Henrietta
United
Rev. Martha Koenig Stone
November 22, 2009
John 18:33-37
“The Power of Giving”
In the circle of the wider
Church, today is called “Christ the King” Sunday. It comes at the end of the church year, on
the last Sunday of the season of Pentecost, right before the beginning of Advent. It is the day when we sing glorious hymns
about God’s coming Kingdom and Christ’s triumph over the powers of this
world. Jesus Christ is King of Kings and
Lord of Lords! Hallelujah!
But what kind of King is
Jesus? Who is this king whom we worship
and sing about and give our allegiance to, and try our best to follow? In what Kingdom does he rule? I want to explore that question a bit this
morning.
In the story we read, Jesus is
on trial for treason. The word is out
that he might be the long awaited Savior of the Jewish people, the Messiah, the
anointed King who will come and overthrow the Roman Emperor and establish a
realm of peace and justice. And so he is
accused of trying to overthrow the government in
And so, when Jesus comes to
trial, Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor wants to gather the facts and see
whether he is a threat. He wants to know what Jesus might be planning.
“Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” he asks. Has Jesus gathered an army, or stockpiled
weapons? Has he given away any state
secrets, or spied on anyone important?
Has he asserted the right to rule in place of the emperor—stirred up any
anti-government sentiment? Has he
planned any terrorist plots? What are
his plans? “Are you the King of the
Jews?” Pilate asks.
But Jesus hasn’t done any of
the things you might expect of someone plotting against a brutal government. He hasn’t amassed armies; he has been feeding
crowds. He has not put himself above
others; he has mixed in among the folks with the most troubles. He hasn’t sought out glitz and glamour, fame
and fortune; he has offered attention and dignity to people at the margins of
society. What kind of a king is this?
When I was little, we used to
play a game called “King of the Hill.” The
object of the game was to get up on something, like a chair or the sofa, and
stay up there, while keeping everyone else off.
We would climb and wiggle our way up, pushing others down as we climbed,
until finally we made it to the top…only to be pulled down by the next person
who was trying to be king.
This pattern of putting
others down to build oneself up threads itself all through the fabric of our
lives. Children race to be able to say, “I got there first!” Executives work their way up the corporate
ladder by aggressive techniques and “cutting edge” ideas. Job seekers craft and re-craft their résumés
to make themselves look perfect for the job.
Politicians spend millions on attack adds to discredit their
opponents. Nations wage war and shed
blood, when kings—and presidents—vie for power.
And we church people—we get
caught up in the struggle too. There’s a
part of us that wants to hail Jesus as a glorious king in that worldly
sense. We want to show how great he is, how
powerful he is, and we want to feel as though we’re right up there with
him. We sing about him in our hymns as a
victorious ruler, and pretty soon we start to think that our way of worshiping
is better than anyone else’s, and that our understanding of God is really
superior to all others, and that, really, other folks are pretty backwards or
just plain weird, or even dangerous…and it isn’t long before we start stepping
on other people’s toes, and imagining that we’re better than everyone else. Our history has been full of brutal, bloody
attempts to impose Christianity on people around the world.
When we read this story of
Jesus’ trial, though, we know the context and the ending of the story. We know that he is walking steadily toward
crucifixion, and we remember that his kingship does not depend on fighting
his way to the top. “My kingdom is
not of this world.” Jesus says. People followed him, not so they could climb
the social ladder, but because he helped them to think about their
relationships with God and each other.
Jesus’ power is not in the strength of his stock portfolio, but the
breadth of his service. He challenges
unjust systems of authority, not with weapons, but with truth. Jesus is authoritative because he helps people
evaluate their lives in terms of their service to others, not in terms of how
many servants they have. Jesus is King,
not because he has sought out personal advantage, but because he seeks the
welfare of everyone. People
love Jesus, not because he demands their obedience and allegiance, but because
he loves them and gives himself to them. And Jesus gives himself, not to control and
manipulate others, but to lift up others and to heal what is broken.
Jesus’ kingdom is not like
the nations of this world, where the powerful lord it over others. His kingdom is about pointing to the truth of
God’s reign, a reign of love.
Fred Trost, a UCC pastor and
former Wisconsin Conference Minister, once described to me a painting hanging
somewhere in
As Christians, we sometimes
look to Jesus and say, “Ah, here’s the Christ toward whom John was
pointing—this is the fulfillment of all the scriptures before him. Jesus is the King we have awaited!” Full stop. And yet…if Christ is truly King for
us, then we have to stop mimicking those other kings who step on the little guy
to get where they are. We have to start
pointing to God, and God’s power, and God’s mercy, and God’s care for every
single creature, indeed for the entire cosmos.
This is the King we sing about. This is the King we follow. A servant Christ. A giving King. A leader who gives himself
for others to build a realm where everyone is welcome at the top of the hill. If Christ is King, it is not because he has
put himself above others, but because he demonstrates God’s power, God’s realm,
and God’s vision for how the world can be.
And what is that vision? In God’s realm, people speak and listen to
truth. In the reign of Christ, people
don’t need to rely on weapons for power.
And children don’t go without food or clothing. Husbands don’t beat or demean their wives,
and governments do not vie for territory.
In Christ’s establishment, God is sovereign, and leaders are servants,
and sharing by everyone means no one goes without. What a glorious realm this is! There are signs of it all around us, and
Jesus points the way to its fulfillment.
But this vision is not the
possession of Christians alone. As
Pastor Dave noted in the HUCC Happenings this week, there was a very special
event a few days ago that underlines how our Christian vision of God’s realm
ties into the best hopes and dreams of others as well. November
12, 2009 was the date of the unveiling of the Charter for Compassion (below).
The Charter for Compassion is an open and collaborative effort that began early
in 2008 when author and religious commentator Karen Armstrong won the TED Prize
(Technology Entertainment Design). This award is given by a distinguished
community of people. It grants to the recipient “one wish to change the world.”
Karen’s wish: “I wish that you would help with the creation, launch and
propagation of a Charter for Compassion, crafted by a group of leading
inspirational thinkers from the three Abrahamic traditions of Judaism,
Christianity and Islam and based on the fundamental principles of universal
justice and respect.”
With the launch of a website,
people of all nations, all faiths, all backgrounds, submitted their own words
for inclusion in the Charter. A group of eighteen multi-faith, multi-national
thinkers and leaders crafted the Charter from the world's online
submissions. The charter begins with
these words:
“The
principle of compassion lies at
the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us always
to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves. Compassion impels us to
work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone
ourselves from the centre of our world and put another there, and to honor the
inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without
exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.”
The power of nations is
temporary, but the power of compassion keeps springing up, over and over, in
countless ways, all over the earth. The
power of violence and domination destroys and limits others, but the power of
giving builds up and empowers others, so that communities can grow and
thrive.
That’s the vision that
motivates our giving on this stewardship Sunday. We are called by Christ to participate in
weaving the fabric of God’s realm—by bringing our offerings and our pledges; by
offering our time and talents; by praying for the church and the world; by
showing up at Church and saying, “I’m here!
I’m with you!”; by sharing our compassion within and beyond the
church; and even by asking for help when we are old or sick or weary or
discouraged, so that someone else can have a turn to experience the deep
satisfaction of giving. Thanks be to God, for the example and Spirit of Christ, who
welcomes us to share in the power of giving!
Let us pray: Holy God, in this Thanksgiving week we are
truly thankful that you have shown us the truth of compassion and the power of
giving. Following Christ, our Sovereign
and Savior, may we reach down from our hills of privilege and fear, and lift up
others with courage and compassion.
Building on our past and living fully in the present, may we strive
together toward your coming realm of peace. Amen.