November 20, 2011 Sermon by Peter Terpenning
Community United Church of Christ
Boulder, Colorado
“A Different Kind of King”
Matthew 25:31-40, Jean Vanier quote, Psalm 82
The scene in Matthew today is the heavenly court, and Jesus is on the throne, judging people at the last judgment. This is a common passage for this Sunday, the last Sunday of the church year, which is traditionally called, “Christ the King Sunday”. Christ is the king in the divine court, and is separating the good from the bad, the sheep from the goats. I am uncomfortable with this image and frankly; I reject the idea that there will be a last judgment like this, with some people being accepted and others thrown down for eternal punishment. Jesus’ message of love only makes sense to me if I think of all people as accepted, now and forever, all beloved, all embraced by God. But the basis of the judgment in Matthew does make sense to me: that Jesus would identify with the least of these, the oppressed, sick, imprisoned and hungry. Those gathered at the throne who have lived their lives as part of the Kingdom are those who fed the hungry, visited the prisoner, welcomed the stranger, and sought liberty for the oppressed. Those who cared for the least of these are part of the Kingdom. Stanley Hauerwas writes, “The difference between followers of Jesus and those who do not know Jesus is that those who have seen Jesus no longer have any excuse to avoid ‘the least of these.”
I wholeheartedly embrace this idea that whether we have lived as followers of Jesus has little to do with what we believe, or what we know, or if we’ve accepted Jesus as our personal savior – but with what we did for the least of these; did we welcome God in all people, did we feed the hungry and serve those in need? Centuries after the death of Jesus, the best way we can encounter him in the world is in the people who are on the fringes of society, those in the margins, those who are outcaste, sick or poor.
I invite you to look at the icon I have posted around in various places in the sanctuary today: “Christ of the Margins”. This icon, painted by Br. Robert Lentz, shows Jesus Christ with a barbed wire fence, reminiscent of photos of Palestinian refugees and prisoners of war staring out of camps or prisons. Contemplate this image for a bit. It doesn’t show if Jesus is on the inside of the wire, a prisoner, or the outside, looking in at us. In terms of Matthew 25, I think of Jesus as the prisoner – and what we do for the prisoner or refugee, we do for Christ.
The other image that comes to my mind today is (probably inevitably) the image of the children of Guatemala I met on our work trip. I think of one in particular who was part of one of the families I worked with: Brian. Brian was about 8, a quiet boy who didn’t run with the wild boys out in the street, but stayed in the compound with us as we worked on the stove, watching, smiling shyly when I talked to him. Eagerly helping if given a job. Intelligent eyes evaluating me and the world of poverty in which he was born: his eyes quiet, bright, and a little sad. Surely, whatever I did for Brian, I did it for Christ.
Just for the record, I reject the image of Christ the king. There may have been a time in history when it made sense to call Jesus a king. There were good kings, like King Wenceslas of Bohemian, who helped the poor, and supplied them with fresh water and supposedly fought a personal combat with another king in order to preserve the lives of the common soldiers. But most kings have not embodied Christ. And the monarchies today seem to me to have little to do with God’s bias for the poor. They are somewhat interesting celebrities, who put on good marriages, and occasionally do something to help the world, like Princess Diana’s work with AIDS and unwed mothers. But mostly, they are wealthy figureheads, irrelevant to the realities of life in the world today. Peter Woods, a theologian I read as I studied Matthew 25 noted that he preferred the image of Christ the Comrade. A comrade is a friend who stands with us in the trenches of inhuman wars – who shares our suffering and fear, who lights our cigarette as we contemplate going “over the top” and charging the enemy. Christ the king is a meaningless image in the modern world. But Christ the comrade, or Christ the friend, Christ the impoverished child, or Christ the imprisoned refugee is helpful. Where is Christ in this world? If he is not with Brian, my Guatemalan friend, then I have little use for him. If he is not with Palestinian refugees, and the men and women rotting in our nation’s jails, and AIDS victims, and those struggling to live with cancer and disease – then I don’t know where he is. So I reject Christ the King Sunday – in favor of “Christ in the Least of These.”
Now I know that the early church was holding up Jesus Christ as king or emperor in contrast to the kings and emperors of this world. They were saying that Christ is the true emperor, not Caesar, and that the powers of earthly rulers were miniscule in comparison to Christ. I agree with this, but it is remote from me. Emperors and kings do not resonate with me anymore. But it worth asking what kind of king or ruler would Jesus be? Clearly he would be a different kind of king. He would be one who walks humbly with the common people. He would be one who suffers with the people when they are hungry and tries to do something to help. He would be the one who takes people’s places when they are tortured, or imprisoned, and let’s them go free. Who pardons those on death row or even dies in their place. If Jesus is a king, then he is a different kind of king than the world has ever seen.
A Franciscan Blessing is a benediction in the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi who famously gave up his inheritance to serve the poor. I close with four examples of Franciscan blessings from the twentieth century:
May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.
May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world; so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.