Monday, 25 November 2019

Sun worship, 24 Nov: 'Christ the King'

READINGS/ Col. 1:13-23;  Luke 1:68-79; Luke 23:33-43

SERMON
Let’s pray: may the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer, Amen.

It is an object of power –
small, and beautiful,
perfectly crafted, and pleasing to the eye.
Highly polished gold gleams, catching the light.
All who see it are overcome with desire for it –
they would move heaven and earth for it,
sacrifice all for the love and want of it...
It is an object of power –
small, and beautiful, and deadly
to all who wear it and wield it apart from its creator.
The ring was crafted long ago by one who desired above all else,
to have power over all things.
But the ring was lost during a great battle and over centuries a desperate search
has been taking place by its master,
and by those who would prevent the ring from ever being reunited with him.
It is an object of power –
small, and beautiful, and deadly
to all creatures and to all of creation should its master ever wear it.
In the past, some, who meant well, tried to master the ring –
hoping to use its power for good but it proved to be their undoing:
lured by its gleam, they were lost,
and were corrupted by its immense power.
The only hope, then, is to place this
small and beautiful and deadly object of power
out of harm’s way:
it must be destroyed...

Power.
If the great saga of The Lord of the Rings had to be described in one word,
then ‘power’ would be that word.
All the action, all the motivations, are driven by power –
the craving for it no matter the cost,
the fear of it –
how it can destroy, and how it can be misused.
The story is a cautionary tale of how absolute power can corrupt:
a tale giving us a glimpse of what leadership looks like when it is driven
by the fuel of power for power’s sake –
power without responsibility,
power used without accountability...
It shows, also, that, even with the best of intentions –
as the old saying goes:
absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Power is a seductive and dangerous thing.

In the Lord of the Rings, we get a sense of the character
of the maker of the ring of power –
there is nothing he will not do to get the ring back;
he rules by fear,
he uses violence to get what he wants,
he is a master of deception,
he is a bringer of war,
a sower of suspicion, mistrust, and division.
Those who follow him are expendable,
small beer to his great ambition for world domination.
He is a bringer of darkness and those who serve him live in the shadows.
His is a rule that brings despair and hopelessness.
If he were to get the ring back, he would rule the world,
and his reign would last forever
and it would be wholly awful.

Against this terrifying foe, the task to destroy the ring seems hopeless...
And here’s the counterpoint in the story:
we see another kind of power –
the power of hope, even in the darkest of situations.
Hope’s power brings with it the steely determination
to resist the darkness and to aim for the light –
to fight to make the world a better place:
to redeem power itself,
so that those who are in positions of power
lead not for their own sake, but for the sake of others...
not for selfish ambition, but in selfless service
so that the darkness disappears and all can stop living in the shadows,
and thrive in the glorious light together.
The writer of The Lord of the Rings,
J. R. R. Tolkien, was a man with a deep faith –
and his faith is the bedrock upon which the great themes
within his epic tale are built upon.

Power.
On this last day of the church year,
perhaps it is no coincidence that the readings we have,
that the theme we’re given,
is centred upon Christ as King.
At this end-point of the Christian year,
it is good to stop and reflect upon who we follow,
who it is we look to for meaning in our lives,
and for the strength to keep walking in faith.
And, as we think of Christ as King,
we find ourselves faced with quite a different
understanding of power, and of the way it’s used.

In Colossians, we see Jesus described as
‘firstborn over all creation’
for by him all things were created...
even those who themselves sit upon thrones of power owe that power to Jesus.
It is only by his power that all things are held together.
He is the Head of the church;
his power is such that he was the first to overcome death,
so that, through it, we too might live.
He uses his power to reconcile people to God.
Christ the King, as shown in Colossians,
reminds us that, without him, nothing would exist:
it is only through his power that we are here.
And, only his ongoing power keeps everything from falling
and shattering into nothingness.
In him, we live and breathe, and move,
and are reconciled with God.

In the first of our readings from Luke,
we hear Zechariah talk of his son John,
and speak of the coming of Jesus –
whose power is seen as something that delivers people;
and here, power is used with the word mercy.
With Christ’s coming, we see the power of light over darkness –
‘the rising sun will come to us from heaven
to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death’
and we see that his reign is one marked by guiding his people onto ‘the path of peace.’
At the end of the year, as we look back, so we look forward.
And in this first reading from Luke,
we see new beginnings, and we see the power of hope –
Christ, the King, delivers us from the darkness, brings us out of the shadows,
has the power to end conflict so that all are reconciled to one another.

In our second reading from Luke,
we find a strange kingship and power shown in a jolting, and disconcerting manner.
In contrast to the other two positive and glowing, hopeful readings,
we find ourselves... at the foot of the Cross.
We see Jesus, the King,
as political prisoner,
as religious outcast.
We see a man,
racked with pain,
looking down upon a crowd.
We see him watch those who take delight in his agony
and hear, as he does,
the harsh voices dripping with venom, spewing vitriol and hate
as they mock his mangled body.
We see him...
see his power seemingly stripped away;
we see him...
stripped of clothing,
stripped of dignity,
being stripped of life itself...
and even in the midst of the horror of it,
we see him,
hanging there, between two criminals,
and hear him speaking words of comfort,
words of reconciliation,
words of promise and blessing and Paradise,
to one of these companions in death...

Firstborn of all creation,
hope of our salvation,
sufferer of crucifixion...
This, this is our King –
stripping himself of power so that we might come out of the darkness
and into his marvellous light;
this is our King –
who gave of himself utterly, selflessly, for us...
This is our King –
who shows us that true power comes at a cost:
not at the expense of others,
but at the expense of self for others.
Here, at the very centre of this scene of utter powerlessness...
we find, strangely, the beating heart of where true power lives,
for only true power has the strength to choose to show such complete vulnerability....
This is our King –
who, even while suffering and exposed and vulnerable
can still offer words of comfort to another:
‘Today, you will be with me in Paradise.’

Power.
On this last day of the church year,
on this Christ the King Sunday,
we are reminded again of what true power is –
it’s about strength, but not about brute force;
it’s about using words to speak creation into being,
as well as speaking comfort from a Cross;
it’s about showing a different way,
breaking the cycle violence,
and finding the way of peace.
It’s about suffering and dying...
and it doesn’t end there –
for it’s about hope and new life, and the promise of new beginnings.

We are living – have been living – in challenging times.
We watch as governments seem broken,
as world leaders seem driven by power for the sake of power itself
and their own self-seeking ambitions...
we hear lies and false news
and wonder who is speaking truth to power –
where is the accountability,
the responsibility;
the stability?
We feel the divisions,
and sometimes experience a sense of living in the shadows not the light...

Who do we look to in such a time as this?
Who will show us what power – used well and wisely looks like?
Who will strengthen us and help us keep on going
with words of comfort, and blessing?
Who will encourage us to offer words of comfort and blessing to others?
Jesus Christ, our King:
firstborn of all creation,
hope of our salvation,
sufferer of crucifixion,
living proof of resurrection.
We look to him;
are strengthened by him,
are encouraged by our friends and companions in the faith to keep on going.
We find ways to walk as he walked through life,
for he is our King,
for he has shown us the way,
for he has faith in us that we can follow him.
As we listen to others,
as we protect, and comfort, reconcile, and bless...
as we live our lives using the power we have in service and care for others –
we find that the most radical manifesto ever imagined and dreamt of
is the power of love.

Power.
On this last day of the church year,
we remind ourselves of who our King is,
as we step forward into a new church year and, move into the season of Advent:
the season of watching and waiting,
of yearning and longing for Christ’s coming,
and, as we hold firm to God’s promise of deliverance,
we remember in hope that life, here and now,
and in the heavenly hereafter,
can be better than this.
We walk into Advent,
and wait for the coming of the light –
and for the coming of new life
as we strain to hear the first cries of the babe in the manger.
We walk into Advent
even though we live in uncertain times,
even though we may feel afraid and wonder what will come.
We walk into Advent,
and walk into each new day with confidence –
for even though we may not have confidence
in earthly powers,
we can have confidence in Christ, our King.
He is our hope.
And he is the one,
who speaks comfort to our fears,
reminds us that we are reconciled with God,
and who offers us
words of promise and blessing...
and who shows us the way to Paradise.

Let’s pray:
Christ our King –
Word of life...
you are God’s ‘good news’ story.
The daily news reads like bad news,
stories of death and destruction
litter the front pages,
crying for attention.
that we sometimes cannot bear to give.

The submitted ‘copy’
of the story in our world
is one of tyranny and oppression,
greed and a lack of care,
inhumanity and desperation
and makes our hearts cry:
‘God, where are you?’

Yet within us lies
the sovereign truth of love
which reminds that the past
has held atrocities that
the present does not know,
and the future holds a promise
that the present cannot crush.

And so, in your strength,
the strength of the
Word of the One
who walked the earth as the living God,
we will endure,
we will rejoice
and so, we will hold faith
that humanity will endure,
humanity will rejoice.
Christ, our King,
You came as a babe,
you lived and breathed,
that we can know that God lives
and that we too shall live.
What peace,
what hope,
what promise is this?
It is the promise of God,
the peace of God,
the promise of life,
the peace of life.
It is blessing. ...
It is your good news story,
Christ, our King,
and it is enough. Amen.

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