The King is Exalted on High

Sermon text for November 25, 2007:
John 18:33-37

A praise hymn says, “He is exalted, the king is exalted on high, and I will praise him.” This morning we will sing an older familiar hymn that says, “Crown him with many crowns, the Lamb upon his throne.” This image of Christ the King is probably as old as Christian thought itself, but most of us are not too comfortable with the idea of “King Jesus”. Even the words sound funny. King David, King Saul, or King George, sound good to our ears but King Jesus, sounds strange.

The idea of King Jesus is probably hard for us on several levels. In the first place we are in a church whose roots are sunk deep in the Reformation. Our spiritual ancestors rejected the monarch in Rome, and as Americans, the founders of our nation rejected the monarch from England. How do we deal with the concept of King Jesus? It might help if we consider the idea that King Jesus might bring us closer to God’s original intentions when God took the Jews across the Jordan and into the Promised Land.

In Israel’s far distant past, God created a society which was different than anything the world had ever seen, or will ever see again. In the days of the judges, Israel was a totally egalitarian society. Everyone had a birthright. No one had authority over any one else. If God had an issue with the people, or something was happening that was difficult to solve, God raised up judges to convey God’s word. These were people like Gideon, Sampson, Deborah, and Samuel. Some of the judges seem to have been important to Israel for decades, and others faded away when the problem was solved. God was the only ruler, or king, that the people had.

All of the people who lived in the nations surrounding Israel had a human king who ruled them, and it seemed to the Chosen People that having a “real king” gave a measure of security that they lacked. By about one thousand B.C.E., the citizens of Israel were demanding that Samuel annoint a king to rule over them. At first, Samuel refused. God was the King and they needed no other.

God received the people’s wishes as a rejection and told Samuel to pick a king, but to warn them of the consequences first. In contrast to the egalitarian reign of God, this is what the people could expect: A “king will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots .…” Some will be in the army, others will serve on the king’s farms or in the palace and he will “Take one tenth of your grain and your vineyard and give it to his officers … and you will be his slaves.”

God’s original intention was to be the only ruler over the people and that the people should live in freedom. But freedom brought its own anxieties and the people elected to trade freedom in God for life under a tyrant. Samuel annointed first Saul and later David to be King over Israel.

Today is Christ the King Sunday, the day in the life of the church when we celebrate King Jesus, the heir to David’s throne. We sing songs to the King, while all the while questioning in our hearts the image of King Jesus. We are not alone in our questioning, almost twenty-one centuries ago King Jesus stood before a confused Pontius Pilate, and Pilate asked Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

The man standing before him looked nothing like a king. Jesus stood before Pilate after having spent an incredibly painful and stressful night. It began wonderfully with an intimate dinner with his closest friend. They ate, prayed, sang, and shared a common litany recalling Passover. But it quickly deteriorated into betrayal, an arrest, trial, beatings, humiliation, and a jail cell.

Archeologists believe they have found the home of Caiaphas, the Chief Priest who presided over Jesus’ trial before the Sanhedrin. Underground at the site of the home is a dungeon with several cells. Prisoners were thrown down about six or eight feet into the cave-like cells. Many undoubtedly suffered major injuries just from the fall. On the wall of one of the cells is the image of a man, arms outstretched as if he was hanging on a cross. Christians can’t avoid wondering if the image belongs to Jesus, but the likelihood is that hundred of prisoners over the years were tied in that spot and the oils in their skin seeped into the porous stone. The dusty, inhumane dungeon, like the manger in Bethlehem, is not the kind of place where one expects to find a king.

On the day Jesus stood before Pilate he probably looked more like a vagabond than a king. The irony was not lost on Pilate. I believe he was being sarcastic when he looked at Jesus and said, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus took Pilate’s question seriously and attempted to engage him on a personal level. “Are you asking me on your own or did others tell you about me?” Pilate was not used to being challenged and he became flustered. In anger he answered, “I am not a Jew am I? Your own people turned you over to me. What have you done?”

Jesus chose to answer Pilate’s first question, “My kingdom is not of this world, if it were my followers would fight to keep me from being handed over to the Jews .… As it is my kingdom is not from here.” I believe that this passage has been misunderstood for generations. “The kingdom” has often been interpreted as heaven, a place we go to after death. But I don’t think that is what Jesus meant. I think that Jesus established the kingdom, the reign of God, on earth, but that someone with the mindset of Pilate’s would never understand. The kingdom is not from this world because, like the society God created in ancient Israel, it is different from anything humans have conceived. King Jesus reigns over a peaceful kingdom in which violence is not an option, even to save the king.

All of the kings of Israel, like kings everywhere, ruled by intimidation. They forced people to accept their rule through jailing, killing, or beating them into submission. And Pilate himself was a great intimidator who used strategic murders to remind the people who was in control.

But Jesus had a different vision of leadership which was not based on fear, where people volunteer for service out of love and loyalty. Perhaps the most poignant picture of the reign of Jesus is found in the thirteenth chapter of John. On the last evening Jesus spent with his disciples, they were all together in the upper room. They were tired and uncomfortable from a long day on their feet, and Jesus stripped down, took a towel and basin and washed the disciples’ feet.

Imagine a king serving and loving his subjects instead of demanding that they serve him. Imagine a king on his knees, carefully washing his subjects’ feet. Now we know why Jesus told Pilate that his kingdom was not of this world. It is not that the kingdom exists in heaven instead of on earth. The Kingdom of Jesus is based on concepts that leaders like Pilate will never understand.

King Jesus expended every resource he had, including his own life, to serve the people. It is now up to us to decide if Jesus is the kind of king we can follow – serving, caring, loving, as Jesus served, loved, and cared.

King Jesus does not demand that we follow. He does not rule through intimidation or fear. Jesus simply invites us into the kingdom saying, “Come follow me.”

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Up the Hill Rejoicing

Sermon text for November 4, 2007:
Psalm 24

The feeling was absolutely amazing. My body was tingling, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I couldn’t help myself. I was swept away by a crowd of thousands singing, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

As we sang our praises, time lost all meaning. I was surprised when I discovered that we sang for about twenty minutes. People were standing on tables, dancing in the aisles, hugging each other and crying in joy and gratitude. The General Assembly of the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America had just ratified the plan for reunion with the southern branch of the Church and we had become one. God had done a wondrous thing which only a few years before seemed impossible. With God’s help, the northern and southern branches of the Presbyterian Church were part of a miracle created by God.

Moments like these are as rare in the church as they are in other parts of our life, but every once in a while something happens that carries us away, at least momentarily. Many of us probably got carried away when the Rockies won the National League title or maybe when the Broncos last won the Super Bowl.

The faithful Republican or Democrat might get carried away at the quadrennial political conventions. I watch both conventions every four years and excitement builds as state delegations declare how many votes are to go to each candidate. Finally one candidate is declared the party’s nominee and the whole convention explodes in applause, cheers, clapping, laughing, and dancing in the aisles.

If you understand melting into a crowd and being swept away by joy, then you understand the emotional context of our Psalm.

Psalm 24 is what Bible scholars call a Psalm of ascent. It was sung as the faithful ascended the hill toward the temple in Jerusalem. It begins with a simple affirmation of faith: “The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it, the world and those who live in it." God owns the world and everything in it, including the people. This simple truth challenges us in the core of our being. We like to think that we belong to ourselves and what we have is ours, but the Psalmist declares “the earth is the Lord’s”, even that piece of ground to which we hold title belongs to God. Moreover, those who live on the earth also belong to God. We are not our own. If we are faithful we cannot do with ourselves and our possessions what we want.

The Jews who lived very close to the land took this truth for granted. They worked very hard to survive, but in the final analysis, God’s help was essential for life. They got it: “The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. Even the people who live there belong to God.”

That is why after the harvest thousands of believers marched through the streets of Jerusalem carrying gifts. They moved relentlessly up the hill toward the temple where they would join others who gathered outside the gates. As they marched they sang to one another antiphonally, "The earth is the Lord's ... and everything in it!" "The earth is the Lord's ... and everything in it!" Then the words changed. A cantor started the next line "Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? Who shall stand in His holy place?" And another cantor helped the crowd answer, singing "Those who have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to what is false."

As they sang back and forth the excitement built and individuals became lost in the chanting of the crowds. Individual personalities merged so that the thousands became one. They came to the temple to make offerings and sacrifices to God and they quite literally moved as one body to storm the gates. It is a drama that was played out year after year, generation after generation. Inside the temple gates the priests waited until the excitement outside peaked before they opened the gates and let the people in.

Outside, the crowd grows impatient, "Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up, O ancient doors!" It's a fancy way of saying “Open the doors so we can come in; open up that ‘the King of Glory might come in’," sings one group while the other sings back, "Who is the King of Glory? The Lord of hosts, He is the King of Glory."

The crowd has come to the temple with their gifts for the King of Glory. They have come with their first fruits, the best of their flocks and herds. They believe that one day as they storm the gates of the temple, the Messiah will enter with them. The gifts that they have brought will demonstrate their love, gratitude and devotion to the King.

Year after year they re-enacted this drama in faith, demanding the privilege of giving gifts to God. The grain in their baskets and the animals they drove ahead of them were proof of God's generosity. And they wanted to be generous with God.

I have the fantasy that on November 11th, you will literally storm the gates of the church bringing your best gifts to God. I imagine you quivering with energy and joy, singing, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow" as families offer their pledges for God's work in the coming year.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock