November 22, 2009
Christ the King, Year B
The Very Rev. Mark B. Pendleton
Christ Church Cathedral

Soon and Very Soon We are Going to See the King

The music industry knows how to honor its royalty:  Elvis was hailed as the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Michael Jackson, who sold million of records around the world before his death this past summer, was crowned the King of Pop in the 1980’s. And who might a new president call on to sing at his inauguration?  Musical royalty: none other than Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul.  

I was traveling with my family on the day of Michael Jackson’s funeral and we would arrive to Los Angeles on the day after the service was held in the downtown Staple’s Center. What struck me most as I caught the beginning of the memorial service on television was the song the gospel choir sang as the Jackson brothers brought in the casket of the pop icon.  It was gospel singing at its best. Stage lighting mimicked the stained glass windows of a church. The choir sang the uplifting “Soon and Very Soon” by Andráe Crouch. “Soon and very soon, we are going to see the king. Soon and very soon, we are going to see the king. Alleluia, alleluia, we are going to see the king. No more crying there, we are going to see the King. No more dying there, we are going to see the King.”

The rendition of this gospel tune was a powerful and well choreographed way to open a tribute for such a complex public figure, but I couldn’t help wonder as I watched the casket being brought in accompanied by this music – how many people might connect the words that were sung to the fallen King of Pop, and not God’s well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords? 

King David, in his last words that we read in 2 Samuel, supports the best possible understanding of kingship:  as being the who rules over people justly -- does so in the fear of God – has the impact of light in the morning, the sun rising on a cloudless morning, and gleaming from the rain on the grassy land.

The one spoken of in the Book of Revelation is described in royal terms, as the ruler of the kings of the earth, one who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom.” (Rev. 1:5). A few chapters later, we read “to the one who conquers I will give a place with me on my throne, just as I myself conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne.”(3:21).

So, in our traditional religious imaginations, thinking of Jesus as a king may not be a great stretch. The kings of Israel go back to the days of Saul, David and Solomon. And Jesus is born in Bethlehem, the city of David, sealing his royal pedigree. Today is Christ the King Sunday, the “Johnny come Lately” feast of the church, having only been around since 1925 and only since 1969 was it moved to this Sunday at the end of the church year. 

Yet the royal nature of Christ as king is problematic and difficult, I believe, to translate into modern times – especially in countries founded on the rejection of kingly rule and control such as our own.  On the corner of a street near my home and in front of a local church, I often stop to read the bumper sticker of a car:  “Make Jesus the King of your Life.”   Though I understand the roots of its message, I am always struck how distant the image of a king is from the way I see and experience Christ. 

The main action of the gospel today is the memorable encounter of Pontius Pilate with Jesus. The issue of kingship being a central question.  Are you or aren’t you King of the Jews?  Jesus as a witness on the stand would have been reprimanded by the judges we see on Court TV because it’s clear he did not want to answer directly what was asked of him.  He would not state for himself what others wanted to claim for him: “You say I am a king.” 

What Jesus does say is that his kingdom is not from, or of, this world.  If it had been, his followers would have fought harder and he would have never been handed over the authorities.

This faceoff between Pilate and Jesus demonstrates the two kinds of power each represents.  It points to what kind of world and life each promotes.  One ruled by force, expansion, brutality, coercion, and corruption and the other envisions and speaks of a life of abundance fueled by grace, humility, love, service, sacrifice and compassion.   It is the ultimate flip of the cosmic coin. The differences between those two worlds are not subtle nor are they negotiable. 

But for us today, this vivid confrontation invites us to look at the different forces at play in our own lives and in the world. Which forces or influences are winning out in a given time? What values are coming to the top as we prioritize our daily lives? When governments draw up budgets and when legislators decide who will benefit from the laws that are passed: who wins and who loses? 

Now to some, this glaring clash of worldviews can seem dualistic and out-dated.  Fair enough; but consider for example how many people are starting to look at the holiday season differently. Individuals and families are almost begging to find a way out of the madness of over-spending and consumerism that drive the season between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  People are trying to remember and hold onto what is most important about this time of year – what is most important in life in general.  In these months after the greatest economic collapse since the Great Depression, many of us are reconsidering how what we spend, what we save, and what we really need and not just want.  Many have gotten the message.  If it looks too good to be true, maybe it is. 

Dr. Bob Morehead, formerly of Seattle's Overlake Christian Church, penned a widely circulated essay that was once thought to have written by a young survivor of the Columbine school tragedy.  Morehead wrote for many when he questioned the paradox of our time when “we have taller buildings but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, yet more problems; more medicine, but less wellness. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.  We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor.  We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. 

One way to see and understand Christ as King lies in the simplicity of underlying message: we are called to put some things and certain people at the top of the list and at the head of the line in the many choices we make.

At the culmination of the encounter between Pilate and Jesus, Jesus responds by saying: “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” (Jn 18:37)  Then Pilate asks:  “What is truth?”  In the resource we use for our weekly Bible study, Beth Harrison writes that the Greek word for truth literally means, “what is unforgotten.  We somehow know the truth, but we forget.”  

What still remains unforgotten in our lives?  What, if we take away all that we own and all that we have achieved, all we have done and seen, what can never fully slip out of sight?

That is how we begin to make our list of things that define who we are and the way the world should be and is becoming and that is how our list should end, for God is the beginning and end, “the Alpha and the Omega: who is and who was and who is to come.”  (Rev. 1:8)