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.