From The Redemption Of A King To A King Of Redemption
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Render Unto Caesar" by Frank Ramirez
"Long Ago and Far Away?" by Sandra Herrmann
"From the Redemption of a King to a King of Redemption" by Zan W. Holmes Jr.
"Seeing the End" by David O. Bales
* * * * * * * *
Render Unto Caesar
by Frank Ramirez
1 Timothy 2:1-7
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.
-- 1 Timothy 2:1-2
Prayer is to be offered for all rulers in the hope that we may live peaceably in society at large -- especially because we are reminded by Paul that Jesus "gave himself as ransom for all" (1 Timothy 2:6). A few decades after the Apostle Paul dictated this strong suggestion that we honor all rulers with prayer and thanksgiving, even though we live under a different set of rules and are truly ruled by Jesus Christ, the king of kings, an anonymous Christian composed a letter to a Roman official named Diognetus about the type of citizen a Christian made. The author set out to counter the rumor that Christians participated in strange and unnatural practices with a description of the equally strange truth -- Christians share a noncomformist life that is a challenge to the world's standards.
"For Christians are not distinguished from the rest of humanity by country, language, or custom. For nowhere do they live in cities of their own, nor do they speak some unusual dialect, nor do they practice an eccentric lifestyle. ... But while they live in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each one's lot was cast, and follow the local customs in dress and food and other aspects of life, at the same time they demonstrate the remarkable and admittedly unusual character of their own citizenship. They live in their own countries, but only as aliens; they participate in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. ... They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. ... They love everyone, and by everyone they are persecuted. ... They are put to death, yet they are brought to life."
The author then lists several contemporary customs, such as disposing of unwanted children or sharing spouses, which Christians do NOT take part in, but adds that "they are poor, yet they make many rich; they are in need of everything, yet they abound in everything."1
So how does this work in practice? Fast forward around eighteen centuries when it was necessary for another group of Christians to convince the government under which they found themselves, the Confederate States of America, that they did not present a threat, but lived to serve. During the Civil War the Dunkers, one of the plain people of Pennsylvania, who had spread into the South in search of fertile farmlands, suffered because they refused to take up arms. Property was confiscated, pledges of exemption were broken, and some were killed.
Against this background the experiences of P.R. Wrightsman of Limestone, Tennessee, are as typical as any. In 1862 Wrightsman was the youngest minister in the congregation and was away studying to be a doctor when a council meeting was called by his church after some of their young men were imprisoned by the Confederates. Because he was absent he was the one deputized to go to Richmond to seek their release.
Wrightsman was on a train full of Confederate soldiers when a minister of another faith discovered his stand against war and insisted "This war is different." Wrightsman stood his ground. When he discovered his challenger believed that God had inspired George Washington to go to war, Wrightsman asked him that if he thought so why would he fight against that same country Washington founded. The anger expressed by both the minister and the soldiers put him in jeopardy, but he arrived unharmed and fulfilled his mission.
Over the course of the next few years most of his property was taken by Confederate soldiers. He recalled how late in the war when the soldiers
... came for the last horse they rode up with threats and curses. Their language and manner impressed me that they came with intent to kill me. Part of the squad went to the field for the last horse and part remained with me under their charge. I just stepped inside the stable, stood with my hands upwards, and prayed to my heavenly Father, saying, "Dear Father, save me from these men. Have mercy upon them, and turn them from their evil course, and save thy servant."
I never exercised stronger faith in prayer than at that time. It seemed as if I was speaking face to face with my blessed Lord. When I stepped out to the soldiers I felt that God had answered my prayer, for I could see the Satanic look going down out of their faces like the shadow of a cloud before the bright sunlight.
The soldiers then said to me, "Mr. Wrightsman, can we get some bread?" "O yes," said I, "we are commanded to feed the hungry." I went at once to the kitchen and requested my sisters to cut off a large slice of bread, and butter it for each of them. They did so and I took it out into the yard and handed a slice to each. They thanked me for the bread, bowed their heads, mounted their horses and rode away, taking my last horse with them, however. Feeling sure the Lord had saved my life, I felt happy, "thanked God and took courage." This occurred in the summer of 1863...."
P.R. Wrightsman's thanksgiving, not only for deliverance, but for the vision to see even an enemy as a child of God needing service, is an example in our fractured society to us all to see in those we consider our enemies someone we may serve in God's love.
__________
1. Translation by Frank Ramirez.
Frank Ramirez has served as a pastor for nearly 30 years in Church of the Brethren congregations in Los Angeles, California; Elkhart, Indiana; and Everett, Pennsylvania. A graduate of LaVerne College and Bethany Theological Seminary, Ramirez is the author of numerous books, articles, and short stories. His CSS titles include Partners in Healing, He Took a Towel, The Bee Attitudes, three volumes of Lectionary Worship Aids, and Breakdown in Bethlehem (Christmas 2012).
Long Ago and Far Away?
by Sandra Herrmann
John 18:33-37
"Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away..." So begins George Lucas' Star Wars: Episode 4. Every one of us who had read fairy tales slid down into our seats and reached for our popcorn, knowing very well that we were about to hear a story about Good Guys vs. Bad Guys, fighting for The Right Thing To Happen. The Good Guys were bound to win in the end, overthrowing the Bad Guys and establishing a way of life in which each person is autonomous -- free to live without fear. We expected adventure and a hard fight along the way, but we also expected Luke Skywalker, Hans Solo, and Chewbacca to be given the gold medals all heroes get.
But the story of Jesus goes against all that, even though it starts out with "long, long ago, in a place we see only on television, a baby was born in a stable." This Sunday, the Christian year ends with the crowning of a king and the establishment of a kingdom with a claim on our lives and a demand that we live as we are told. And to make this kingdom even more different from the one in fairy tales, this king is condemned to die as a criminal, a man who sought to overthrow the earthly powers not just of a foreign power that had invaded his homeland, but to overthrow as well the religious and political leaders of his own people.
Moreover, Jesus seems to flub his chance to respond to Pilate when that Roman governor asked him plainly, "Are you the king of the Jews?"
Can we picture this confrontation?
Here stands Jesus. He has been arrested and questioned, tortured by the soldiers charged with his questioning, and mocked by having a crown of thorns jammed into his scalp. This crown was no tiara, nor a simple circle of thorns, as we usually see in Christian art. It was more likely a cap, covering his scalp, causing a good deal of blood to run down his face, ears, and neck. Since we're told that he was slapped repeatedly, his face was also badly bruised. Then the soldiers threw a purple cape around his shoulders and put a reed into his hand to represent the scepter held by a king sitting in judgment. He was quite a sight!
So here he stands before the representative of the Roman empire, which spreads from England in the north to Persia (modern-day Iran) in the east, across the African coast and up the Nile Valley in the south. The armies of Rome have conquered every tribe and nation in that area. Their gods have replaced the gods of the various peoples over whom they rule. Their way of dress, their way of eating, even their Latin language has affected or changed every culture in that swath of empire. Roman roads connect all those lands, so that the people of England have seen oranges from the Mediterranean and Celtic designs grace the jewelry of Roman ladies. The power of Rome is overwhelming, implacable, and absolute.
Now this governor, representing all that, asks this bruised and bloodied man, "Are you the king of the Jews?"
And Jesus answers, "My kingdom is not of this world."
What?
Today, we might ask, "Really? So what planet are you from?" But Pilate knows nothing of other worlds circling our sun, let alone planets circling some far-flung star. What he does understand is that this is evidently a claim that Jesus' kingdom is in the realm of the gods. The mere thought gives him a chill, for despite all that power, Pilate would be considered superstitious today. His culture believes in many gods, and he believes -- as most men in his era believe -- that the Roman empire has grown because their gods are more powerful than the gods of the nations they have conquered. This would include the Jewish god, whose temple gate now is graced with the eagle, symbol of Rome.
Pilate also knows that the gods often take on the form of human beings, in order to visit the earth. So he hesitates. What god is he up against here? What kingdom does Jesus represent? In Matthew's gospel, we are told that Pilate's wife, having had a dream about Jesus coming for judgment, sends him a message, saying, "Have nothing to do with that good man." He may not set much store by dreams but that message may have slowed him down a bit. Who is this man, this bleeding, exhausted half-corpse that stands before him and answers, "My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place"?
Even so, Jesus has certainly stirred up enough trouble to warrant death. So he sentences him to death. Thus he makes an end to the hope of the apostles and the crowds that have followed Jesus into Jerusalem. Because they certainly hoped that Jesus would lead an uprising that would force the Romans to leave Israel alone and blow up their death-star hold on the world. Even James and John had hoped for a kingdom in which they would be regents for Jesus, sitting at his side as he judged the nations.
What kind of an ending is this, when the Good Guy is wearing a crown of thorns rather than a white hat? In what kind of epic tale does the hope of the world die the death of a criminal, nailed to a cross, so that every passerby can add to his misery by throwing things at him and mocking him? We certainly don't talk about George Washington losing hope at Valley Forge! No, we depict him standing in the prow of a boat, crossing the Delaware to engage the British one more time so that we might all be free.
Are we really going to fight for a king who is not going to set us free but rather calls us to live in ways that are not very comfortable for us to contemplate, let alone accomplish? Are we really ready to kneel before this bloody, beaten, humiliated man and bow to his will for us?
For this is the meaning of the Feast of Christ the King. We get to meet the king! We are invited to a banquet to be held in his honor so that we can pledge our loyalty and our way of life in this world and the next. His invitation to us reads something like this:
His Royal Majesty, Jesus of Nazareth, also known as the Christ,
Invites you to become a loyal citizen of His Kingdom
By rejecting all hope of power, glory and wealth in this world.
The favor of a reply is requested today.
Sandra Herrmann is a retired United Methodist pastor living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
From the Redemption of a King to a King of Redemption
by Zan W. Holmes Jr.
2 Samuel 23:1-7
A visitor once entered a large cathedral to spend some time in meditation. As he reflected upon the sins of his own life, he looked up and saw statues of biblical saints that had been placed in great niches along the high walls of the cathedral. Included among them were Moses, David, and Peter. Suddenly he remembered that each one of them was also a person who had sinned and made mistakes in life. But by the grace of God they had been redeemed and were now counted among the saints in the Bible.
To be sure on Christ the King Sunday, our text (2 Samuel 23:1-7) deals with the last words of a king who was redeemed by the grace of God. We remember the occasion of his most notable sin and failure: one evening as he walked around the walls of his palace he saw Bathsheba bathing and sent for her. Although she was the wife of another man, King David slept with her. In order to conceal his deed, he had her husband, Uriah, placed in the forefront of an upcoming battle -- then had his general order the rest of the army to fall back so Uriah would be killed. King David them claimed Bathsheba for himself.
But what made David's sin so great and notable is that David was the king! Uriah was his subject. David represented the host country. Uriah was the Hittite, the stranger, an alien who had married into the tribe. David, the king, represented the powerful. Uriah represented the powerless.
However, David the king was soon to discover that God stands on the side of justice. God sent Nathan, a country preacher, to convict the king of his sin. Nathan simply told David this story:
"There were two men in certain city, the one rich and the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb... Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loathe to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man's lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him." (2 Samuel 12:1-4)
When David heard the story he angrily demanded to know what man had done such a thing. Whereupon Nathan said to the king, "You are the man" (v. 7).
But as we remember the occasion of King David's most notable sin and conviction, we also remember the occasion of his compassion, repentance, and redemption! In response to his conviction, he did not have Nathan beheaded. Nor did he order a cover-up. Instead he fell on his knees and cried out to God, his redeemer:
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin... Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight... Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me... Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. Then will I teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you." (Psalm 51:1-2, 4a, 10, 12-13)
So, in 2 Samuel 23:1-7 we see the fruits of a redeemed king. In his last words he affirms that it is the "spirit of the Lord" that speaks through him (v. 2). In this last will and testament he affirms his commitment to a being who rules with justice and in the fear of the Lord (v. 3). Then he leaves to his successors an "everlasting covenant" made by God (v. 5). In other words, at the heart of the theology of the Davidic Covenant was the understanding that the individual who sat on Jerusalem's throne would ensure the well-being of all individuals within the kingdom.1 By the grace of God, this is the leadership symbolized in David, the redeemed king.
On this Christ the King Sunday, David the redeemed king is also a symbol of hope for us all. It is a symbol of hope for the man who sat in the large cathedral and reflected on his sins. It is a symbol of hope for all who know failure. Redemption is available in every situation. In fact, the good news for us is that we have a king of redemption in Jesus Christ. To be sure, Jesus is a descendant of David, was born in David's home town, Bethlehem, and many call him the Son of David, so that our history of redemption journeys from a redeemed King David to the King of Redemption who is Jesus Christ the Son of David. The grace of God is indeed an awesome thing.
I once heard the story of a dilapidated little shop whose owner was about to go out of business. The floor was unswept, the windows unwashed, the goods in disorder, and the proprietor careless and untidy. One day the king came by, saw the wretched condition of the place, and said to the shopkeeper, "If you will do as I say, I will let you put over the door 'approved by the king.' " The proprietor gladly consented. Everything was changed; the floor was swept, the windows washed, the goods in order, and the keeper himself cleaned up.
Soon customers began to come and money rang in the cash register because of the approval of the king. Hallelujah!
Have you ever let the king take over your life?
Have we ever said: "Into my heart, into my heart, come into my heart, Lord Jesus. Come in today. Come in to stay. Come into my heart, Lord Jesus."
____________
1. Beverly B. Gaventa, editor, Texts for Preaching (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), p. 597.
from When Trouble Comes! Sermons for Sundays After Pentecost, Last Third (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 1996), pp. 45-48.
Seeing the End
by David O. Bales
Revelation 1:4b-8
John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Look! He is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail. So it is to be. Amen. "I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.
-- Revelation 1:4b-8
"At least the preacher wasn't too religious," James said. He pouched out his cheeks as was his older brother manner when speaking the summary of his thoughts.
"And he pronounced 'Smythe' correctly," Dorie said. "Better than that preacher at Aunt Wilma's funeral." She sat at the kitchen table, looking right and left as she spoke to her two brothers. The early evening wind blew hard against the house. Everyone else had left the reception at their father's home. Just the three grown children now, without their spouses, in the kitchen of their dead parents' home.
James and Dorie looked at Phil because, by a lifetime of practice, it was now his turn in the rotation to comment on their father's funeral. Dorie tapped her foot under the kitchen table. James remained standing, arms crossed, back against the refrigerator.
Beside the kitchen window Phil watched the wind strip the last leaves from their parents' giant cherry tree. He was 35 and the youngest. He chewed his gum slowly. His sister and brother waited as they listened to the breeze. Phil was next in the siblings' order to speak.
James, deciding to wait no longer, coughed and offered another observation. "And the music wasn't as bad as I feared." He ended the sentence on an upturn, for Phil to pick up conversation; but, Phil furrowed his brow with a deeper look of concentration.
"I think mom would have liked it," Dorie said, tapping her foot now against the leg of the kitchen table. She turned again to Phil as though handing a baton. But the room fell silent. After two or three minutes, James said, "Come on, Phil." He held out his arms toward Phil. "What did you think of Dad's funeral?"
Phil moved a step toward them, although still half turned to the window. The wind pushed a few drops of rain sideways against the glass. He spoke quietly, "Dad kept saying he wanted to see the end of the building project."
James said, "Absolutely. He was fixated on it. Even when I was here a month ago and he'd entered the hospital for the first time, he'd say, 'I want to see the end of it.' "
Their father had taken the chairmanship of the church's fund-raising for a new building. The congregation had raised the money and the construction of the gym and classroom complex was nearly complete.
"I'm just amazed he got into the religion stuff at all," Dorie said. "He never even talked about church when we were kids. I think neighbors took him to church after Mom died."
"Well, they saw his abilities real fast," James said. "They threw him into the chairmanship after only a couple years. 'I've got to see the end of it,' he'd say. Like he was obsessed. I thought maybe in the last month he'd had a little stroke thrown into his heart problems."
Phil said, "I was able to drive and visit him once a week in the last month and a half before he died, and he had graphs and charts and blueprints in the house. He was pretty sincere about it. 'I got it started. I want to see the end of it.' Seems that's all he could think of."
"But the service," Dorie said, bringing them back to the subject at hand.
"It was short enough," James said as he laughed, "even though the preacher wandered from beginning to end. He seemed like the cowboy who jumped on his horse and rode off in all directions."
"Yeah," Dorie said, "but he made such a big deal out of Dad's peace at the end, even when he read from that Revelations book."
"He was trying to make a point, I could tell," James said. "It sailed over me, and I think over everybody. Who reads Revelations at a funeral? Pretty baffling stuff: alpha, omega."
Dorie said, "I think he said that seven times in seven minutes, and each time talking about how calm Dad had been during the last week."
"That he was," James said. "In fact, a couple times when I was with him in the hospital he smiled and cried at the same time. He wasn't upset. I'm sure, even though he couldn't talk well. And like a recording he mentioned the end again. The last thing he mumbled was that he'd seen the end. And he smiled. I guess I hadn't told you two that."
"No," Dorie said, "you hadn't. He smiled? Said he'd seen the end?"
Phil was chewing his gum harder, brow more wrinkled, nearly a frown. "That Revelation the pastor read." Dorie and James nodded their heads. "The alpha and omega he kept repeating."
"Those are Greek letters," James said. "I wondered when he read it if that's why fraternities got Greek letters."
Phil stopped chewing his gum, "Well, alpha and omega are the beginning and end of the Greek alphabet. And the Bible said that God was the alpha and the omega."
Dorie's foot stopped. Her eyes became very wide. "So God's the beginning," she said as she turned to James who spoke slowly, "and Dad saw the end."
David Bales was a Presbyterian pastor for 33 years, a graduate of San Francisco Theological Seminary. In addition to his ministry he also has taught college: World Religions, Ethics, Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek (lately at College of Idaho, Caldwell). He has been a freelance writer for Stephen Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Interpretation, Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching the Great Texts and other publications. For a year he wrote the online column "In The Original: Insights from Greek and Hebrew for the Lectionary Passages." His books include: Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace, Toward Easter and Beyond, Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story, and To the Cross and Beyond: Cycle A Sermons for Lent and Easter. Dave has been a writer for StoryShare for five years. He can be reached at dobales.com.
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StoryShare, November 22 & 25, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Render Unto Caesar" by Frank Ramirez
"Long Ago and Far Away?" by Sandra Herrmann
"From the Redemption of a King to a King of Redemption" by Zan W. Holmes Jr.
"Seeing the End" by David O. Bales
* * * * * * * *
Render Unto Caesar
by Frank Ramirez
1 Timothy 2:1-7
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.
-- 1 Timothy 2:1-2
Prayer is to be offered for all rulers in the hope that we may live peaceably in society at large -- especially because we are reminded by Paul that Jesus "gave himself as ransom for all" (1 Timothy 2:6). A few decades after the Apostle Paul dictated this strong suggestion that we honor all rulers with prayer and thanksgiving, even though we live under a different set of rules and are truly ruled by Jesus Christ, the king of kings, an anonymous Christian composed a letter to a Roman official named Diognetus about the type of citizen a Christian made. The author set out to counter the rumor that Christians participated in strange and unnatural practices with a description of the equally strange truth -- Christians share a noncomformist life that is a challenge to the world's standards.
"For Christians are not distinguished from the rest of humanity by country, language, or custom. For nowhere do they live in cities of their own, nor do they speak some unusual dialect, nor do they practice an eccentric lifestyle. ... But while they live in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each one's lot was cast, and follow the local customs in dress and food and other aspects of life, at the same time they demonstrate the remarkable and admittedly unusual character of their own citizenship. They live in their own countries, but only as aliens; they participate in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. ... They live on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. ... They love everyone, and by everyone they are persecuted. ... They are put to death, yet they are brought to life."
The author then lists several contemporary customs, such as disposing of unwanted children or sharing spouses, which Christians do NOT take part in, but adds that "they are poor, yet they make many rich; they are in need of everything, yet they abound in everything."1
So how does this work in practice? Fast forward around eighteen centuries when it was necessary for another group of Christians to convince the government under which they found themselves, the Confederate States of America, that they did not present a threat, but lived to serve. During the Civil War the Dunkers, one of the plain people of Pennsylvania, who had spread into the South in search of fertile farmlands, suffered because they refused to take up arms. Property was confiscated, pledges of exemption were broken, and some were killed.
Against this background the experiences of P.R. Wrightsman of Limestone, Tennessee, are as typical as any. In 1862 Wrightsman was the youngest minister in the congregation and was away studying to be a doctor when a council meeting was called by his church after some of their young men were imprisoned by the Confederates. Because he was absent he was the one deputized to go to Richmond to seek their release.
Wrightsman was on a train full of Confederate soldiers when a minister of another faith discovered his stand against war and insisted "This war is different." Wrightsman stood his ground. When he discovered his challenger believed that God had inspired George Washington to go to war, Wrightsman asked him that if he thought so why would he fight against that same country Washington founded. The anger expressed by both the minister and the soldiers put him in jeopardy, but he arrived unharmed and fulfilled his mission.
Over the course of the next few years most of his property was taken by Confederate soldiers. He recalled how late in the war when the soldiers
... came for the last horse they rode up with threats and curses. Their language and manner impressed me that they came with intent to kill me. Part of the squad went to the field for the last horse and part remained with me under their charge. I just stepped inside the stable, stood with my hands upwards, and prayed to my heavenly Father, saying, "Dear Father, save me from these men. Have mercy upon them, and turn them from their evil course, and save thy servant."
I never exercised stronger faith in prayer than at that time. It seemed as if I was speaking face to face with my blessed Lord. When I stepped out to the soldiers I felt that God had answered my prayer, for I could see the Satanic look going down out of their faces like the shadow of a cloud before the bright sunlight.
The soldiers then said to me, "Mr. Wrightsman, can we get some bread?" "O yes," said I, "we are commanded to feed the hungry." I went at once to the kitchen and requested my sisters to cut off a large slice of bread, and butter it for each of them. They did so and I took it out into the yard and handed a slice to each. They thanked me for the bread, bowed their heads, mounted their horses and rode away, taking my last horse with them, however. Feeling sure the Lord had saved my life, I felt happy, "thanked God and took courage." This occurred in the summer of 1863...."
P.R. Wrightsman's thanksgiving, not only for deliverance, but for the vision to see even an enemy as a child of God needing service, is an example in our fractured society to us all to see in those we consider our enemies someone we may serve in God's love.
__________
1. Translation by Frank Ramirez.
Frank Ramirez has served as a pastor for nearly 30 years in Church of the Brethren congregations in Los Angeles, California; Elkhart, Indiana; and Everett, Pennsylvania. A graduate of LaVerne College and Bethany Theological Seminary, Ramirez is the author of numerous books, articles, and short stories. His CSS titles include Partners in Healing, He Took a Towel, The Bee Attitudes, three volumes of Lectionary Worship Aids, and Breakdown in Bethlehem (Christmas 2012).
Long Ago and Far Away?
by Sandra Herrmann
John 18:33-37
"Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away..." So begins George Lucas' Star Wars: Episode 4. Every one of us who had read fairy tales slid down into our seats and reached for our popcorn, knowing very well that we were about to hear a story about Good Guys vs. Bad Guys, fighting for The Right Thing To Happen. The Good Guys were bound to win in the end, overthrowing the Bad Guys and establishing a way of life in which each person is autonomous -- free to live without fear. We expected adventure and a hard fight along the way, but we also expected Luke Skywalker, Hans Solo, and Chewbacca to be given the gold medals all heroes get.
But the story of Jesus goes against all that, even though it starts out with "long, long ago, in a place we see only on television, a baby was born in a stable." This Sunday, the Christian year ends with the crowning of a king and the establishment of a kingdom with a claim on our lives and a demand that we live as we are told. And to make this kingdom even more different from the one in fairy tales, this king is condemned to die as a criminal, a man who sought to overthrow the earthly powers not just of a foreign power that had invaded his homeland, but to overthrow as well the religious and political leaders of his own people.
Moreover, Jesus seems to flub his chance to respond to Pilate when that Roman governor asked him plainly, "Are you the king of the Jews?"
Can we picture this confrontation?
Here stands Jesus. He has been arrested and questioned, tortured by the soldiers charged with his questioning, and mocked by having a crown of thorns jammed into his scalp. This crown was no tiara, nor a simple circle of thorns, as we usually see in Christian art. It was more likely a cap, covering his scalp, causing a good deal of blood to run down his face, ears, and neck. Since we're told that he was slapped repeatedly, his face was also badly bruised. Then the soldiers threw a purple cape around his shoulders and put a reed into his hand to represent the scepter held by a king sitting in judgment. He was quite a sight!
So here he stands before the representative of the Roman empire, which spreads from England in the north to Persia (modern-day Iran) in the east, across the African coast and up the Nile Valley in the south. The armies of Rome have conquered every tribe and nation in that area. Their gods have replaced the gods of the various peoples over whom they rule. Their way of dress, their way of eating, even their Latin language has affected or changed every culture in that swath of empire. Roman roads connect all those lands, so that the people of England have seen oranges from the Mediterranean and Celtic designs grace the jewelry of Roman ladies. The power of Rome is overwhelming, implacable, and absolute.
Now this governor, representing all that, asks this bruised and bloodied man, "Are you the king of the Jews?"
And Jesus answers, "My kingdom is not of this world."
What?
Today, we might ask, "Really? So what planet are you from?" But Pilate knows nothing of other worlds circling our sun, let alone planets circling some far-flung star. What he does understand is that this is evidently a claim that Jesus' kingdom is in the realm of the gods. The mere thought gives him a chill, for despite all that power, Pilate would be considered superstitious today. His culture believes in many gods, and he believes -- as most men in his era believe -- that the Roman empire has grown because their gods are more powerful than the gods of the nations they have conquered. This would include the Jewish god, whose temple gate now is graced with the eagle, symbol of Rome.
Pilate also knows that the gods often take on the form of human beings, in order to visit the earth. So he hesitates. What god is he up against here? What kingdom does Jesus represent? In Matthew's gospel, we are told that Pilate's wife, having had a dream about Jesus coming for judgment, sends him a message, saying, "Have nothing to do with that good man." He may not set much store by dreams but that message may have slowed him down a bit. Who is this man, this bleeding, exhausted half-corpse that stands before him and answers, "My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place"?
Even so, Jesus has certainly stirred up enough trouble to warrant death. So he sentences him to death. Thus he makes an end to the hope of the apostles and the crowds that have followed Jesus into Jerusalem. Because they certainly hoped that Jesus would lead an uprising that would force the Romans to leave Israel alone and blow up their death-star hold on the world. Even James and John had hoped for a kingdom in which they would be regents for Jesus, sitting at his side as he judged the nations.
What kind of an ending is this, when the Good Guy is wearing a crown of thorns rather than a white hat? In what kind of epic tale does the hope of the world die the death of a criminal, nailed to a cross, so that every passerby can add to his misery by throwing things at him and mocking him? We certainly don't talk about George Washington losing hope at Valley Forge! No, we depict him standing in the prow of a boat, crossing the Delaware to engage the British one more time so that we might all be free.
Are we really going to fight for a king who is not going to set us free but rather calls us to live in ways that are not very comfortable for us to contemplate, let alone accomplish? Are we really ready to kneel before this bloody, beaten, humiliated man and bow to his will for us?
For this is the meaning of the Feast of Christ the King. We get to meet the king! We are invited to a banquet to be held in his honor so that we can pledge our loyalty and our way of life in this world and the next. His invitation to us reads something like this:
His Royal Majesty, Jesus of Nazareth, also known as the Christ,
Invites you to become a loyal citizen of His Kingdom
By rejecting all hope of power, glory and wealth in this world.
The favor of a reply is requested today.
Sandra Herrmann is a retired United Methodist pastor living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
From the Redemption of a King to a King of Redemption
by Zan W. Holmes Jr.
2 Samuel 23:1-7
A visitor once entered a large cathedral to spend some time in meditation. As he reflected upon the sins of his own life, he looked up and saw statues of biblical saints that had been placed in great niches along the high walls of the cathedral. Included among them were Moses, David, and Peter. Suddenly he remembered that each one of them was also a person who had sinned and made mistakes in life. But by the grace of God they had been redeemed and were now counted among the saints in the Bible.
To be sure on Christ the King Sunday, our text (2 Samuel 23:1-7) deals with the last words of a king who was redeemed by the grace of God. We remember the occasion of his most notable sin and failure: one evening as he walked around the walls of his palace he saw Bathsheba bathing and sent for her. Although she was the wife of another man, King David slept with her. In order to conceal his deed, he had her husband, Uriah, placed in the forefront of an upcoming battle -- then had his general order the rest of the army to fall back so Uriah would be killed. King David them claimed Bathsheba for himself.
But what made David's sin so great and notable is that David was the king! Uriah was his subject. David represented the host country. Uriah was the Hittite, the stranger, an alien who had married into the tribe. David, the king, represented the powerful. Uriah represented the powerless.
However, David the king was soon to discover that God stands on the side of justice. God sent Nathan, a country preacher, to convict the king of his sin. Nathan simply told David this story:
"There were two men in certain city, the one rich and the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb... Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loathe to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man's lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him." (2 Samuel 12:1-4)
When David heard the story he angrily demanded to know what man had done such a thing. Whereupon Nathan said to the king, "You are the man" (v. 7).
But as we remember the occasion of King David's most notable sin and conviction, we also remember the occasion of his compassion, repentance, and redemption! In response to his conviction, he did not have Nathan beheaded. Nor did he order a cover-up. Instead he fell on his knees and cried out to God, his redeemer:
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin... Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight... Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me... Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. Then will I teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you." (Psalm 51:1-2, 4a, 10, 12-13)
So, in 2 Samuel 23:1-7 we see the fruits of a redeemed king. In his last words he affirms that it is the "spirit of the Lord" that speaks through him (v. 2). In this last will and testament he affirms his commitment to a being who rules with justice and in the fear of the Lord (v. 3). Then he leaves to his successors an "everlasting covenant" made by God (v. 5). In other words, at the heart of the theology of the Davidic Covenant was the understanding that the individual who sat on Jerusalem's throne would ensure the well-being of all individuals within the kingdom.1 By the grace of God, this is the leadership symbolized in David, the redeemed king.
On this Christ the King Sunday, David the redeemed king is also a symbol of hope for us all. It is a symbol of hope for the man who sat in the large cathedral and reflected on his sins. It is a symbol of hope for all who know failure. Redemption is available in every situation. In fact, the good news for us is that we have a king of redemption in Jesus Christ. To be sure, Jesus is a descendant of David, was born in David's home town, Bethlehem, and many call him the Son of David, so that our history of redemption journeys from a redeemed King David to the King of Redemption who is Jesus Christ the Son of David. The grace of God is indeed an awesome thing.
I once heard the story of a dilapidated little shop whose owner was about to go out of business. The floor was unswept, the windows unwashed, the goods in disorder, and the proprietor careless and untidy. One day the king came by, saw the wretched condition of the place, and said to the shopkeeper, "If you will do as I say, I will let you put over the door 'approved by the king.' " The proprietor gladly consented. Everything was changed; the floor was swept, the windows washed, the goods in order, and the keeper himself cleaned up.
Soon customers began to come and money rang in the cash register because of the approval of the king. Hallelujah!
Have you ever let the king take over your life?
Have we ever said: "Into my heart, into my heart, come into my heart, Lord Jesus. Come in today. Come in to stay. Come into my heart, Lord Jesus."
____________
1. Beverly B. Gaventa, editor, Texts for Preaching (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), p. 597.
from When Trouble Comes! Sermons for Sundays After Pentecost, Last Third (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 1996), pp. 45-48.
Seeing the End
by David O. Bales
Revelation 1:4b-8
John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Look! He is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail. So it is to be. Amen. "I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.
-- Revelation 1:4b-8
"At least the preacher wasn't too religious," James said. He pouched out his cheeks as was his older brother manner when speaking the summary of his thoughts.
"And he pronounced 'Smythe' correctly," Dorie said. "Better than that preacher at Aunt Wilma's funeral." She sat at the kitchen table, looking right and left as she spoke to her two brothers. The early evening wind blew hard against the house. Everyone else had left the reception at their father's home. Just the three grown children now, without their spouses, in the kitchen of their dead parents' home.
James and Dorie looked at Phil because, by a lifetime of practice, it was now his turn in the rotation to comment on their father's funeral. Dorie tapped her foot under the kitchen table. James remained standing, arms crossed, back against the refrigerator.
Beside the kitchen window Phil watched the wind strip the last leaves from their parents' giant cherry tree. He was 35 and the youngest. He chewed his gum slowly. His sister and brother waited as they listened to the breeze. Phil was next in the siblings' order to speak.
James, deciding to wait no longer, coughed and offered another observation. "And the music wasn't as bad as I feared." He ended the sentence on an upturn, for Phil to pick up conversation; but, Phil furrowed his brow with a deeper look of concentration.
"I think mom would have liked it," Dorie said, tapping her foot now against the leg of the kitchen table. She turned again to Phil as though handing a baton. But the room fell silent. After two or three minutes, James said, "Come on, Phil." He held out his arms toward Phil. "What did you think of Dad's funeral?"
Phil moved a step toward them, although still half turned to the window. The wind pushed a few drops of rain sideways against the glass. He spoke quietly, "Dad kept saying he wanted to see the end of the building project."
James said, "Absolutely. He was fixated on it. Even when I was here a month ago and he'd entered the hospital for the first time, he'd say, 'I want to see the end of it.' "
Their father had taken the chairmanship of the church's fund-raising for a new building. The congregation had raised the money and the construction of the gym and classroom complex was nearly complete.
"I'm just amazed he got into the religion stuff at all," Dorie said. "He never even talked about church when we were kids. I think neighbors took him to church after Mom died."
"Well, they saw his abilities real fast," James said. "They threw him into the chairmanship after only a couple years. 'I've got to see the end of it,' he'd say. Like he was obsessed. I thought maybe in the last month he'd had a little stroke thrown into his heart problems."
Phil said, "I was able to drive and visit him once a week in the last month and a half before he died, and he had graphs and charts and blueprints in the house. He was pretty sincere about it. 'I got it started. I want to see the end of it.' Seems that's all he could think of."
"But the service," Dorie said, bringing them back to the subject at hand.
"It was short enough," James said as he laughed, "even though the preacher wandered from beginning to end. He seemed like the cowboy who jumped on his horse and rode off in all directions."
"Yeah," Dorie said, "but he made such a big deal out of Dad's peace at the end, even when he read from that Revelations book."
"He was trying to make a point, I could tell," James said. "It sailed over me, and I think over everybody. Who reads Revelations at a funeral? Pretty baffling stuff: alpha, omega."
Dorie said, "I think he said that seven times in seven minutes, and each time talking about how calm Dad had been during the last week."
"That he was," James said. "In fact, a couple times when I was with him in the hospital he smiled and cried at the same time. He wasn't upset. I'm sure, even though he couldn't talk well. And like a recording he mentioned the end again. The last thing he mumbled was that he'd seen the end. And he smiled. I guess I hadn't told you two that."
"No," Dorie said, "you hadn't. He smiled? Said he'd seen the end?"
Phil was chewing his gum harder, brow more wrinkled, nearly a frown. "That Revelation the pastor read." Dorie and James nodded their heads. "The alpha and omega he kept repeating."
"Those are Greek letters," James said. "I wondered when he read it if that's why fraternities got Greek letters."
Phil stopped chewing his gum, "Well, alpha and omega are the beginning and end of the Greek alphabet. And the Bible said that God was the alpha and the omega."
Dorie's foot stopped. Her eyes became very wide. "So God's the beginning," she said as she turned to James who spoke slowly, "and Dad saw the end."
David Bales was a Presbyterian pastor for 33 years, a graduate of San Francisco Theological Seminary. In addition to his ministry he also has taught college: World Religions, Ethics, Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek (lately at College of Idaho, Caldwell). He has been a freelance writer for Stephen Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Interpretation, Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching the Great Texts and other publications. For a year he wrote the online column "In The Original: Insights from Greek and Hebrew for the Lectionary Passages." His books include: Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace, Toward Easter and Beyond, Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story, and To the Cross and Beyond: Cycle A Sermons for Lent and Easter. Dave has been a writer for StoryShare for five years. He can be reached at dobales.com.
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StoryShare, November 22 & 25, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
