Good morning.
And welcome to Christ the King Sunday – the last Sunday before Advent, if you can believe that. The last Sunday in Ordinary Time. In liturgical and spiritual terms, we present ourselves to God as graduates, if you will, of Liturgical Year C. We are at the end of a journey that began on December 3, 2006, with the first Sunday of Advent.
Year C is my favorite year in the lectionary cycle because it tells the story of Jesus primarily through Luke’s eyes. As you know, the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke have a lot of the same stories in common – but Luke has several that are unique, and they happen to be my favorites:
The story of how Jesus began his ministry by standing up in the synagogue and proclaiming Isaiah’s vision of the Jubilee: that God had “anointed him to bring good news to the poor,” for example.
And it’s only in Luke’s gospel that we have the story of the Prodigal Son, and the good Samaritan, and the story of the rich man who stored up a ton of grain in his silo, but did nothing to prepare for the afterlife.
So after having gone through all these stories, one would think that we had a pretty good sense of Jesus. If someone stopped us on the street and asked us to describe this person Jesus, I think most of us could paint a fairly accurate picture. But if this person asked us to speak about what Jesus really meant to us, what would we say?
Sometimes in our church service we almost casually throw around these terms about Jesus, like a millionaire handing-out hundred-dollar bills: he is the Christ; the Messiah; the Son of God; Prince of Peace. But what do those terms really mean to us?
Who is Jesus, to you?
I wonder if we could just take a moment to consider this question. And if we could, I’d like us to start by asking this on a feeling level -- what does it feel like to consider this question?
For me, even to this day, over 30 years since I accepted Christ as an adult; after over 20 years of devoting my working life to him, day in and day out... even to this day, that question still feels... huge. It is not a question like any other.
Who is Jesus to you? It has a looming quality; it hangs above us like a canopy holding back the waters; like a levy holding back the flood.
What does Jesus mean to you?
Everything hinges on how we answer.
No more powerful or dangerous question has ever been asked.
In her little book, Knowing Jesus in Your Life, Carol Anderson (who is the rector of All Saints Episcopal Church in Beverly Hills) presents a surprisingly conventional view of Jesus. Conventional, yes, but still she makes some good points. She speaks of there being at least three ways that people become followers of Jesus.
Some of us are like the apostle Paul; we are happily riding along on our horse one day, cheerfully persecuting Christians, and WHAM! out of the blue we get hit by a vision of Christ and everything changes. This is the Big Conversion Story that we hear so often from evangelical preachers; and it is so dramatic that it is actually rather scary. It speaks most to people who are really desperate; people who are really ready to make a complete change in their lives; people who are finally ready for the blinding flash of light. Many of us have been there at one time or another; maybe you are at one of those points in your life right now. If you are, it is important to know that Jesus is here for you in a big way; Jesus is waiting; he is ready to turn your life around; Jesus can be as dramatic and as powerful as you need him to be.
There are others among us who are more like the apostle John, the beloved disciple. John just seemed to have a close relationship with Jesus from the beginning; they just clicked on a deep level; there was nothing especially dramatic, no bolts of lightning, just a constant, solid relationship of mutual love. These Christians aren’t looking for excitement; they are looking for nurture, for substance; for the long-term.
And then there’s Peter; who followed Jesus, but “had endless questions and struggles.” Anderson says, “He was like someone who goes to church on Sunday, listens to the sermon, is moved by the worship, finds it all makes sense, then it falls apart on Monday.” For Peter, it’s always “two steps forward and one step back.”
Anderson says she identifies with Peter, as do I; except for me, it’s more like two steps forward, three steps back, one step forward, sit there awhile, think about it, two steps to the left, run around in circles for awhile, do the hokey-pokey...
And the funny thing is that at different times in our lives, many of us have been all three of these disciples. Many of us have gone through a born again experience; and then we’ve matured into a stable comfortable faith, only to have everything crashing down on us; and then we’re picking up the pieces and figuring it all out again...
But one thing never changes. One thing about Jesus that remains constant throughout time; more important than all the scholarship about Jesus; more important than any book you might read. That is this: Jesus demands an answer.
In every one of the synoptic gospels, Jesus asks this question: “Who do you say that I am?” Jesus demands a response; he waits for an answer; this is the greatest and most important question; the first question of the rest of our lives.
Just last night, as I was working on this sermon, I found myself yet again asking myself this question. This is not one of those questions that, once you have answered it, you need never return to it. This is THE question, the question that we must answer again and again. It’s like a cup of coffee: every morning I have to answer this question – just to wake up. Because it’s not a question that is answered in the head; it is answered in the heart. It’s a question that asks, Who are you following? What are you basing your life on? What is the foundation of your life? What is its purpose? Whom are you attempting to serve? By what standard are you measuring your life? What gives your life value and meaning?
By the standards of our faith, there is only one answer to these questions: Jesus.
When your life is over; when there is nothing left to mark your time on earth but a crumbling piece of stone in a cemetery filled with thousands of such stones; what will it have meant then? What will have been the question that still demands an answer?
In each of the synoptic gospels, when Jesus asks who the disciples think he is, he follows up with these sayings:
If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, F68 will save it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?
These are the questions that go to the heart of life itself. Who are we living for? Are we living for ourselves, in which case our end is in the grave; or are we living for Christ, in which case our end is as boundless as God; as infinite as eternity; as unbounded as God’s love.
This is what we were created for; this is why we are here.
Why are you here?
I can tell you that I am not here because you called me here. I am here because Jesus called me here. And I’m not leaving until Jesus tells me I’m finished here.
Why are you here? I hear that some people come here for the stained glass windows; or for the music; or for the preaching; or for our outreach ministries. But all of that is subject to change. This building could burn down tomorrow; none of them will last an eternity. If we are living for these things, we are chasing after bread, that is fresh today, and stale tomorrow.
Or are you here because Jesus calls you here.
You know, sometimes, whenever the question comes up in our church about some change or other that we are thinking of making, it happens like clockwork that someone comes forward and says, “Well, if they change that, then I’m outta here.” It happened just recently with the pew cushion controversy. Well, if they force me to sit on a pew cushion... or Well, after all these years of complaining about the pews, if they won’t put in a pew cushion, then I’m going to a different church.
To which I have to say – and I blame myself for this misunderstanding, “I’m sorry – I didn’t know that you were a worshiper of pew cushions. If you are a follower of pew cushions, you are in the wrong church. We here are followers of Jesus.”
To some people this might seem like a horrifying thought but this church does not exist to serve our needs.
Not your needs, or my needs. This church exists for only one purpose -- the glory of God.
Sometimes I think our church is being held hostage by about a dozen different little terrorist groups; each of them issuing their own demands for things like pew cushions or hymn favorites or special programs; and they expect that my job is to run around trying to meet their demands while maintaining some delicate balance of power between all of them.
But I hate to be the one to have to say this, and again, I blame myself for this misunderstanding, but that’s not how it works.
In the next few months, this parish is going to be facing some serious and difficult choices. We have reached a point where, unless something very dramatic happens, we will need to make some changes in order to balance our budget. Now, I continue to hold out hope that maybe a miracle might occur, but the realist in me sees that some hard choices will have to be made. As we enter into this time of difficult decisions, I need to be clear that we will be making these decisions not to please any group or person; but to respond to the call of Jesus.
I ask for your prayers for our vestry and for me and our staff. And before you come to me or a member of vestry to lobby for your favorite whatever, stop yourself and ask, Is this something you want for yourself, or is it genuinely what you believe Jesus is calling us to? If it’s the latter, I genuinely want to hear from you and I encourage you to speak; if it’s the former, well, get in line with all the others.
In the meantime, I pray that we will all come together, united in the spirit of Christ, and in the words of Paul, gifted with the “strength that comes from God’s glorious power, prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to God.” (2 Colossians 1:11). It gives me great joy to serve you; and even more, to serve Jesus. I pray it is the same for you.
Somebody say... Amen.