Thy Kingdom Come
There is a movie that I love. It is called “The King” and it stars that skinny guy, Timothy Challoner. He plays the English king Henry V who once was a playboy and then became king and had to deal with serious things. One of the serious things he had to deal with was a war with France. Henry’s troops were those who defeated a bigger and better situated French army in the almost mythical Battle of Agincourt. The part I really love is that Henry, in the movie, put his life on the line in the battle along with his men. But, when the battle was over and victory won, a French survivor challenged him to personal combat. He had to take the challenge. You can see the exhaustion on Henry’s face. He was facing the awful disappointment of being the only person alive at that moment who might not survive to enjoy life. He was the king and he had to give everything.
Today, we are observing the feast day of another person we call a “king.” The Feast of Christ the King. It is a good feast. At the same time, it is the last Sunday of Pentecost, and it gives us a chance to sum up Pentecost by thinking about the mutual relationship between God and us.
But first a word about earthly kingship or government. It seems that God does not really approve of kingship. And I also think that he just tolerates presidents and prime ministers and such. This is not a surprise. Look: Jesus does not seem to have favored money which is another gigantic human institution. (Matthew 6:24) In addition, Jesus, the carpenter’s son, did not belong to any ruling class. Which leads me to say that, in these days, we should beware of hating those in power. Hate is not Jesus’ Way. And hate is a boomerang that comes back at your heart.
Anyway, here is a story about God and kingship generally. The idea of kingship comes up in the Bible for the first time in the first book of Samuel. Just to remind you, Samuel is the prophet we read about last Sunday. He was the son of Hannah who gave him up to God in her joy at having this baby after years of being unable to conceive. (1 Samuel 1-3)
Samuel became a leader of the Israelites, a people whose formation was supposed to be religious. These people decided that they should have a king like all the other nations. Samuel was upset. This was maybe because he wouldn’t be Israel’s boss anymore. He talked to God about the issue of a king, and God said to him that the people were not rejecting Samuel, but they were rejecting God. At God’s command, Samuel goes back to the people and tells them how bad kings can be and how they will tax and take, command and bully. But the people still want a king. So, God kind of throws up his hands and tells Samuel to get them one. (Samuel 8) And the rest of the Bible is about how poorly we’ve done.
Why does God say to Samuel that the people are rejecting him? Well, from the very beginning, and now too, God has wanted to be our governor and has not wanted anybody else to take up that role. I think this is evident in the story of Adam and Eve. God walks in the Garden with them. He has made them – and us – in his image. (Genesis 1:27) Genesis gives us the most beautiful narration of our state of intimacy with God. This is a story, but it is a story that grasps at explaining the depths of the intimacy God wants. Psalm says: The Lord speaks to my heart, “Seek my face.”
That God wants this intimacy is pretty amazing. Because even though God is our breath, our skin, our beating heart, he is also almighty and powerful. He is a creator, a mover, a shaker, a looker into billions of hearts of humans – and, I hope, the hearts of animals too. (I say “I hope”, but I’m actually pretty sure.). This is the God that Daniel describes in today’s reading. It is the God of today’s Psalm. It is the Jesus in today’s passage from Revelation. This is God on his throne in the “Holy, Holy, Holy” we sing at Communion. (Isaiah 6:2)
This God of Daniel and the others really fits our idea of kingship. He inspires the great cathedrals He makes the change of seasons right now so lovely and awesome. The stars wordlessly sing his praises in Psalm 8. He is the amazing storm described in Psalm 29.
But let’s not forget this is the same God who wants intimacy. God definitely has the almighty part covered. But he never gives up on the intimate part. It requires his constant work because he has to work on us. So, in prayer, we can sometimes sense the privilege of how the kingly God of Daniel, this great king that I just talked about, bends his ear to us. But there is more the dark mirror that Saint Paul mentions. God’s almighty kingship is so giving that he gives us a part of himself. The New Testament is full of this idea. For one thing, as Jesus says, I am the vine, you are the branches. (John 15:5) That is a description of real closeness. And Paul says: Because you are his sons and daughters God sent the Spirit of his son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out “Abba, Father.” (Galatians 4:6) Paul also says that when we’re in trouble, the Spirit actually does the praying for us. (Romans 8:26)
For a king, this intimacy, this giving, is pretty amazing. It reminds me of Henry V who had to put his life on the line in the movie. And Henry reminds me of the king in today’s Gospel.
In today’s Gospel, there is a king who puts his life on the front line too. He does not fit our exalted ideas of kingship. Jesus stands in front of Pontius Pilate who is the kind of authority God seems to be wary of. Jesus lets Pilate control him as never before has happened in the Bible. Jesus is a mute king. He surrenders everything to get us back to Eden where he made us in his image. This is how much he wants to pull us through the door of the Tomb and through the Gate of Eden, the garden that represents how things should be.
Now, Paul says Jesus emptied himself. (Philippians 2:7) I would say that the emptying is the Bible’s rock-bottom idea of kingship. You may say and I do too: Well, that’s nice. But what kind of king is this that ignored the slaughterhouse of World War I and the slaughterhouse of World War II, and ignores the slaughterhouses of today?? Well, I don’t know. And I think I don’t know because our whole idea of governance and kingship and politics is very wrong. As God said to Samuel, “They have rejected me.” And I do know that we are always in trouble. Paul says that all of creation is groaning until the end of time. (Romans 8:26-27) And this seems verified by reading the news.
Well, we do have the great virtue of Hope. To be honest, I disagree with Saint Paul – gasp — because I think Hope is the greatest virtue. Hope inspires us to do what Jesus pointed out. And we have to honor what he did! And, since Jesus was gentle and humble of heart, and will give rest to everyone who is weary and burdened, just like us, every little thing we do is a big thing! (Matthew 11:28-29) Somehow, I think that the narrow way that Jesus talks about is not a way that confines us by rules or avoidance of sin or whatever. (Matthew 7:13-14) It is narrow because it is small. It is small because we divest ourselves of our own crowns. It is small because Jesus doesn’t seem really to expect us to do a whole lot.
So, get into the Kingdom. Start praying even if you’re wordlessly groaning or even swearing. Visit a friend. Visit the sick. Give to the stewardship campaign. Sing out those hymns. To my great surprise, a cousin in Texas belongs to a Baptist group that goes to disaster areas and make meals. Do that if you have a hankering for road trips. Or stay at home and become a vestry or Bishop’s Committee candidate. Support Bread for the World. This is all how good people support the kingdom. This is the narrow way.
Besides, what else do you expect that we can do? We don’t hold the levers of worldly power any more than the early Christians did. We don’t even understand the levers of worldly power on their own terms. But every little thing keeps our hearts alive and honors the generosity of Jesus the silent king who himself did so very little in front of Pontius Pilate.
Amen.
