True Kingship

'When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots to divide his clothing. The people stood by, watching Jesus on the cross; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!" The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!" There was also an inscription over him, "This is the King of the Jews."

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." He replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."'

--Luke 23: 33-43

One lasting image of kingship for me is Arthur, King of the Britons, giving his credentials to Dennis and unnamed, poor woman – who, it should be noted, didn’t vote for him.  I'll let the scene speak for itself:

King Arthur meets his constituents. 

That scene in the early moments of Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a classic. While our system isn’t perfect, at least we don’t rely on strange women distributing swords to declare who our leaders will be - though there are some years when I wonder if that wouldn't be better. In a world that has fewer and fewer traditional monarchies – and in a country where we literally fought a war over whether or not we should keep being part of one – we may not think much about what kingship or sovereignty means on a daily basis, but the celebration of Christ the King comes around each year to invite us to do just that, and what’s more, it reminds us that our true king turns the whole concept of kingship on its head.

Christ the King Sunday was celebrated by Episcopalians, Roman Catholics, and a few other Protestants this past Sunday. It marks the final day of the liturgical calendar, the last Sunday of Ordinary Time. The day was created in 1925 by Pope Pius XI, making it one of the newest Christian feasts. The world was just seven years removed from the Great War, but fascism was on the rise, and in less than 15 years there would be a Second World War.  In response to the growing popularity of authoritarianism, the pope wrote in his encyclical Quas Primas, that the faithful should gain strength and courage form the celebration of this new feast, as they were reminded that Christ must reign in their hearts, minds wills, and bodies, and that the leaders and nations would see that they were bound to give respect to Christ and see that the Church had the right to freedom and immunity from the state. It may not carry the same weight in our Episcopal tradition as it does for our Roman Catholic siblings, but Christ the King was a day created in a time when the world most needed to remember that Jesus is the only true sovereign, and some might argue that we find ourselves at such a time once again.

A visible reminder for us here Good Shepherd in Asheboro is our Christus Rex – literally ‘Christ the King’ – which dominates our sanctuary. Those entering the space are drawn to it, as Jesus' arms are outstretched to welcome everyone into our space and to offer comfort and solace. It is both a powerful image - signifying Jesus' victory over sin and death and his reign over the universe - as well as one of vulnerability - as his wounds are still visible, if you are close enough to see them. 

The Christus Rex at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Asheboro, NC.

Much has been made of art depicting a victorious, kingly Jesus. As Christianity spread throughout the known world – particularly after the First Crusades in the 11th century – Jesus was depicted more and more as a conquering warrior, but when we look at the readings prescribed for Christ the King Sunday – not only this year but every year of our liturgical cycle -  ‘victorious’, ‘conquering’, and ‘warrior’ aren’t the words I suspect we’d use to describe the kingship of Jesus. 

Especially given where we find him in our Gospel text this year – at the place called the Skull. It’s here that the King of Glory reigns. And what are the words, the characteristics that we might use to describe his kingship? There’s forgiveness – Jesus asking God to forgive the very people who are killing and mocking him, for they know not what they are doing. There’s grace for the criminals, the seditionists, who are crucified with them, as the first derides Jesus, but he doesn’t retort or condemn him, and when the second asks Jesus to simply remember him, Jesus doesn’t tell him he needs to be baptized first, nor does he chastise him for his crimes, but he gives him the free gift of pardon, reminding everyone for all time that in his kingdom even condemned criminals can be redeemed. There’s a cross instead of a throne – the one and noble tree, to borrow the words of the Pange Lingua that we sing during Holy Week. There’s a crown of thorns – a derisive gesture on the part of the soldiers who crucified him – instead of jewels. Let’s face it, we whatever image that comes to mind when we think of kings, we don’t exactly have a picture here that fits any of our prescribed notions of such, do we?  This scene is a mockery.  It’s a joke; a complete flipping of every idea that the world has ever had about kingship, sovereignty, and power.

Crucifixion, by Hans von Tubingen

But that’s the point with Jesus. Throughout Luke’s Gospel, which we’ve been reading all year and finish up today, Jesus has been telling us, in his own words spoken through parables what his kingdom –  or what he called the Kingdom of Heaven or the Kingdom of God – looks like: a wasteful, prodigal child returning to a father’s loving arms; a shepherd foolishly going off to find one lost sheep; an ugly mustard shrub providing shelter for the birds; a rich man’s feast open to the poor and marginalized. A day called Christ the King  may seem to invite a Gospel reading like Matthew, chapter 24, with images of Jesus coming with the angels, riding on the clouds and shining like the sun at the trumpet call. That's kingly, right?! Instead we get Jesus being crucified because the kingship of Jesus is summed up right here at the cross. 

Many who followed Jesus wanted him to overthrow Rome and set his kingdom up to look every bit as cruel, with their enemies treated as bad or worse than Rome treated them. These were the zealots, and there are still around. They’ll tell you that there are folks who get left out of Jesus’ kingdom. But throughout Luke’s Gospel this year we’ve seen Jesus buck that trend, and he does it one last time here on the cross when he forgives his murders and grants Paradise to the seditionist. And isn't that something? The seditionist asks to be remembered in Jesus' kingdom, and everyone else was clammoring for a kingdom of power, might, riches, and glory. But Jesus tells him that he'll be with him in Paradise, an old Persian word for a walled garden. The world wants a kingdom, Jesus offers Paradise.  Wow!

If someone tells you that you – or anyone, for that matter – gets left out of Jesus’ kingdom, don’t’ believe them. Remember Jesus’ own words in John 12: 32, that when he is lifted up upon the cross he draws ALL the world to himself – and ALL means ALL…y’all!.  This is where our king, the King of glory, reigns, hung upon a tree. And by doing so, by flipping the narrative of power and kingship, Jesus makes it possible for literally EVERYONE to be part of his kingdom. That is some good news right there! All we have to do is tell everyone that it is so and live our lives as if we actually believe it.

This is the scandal of the Gospel. And if we are members of Jesus’ kingdom, we’re not members of any other; and if Jesus is king, then nobody else is. It’s him and his kingdom. There’s nothing like it, and there’s nothing better! And Jesus didn't say that his kingdom was far off or that we had to wait for any End Times for it to get here. What did he say? The kingdom of God has come near to you! It is here! And it is within all of you!

Empires fall, all terms of office and reigns of those in power end, but Jesus shall reign wherever the sun doth its successive journeys run, his kingdom stretches from shore to shore till moons shall wax and wane no more. 

God Helps Those Who Help Themselves (And Other Lies)

"Now we command you, beloved, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received from us. For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone's bread without paying for it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you. This was not because we do not have that right, but in order to give you an example to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this command: Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right."

--II Thessalonians 3: 6-13

Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

--The Collect for Proper 28, Year C (The 23rd Sunday after Pentecost)

Reading, marking, learning, and inwardly digesting an (apparently) Arabic or Hebrew New Testament.

All Holy Scripture may have been written for our learning, but Holy Scripture can be really complicated. If taken out of context passages of Scripture can be used to support or debunk just about any talking point. One such example is II Thessalonians, chapter 3, verse 10, which was the Epistle reading for this past Sunday.  “For even when we were with you, we gave you this command, anyone unwilling to work should not eat.”  If we’re not careful, we could easily interpret this text as support for the argument that people who are not willing to help themselves don’t deserve to be helped at all. But if we understand the kind of Christian community out of which this text comes, we find that there is good news here, and that the message isn’t what we might think it is. 

First, we need to understand the Second Letter to the Thessalonians as a whole.  Though we may assume that it is a sequel to the First Letter to the Thessalonians, which is a letter that is indisputably written by Paul, there is strong evidence to suggest that Paul likely was not the author of the second letter.  We know this from the letter’s tone—which is much harsher and more direct than the first —as well as the use of certain verb tenses and other factors relating to the original Greek text that show us that this letter doesn’t share the same traits as other, authentically Pauline letters.  The fact that the text’s authorship is disputed doesn’t mean we should throw it out, but who wrote the text always matters when we’re trying to learn from it.

As we read II Thessalonians, we can see that the author is writing to a community of people who are sure that Jesus is coming back any second now, and that immediacy is causing all kinds of problems. Certain members of the community are forsaking their duties, both in worship and in work, because, why put in a long-term commitment if Jesus is on his way?  To add to this stress, other members are so discouraged by the persecutions that they are facing that they have little to no motivation to participate in the life of the community.  These folks are effectively living off the work and ministry of others.  An example of this for us today might be folks who are perhaps fully capable of coming to church or participating in the life of the parish, but they willingly never come and yet still wish to reap the benefits.  This idleness among the Thessalonians takes the form of eating the food for which others have worked and prepared, but it goes to a deeper motivation that is detrimental to the community; for to early Christians, work and prosperity were not signs of individual grace but evidence of one’s role in supporting the whole community. Thus, to refuse to show up was to rebel and take unfair advantage of others, and THIS is the problem in Thessalonica, not mere idleness or laziness but a kind of inactivity that harms the rest of the community.

This hits on a matter that we must always bear in mind when reading Scripture, especially those deetailing the ways and means of what we call the early Church: these texts are directed to specific communities. This letter raises the concern of what it calls idleness, but not in a general sense, rather as it relates to living in Christian community. Verse 6 introduces the idleness problem with: “keep away from believers who are living in idleness” (emphasis mine). The author’s denouncements are not directed toward, say, the homeless person sleeping outside the church door or the woman and her kid who come by the office asking for food.  Also, we must note that the word "idleness" is not a perfect translation of the Greek word ataktos, which denotes behavior that is insubordinate or irresponsible. The Thessalonians don’t have an issue with needy people banging on the church door but a lack of responsibility on the part of the Christians already inside. 

Still, Christians today do misuse this text as a cop-out for not helping others. Just a few years ago I remember seeing a social media post from Senator Kevin Cramer  (R - North Dakota), who touted how his Christian faith influenced how he governed. A constituent then asked his thoughts on Matthew, chapter 25 – you know, when Jesus says “whenever you feed the hungry, clothe the naked, or visit those in prison you are doing it for me.” To which Senator Cramer quoted, you guessed it, II Thessalonians 3: 10, pointing out that the Bible explicitly says that those who cannot work for themselves and for their own bread shouldn’t receive any from others. It sounds a lot like another quote I’ve heard a time or two: “God helps those who help themselves,” which, of course, is a sentence you won’t find in any translation of the Bible, not even the Message! 

Unfortunately, there is a tendency on the part of many Christians to forget that context matters for every sentence of every book of the Bible. Using this passage as an excuse not to give to those in need or to moralize against folks who are poor, hungry, or homeless, not only is a gross misuse of the text but also completely—and conveniently—ignores every other mandate in both the Hebrew Scriptures and the Gospels to address the needs of those who seeks help—which can be found, among other places, in Deuteronomy 15: 11 – “Since there will never cease to be need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.” – and, from last week’s Gospel, Luke 6: 30 –‘Give to everyone who begs from you.’.  This text must never be used to label poor people as lazy, and it is our duty to understand its context, so that if and when we find ourselves in conversations with those who would have us believe that Scripture teaches us not to offer any assistance to those unable to work or in some other great need, then we will be ready to correct their course—in all Christian love.

What is the point of the text in our own time if it is not a far-reaching indictment of “lazy” people?  The ultimate goal of this text is to bring people back into the community.  Too many of the Thessalonians were relying on Jesus’ immediate return—and if we lived with that level of fear and anxiety we might also just say, ‘Forget it!’ to all kinds of responsibilities.  But what the Thessalonians had forgotten, and perhaps even what we forget sometimes, is that members of a Christian community are responsible to one another. As I said to my congregation on Sunday, when you’re not here, the community is worse off, and when you’re not at the Table, the community is cheated of the gift of your presence.  That’s not in any way meant to malign those who tune in to church online because they physically cannot be there in-person. But for those of us who can, the question we might ask ourselves when we kept up on Sunday morning and decide if we will show up shouldn't be “Do I need to go to church today?” but rather “Who needs me to be in church today?”  

With everything in us, we must resist the urge to see this text from II Thessalonians and others like it as an invitation to judge others.  If we’re not careful, we could take it as an invitation to be the very worst kind of judgmental, passive-aggressive, shaming Christian.  Instead, let us hear this text in the manner it was originally intended, as instruction for us to be accountable to one another in the context of our own Christian communities, and to embrace the unique experiences, perspectives, and talents that we each bring, eager to share them, which, of course, is what stewardship is all about.  And so, as we "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the Scriptures," even in a complicated text like this one, we find there is, as always, good news.  

No One Is Alone

In the second act of Stephen Sondheim’s musical Into the Woods, the four remaining lead characters – the Baker, Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, and Jack – come together to sing the show’s penultimate number called No One Is Alone. After the long, arduous journey they’ve been on, each one having experienced tremendous heartache, they try to understand the consequences of the things for which they have wished throughout the show, and they begin to decide to place community wishes over their own. The song itself serves a dual purpose: first, to show that each of the characters’ actions – and by extension our own – are not made in a bubble and that no one is guaranteed to be the protagonist of their own story. And second, and I would say most importantly, the song demonstrates that even when life throws its greatest challenges at us, we do not have to face them alone, that there are still people who love us, believe in us, and are cheering for us.

The original Broadway cast of Into the Woods sings 'No One Is Alone.'

I would add, even when we cannot see them. For that is what the Feast of All Saints is about, the companions we have had along our journey through the woods of our own lives, those who showed us the way, who may have gone on to glory, but whose lessons, whose love, whose spirits live on and inspire us to keep going and remember, to borrow the last line of that song: things will come out right now/we can make it so/someone is on your side/no one is alone.

All Saints Day may have actually been this past Tuesday, November 1, but this feast day is one of the few in the Church that can be moved and take precedent over the principle celebration of a Sunday morning, which is how we celebrated it in the context of my parish. Think of it this way: each Sunday is kind of a mini-Easter, and even when a feast day falls on a Sunday – for example the feast day of one of the apostles or Mother Mary – those celebrations take a back seat to Sunday itself and get moved to the next available day. But All Saints gets special treatment, perhaps because of its significance in celebrating the lives of all those who have gone before us. There really is something special about this day.

In my own life this day is special because I am reminded of the parish in which I grew up, All Saints in Norton, VA, where I was blessed this week to share the preaching duties with my Dad when we celebrated All Saints Day and remembered the life of The Rev. Fran McCoy, my priest for 19 years and one of the most important people in my life – a true saint if there ever was one. 

Clergy gathered at All Saints Church in Norton, VA for the festive Eucharist for All Saints Day.

For Good Shepherd, the parish where I serve now, All Saints Day holds a lot of meaning. In 2015, 2016, and 2018 we had baptisms on that day. In 2019 it was the day we returned to the sanctuary after a 6-week exile to the outdoor chapel and Pugh Funeral Home due to mold remediation. And in 2020 after much planning and prep, it was to be the day we came back to public worship after COVID-19 brought everything to a standstill in March, but a new wave that fall kept us apart for several more months. And now, in 2022 we marked the day with another celebration, the golden anniversary of the first public worship in our sanctuary.

The sanctuary of Good Shepherd in Asheboro, NC, set up for a Christmas Eve Midnight Mass in 2021.

We took time during our worship this Sunday to recognize the folks who were there in 1972 and gave thanks for the saints who had helped make the space possible. I couldn't help but believe deep in my heart that those beloved brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers of our faith were with us that day, and are truthfully, with us at all times and in all places. The commitment of those folks at Good Shepherd to the Gospel, to breaking bread and praying together made our sanctuary possible when they began to outgrow their original sanctuary, which became our chapel. A lot has changed about the space since 1972 – the altar, choir, and baptistry have all been moved, and it is now a lot easier to take Communion sine the rail was moved down closer to the congregation, instead of being up not one, but two sets of steps. But our eyes are still drawn to the Christus Rex when we enter, as Christ the King draws our hearts and spirits into his very presence and brings us closer to each other, closer to him, and closer to our dear companions – the saints.

And that is what the saints truly are to us, our companions. The word is taken from the Latin com, meaning “together or with,” and pan, meaning “bread.” Our companions are literally the ones with whom we share bread. And just as your closest companions are the ones you invite to share bread at your dinner table, here at this holy Table, Christ brings us together – he who himself is the bread of life, the bread of heaven, the bread that feeds and sustains us . And it is this Bread that we share with each other, yes, but when we come to this rail we do not do it alone. None of us is alone. The heavenly banquet that we know our loved ones are sharing right now is nothing less than the Eucharist itself. This banquet is happening at all times in the Kingdom of Heaven, and when we share it together on this side of the Kingdom, we step out of our own time and place and receive that foretaste of glory divine, and right next to those we love but see no longer. They may not have universities or churches named for them, but they matter to us. We know who they are - and so does God - those companions, those saints. And at the Table of the Lord we share with them in what Saint Ignatius of Antioch called “the medicine of immortality.”

There are many things that make Christianity so special, but one is the emphasis that it places on community. Salvation is not something we achieve on our own – contrary to popular opinion, we do not go out and “get saved” by ourselves. We pray, we break bread, we study, we grow, we fail, we fall, and we keep moving closer and closer to salvation together. The lives of the saints remind us of that fact. They remind us that no one is alone.  Because they were never alone, even when the world rejected them. Jesus never did. Even the world rejects us, Jesus never does, and the saints, whose prayers from heaven sustain and strengthen and inspire us, never do either. No one is alone.

Ceiling depiction of All Saints Day (image courtesy of Seton's Parish in Pickerington, OH)

The last few years have been really lonely, but one of the things for which I am most proud of my parish - and many church communities, for that matter - is how they made sure that everyone remembered that though there may have been lonely moments, no one was alone. Their calls, especially to our most vulnerable folks who have been shut in, cards to those of us who were ill and could not interact with others, and all the other ways that they reinforced the importance of this Christian community, helped so many get through some tough days until they could at last return to the sacred space for which we gave thanks on Sunday. And even for those who have not returned, just knowing that the church is here, that the work begun before our chapel was ever even built, continued when the sanctuary was dedicated 50 years ago, and ongoing now, is enough. All Saints is the day that unites us to our forebears who laid the physical cornerstone of our church building, so that it may be a place of worship for the One who is the very cornerstone of all things, Jesus our Lord. We share in the Communion of Jesus’ own Body and Blood with one another and with the saints, so that we may recall our own place in the Communion of saints, and go from the Holy Table united as one Body in a common mission to seek and serve and love all persons as Jesus has sought, served, and loved us. For as Saint Augustine of Hippo once put it, “We eat the Body of Christ, so that we may be the Body of Christ.”

Thanks be to God for the blessed Feast of All Saints! For in it we have the assurance that we are not alone. No one is alone. The saints who have gone on to glory are praying for us and are with us. And the saints on this side of the Kingdom, still striving, continue to pray and work together for the glory of God and the Good News that the Kingdom of God is in our midst. For all the saints, who from their labors rest, who thee by faith before the world confessed thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blest. Alleluia!  Glorious feast!