling us to be alive today.

Are you alive?

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.