Christ the (Crucified) King

Luke 23:33-43

As the Church winds down an entire year spent in St. Luke’s Gospel, we are reminded that in Christ’s Kingdom things are not always what they seem. In Christ’s Kingdom what is revealed are the ways in which followers of King Jesus serve and love one another. It’s not a kingdom that finds its meaning in wealth, power, privilege or pleasure. It’s a kingdom that finds reality in Resurrection. It’s Good Friday juxtaposed with Easter Sunday. It’s sorrow coupling with joy. Sacrifice deepening sound relationship with love.

Like the first crucified criminal in today’s Gospel, the kingdom of God where Jesus reigns can be rejected, or it can be revealed and intuited like the second thief’s intercessory prayer, “Remember me.” Jesus, in his very body and being, is able to resolve both rejection and remembering in rhythmic syncopation. For it was he as King who descended into the heart of both convicted criminals who holding tightly to their own crosses of death made very different pronouncements. The first pridefully decided not to part with his cross; thus, binding himself to fear and eternal estrangement. The second intuited not just a kingdom but a person, and ultimately the person-al God in whom there was (and is) no separation. It’s been said that, “The meaninglessness of suffering is subverted by the meaning of the Passion.”[1] Like the redeemed thief intuited meaning in Jesus, we too can call on Christ to remember us through our own sufferings, misgivings, and misfortunes. Jesus will go all the way down with us as well as lift us all the way up resolving double-binds, and ab-solving our missed chances inviting us into the beautiful Forever.

Christ the King Sunday is a liturgical icon revealing not only the end of the Christian year, but also the conclusion of the way things have always been. Life, St. Luke helps us discover, is not about winning but common participation. Participating tangibly in divine and dignified relationship. Life is not about joining an angry mob scoffing and mocking, and finally, rejecting Love. No. Jesus as crucified King of Kings and resurrected Lord of Lords will finally “scatter the proud in their conceit, cast down the mighty from their thrones, and lift up the lowly.” The kingdom of God “fills the hungry with good things, sending the rich away empty.” On his cross King Jesus has remembered his promise of mercy having a long memory that stretched all the way back to Father Abraham. All of these promises are set and re-set in metrical motion on Calvary. All of these promises come to their final fulfillment in the emblem of the empty tomb.

Next week the Church acts like a sentinel anxiously anticipating the Lord’s return. Christians have been waiting for over 2,000 years, not because we’re in a hurry and Jesus seems slow to come, but because God is forever patient having impeccable timing. Our ongoing job; therefore, is to watch. “Watch, for you do not know when the King of the castle will come. In the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning, lest he come suddenly and find us all asleep.”

Christ the King has freed and brought us together under his most gracious rule. It’s a rule of love that leads to a watchful rule of life. It’s spiritual and religious. It’s water and wine. It’s spirit and flesh. Finally, like the second criminal who in his final moments was able to ponder Paradise, this Advent may we repent and remember, forgo and forgive, watch and wait praying, “Come, Lord Jesus. For you are Christ the King.”

[1]           Urban T. Holmes, III, (What is Anglicanism? “Pastoral Care”), Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, PA, 1982, p. 60.

The Passion of Christ – a Palm Sunday Reflection

Luke 23:1-49

Today we remember the Passion of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We remember how he was betrayed, abandoned, and denied – by those closest to him. We remember the violence, anger, and resentment mobs can carry when self-righteousness becomes the driving energy force. We remember how weapons used for war and courts for trials reveal to us how fallible human institutions can be when compared with the providence and salvific plan of God. Today, we remember anxious politicians scared of their constituents’ shadows. We remember soldiers justifying their acts of cruelty as alleged protectors of the state. We remember hecklers, hypocrites, and apathetic on-lookers. All of these characters are guilty, and all of these characters are us.

There is also another type of remembering, and it comes from an unlikely source. It comes from a criminal. From his cross, the unnamed man admits for all of us our own guilt. We stand convicted of pride and presumption, anger and resentment, malice and greed, lack of discipline, cruelty and indifference. From his cross, he admits to all of it saying, I have been condemned and condemned justly. I deserve what is coming. This is his confession, and he doesn’t stop there. Like the prophets of old he steps over the line and dares to inquire of God. Dares to ask him yet another question of clarification, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The man is not presumptuous here. The kingdom of God does not belong to men like him; and yet, from this man’s cross and from this man’s suffering he finds faith, seeks after hope, and desperately begs for charity. And what Jesus does from his own cross goes beyond merely remembering. Jesus himself steps over that same line daring to promise this man eternal life in him. Paradise with him.

Like the women in today’s story who observed all these things from afar we too are to objectively self-examine the state of our souls, questioning our intentions, presumptions, and biases. As this work is being done within the hills and valleys of our hearts, we are to act like Simon of Cyrene, who coming from the country of his heart took up the cross of Christ holding onto it for a little while knowing full well he must one day take up his own. Finally, we must be like the criminal, who does take up his own cross, realizing that the life he has led should be crucified, and the life he must now lead welcomes him as a friend of God’s.

Today is the beginning of Holy Week. If you believe Christ when he said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” then come and be forgiven, come and be washed on Maundy Thursday. If you believe in the cross of Christ, and how it was not only used as an instrument of torture, but also one of redemption then come and claim this truth on Good Friday. If you uphold the faith of the Church that being washed by Christ in the waters of Baptism gives one access to his Body and Blood, come to the Great Vigil on Saturday and renew your faith in Him. Finally, if you know a person that needs to hear the redeeming message of Jesus Christ as a message of love, then invite them to church this Holy Week as a preparation for the celebration of Resurrection one week from today. As Christians our very life as the Body of Christ depends upon this witness, our witness – together.

 

He Ascended into Heaven

The Ascension of Christ is one of the deepest mysteries of the Christian faith, and it is in Christ’s Ascension that we simultaneously remember his Passion, death, decent into Hell, as well as his resurrection. Let’s move through each of these mysteries one-by-one with the hope of finding and remembering the greatest mystery of all – that God so loved the world that he gave and continues to give.

The Ascension first calls to mind Jesus’ Passion and eventual death on the cross. It is in the Passion where Jesus offered his whole self – body and spirit – as an oblation. Through the loss of dignity, Jesus took on humility as flesh and blood were stripped away, beaten, disregarded, and left for dead. It was on the cross where even Jesus’ divinity was emptied out. It was in this state of rejection that ordinary words could not capture; therefore, Jesus choose poetry with his last breath, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Psalm 22).

The Ascension then calls to mind Jesus’ decent into Hell. If the cross was the place where body and spirit were given for the present, it was in Hell where this offering was extended back into the past. God’s decent into Hell reminds the faithful that there is no place in which God will not go. God cares about our past, our present, and our future. It is the future and at the same time the past where Christ’s resurrection and ascension are made present. The reality of the resurrection is that we are invited to live into it. We are to participate in the risen life of Jesus Christ. Fr. Thomas Keating has stated that the reality of the ascension “is the triumphant faith that believes that God’s will is being done no matter what happens. It believes that creation is already glorified, though in a hidden manner, as it awaits the full revelation of the children of God.”[1]Keating continues this line of theological thinking in his book, The Mystery of Christ,

The grace of the Ascension enables us to perceive the irresistible power of the Spirit transforming everything into Christ despite any and all appearances to the contrary. In the misery of the ghetto, the battlefield, the concentration camp; in the family torn by dissension; in the loneliness of the orphanage, old-age home, or hospital ward – whatever we see that seems to be disintegrating into grosser forms of evil – the light of the Ascension is burning with irresistible power. This is one of the greatest intuitions of faith. This faith finds Christ not only in the beauty of nature, art, human friendship and the service of others, but also in the malice and injustice of people or institutions, and in the inexplicable suffering of the innocent. Even there it finds the same infinite love expressing the hunger of God for humanity, a hunger that [God] intends to satisfy.”[2]

Keating concludes with these words,

Thus, in Colossians, Paul does not hesitate to cry out with his triumphant faith in the Ascension: “Christ is all and in all”[3]– meaning now, not just in the future. At this very moment we too have the grace to see Christ’s light shining in our hearts, to feel his absorbing Presence within us, and to perceive in every created thing – even in the most disconcerting – the presence of his light, love, and glory.”[4]

Perhaps I can offer my own phase and summation to Keating’s beautiful words: Perhaps what Keating is trying to get across is that God has not given up on us. God has not given up on me. God has not given up on you. There is nothing in this world that can separate us from the love of God, and it is in the Ascension of Jesus Christ where past and future are made present in an eternal act of love.

After Christ’s Ascension, St. Luke tells us that Jesus’ disciples, “returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God” (Luke 24:53). When we worship joyfully we are participating with all God’s glorified creation even “as it awaits the full revelation of the children of God.” [5]This week follow in the disciples’ footsteps and intuit the joy of the Ascension in your worship, in your work, and in your lives. Seek out the cardinal virtues of faith, hope, and love in all aspects of being; and finally, remember love found its way into the world through oblation. Live into all these things and there will be joy in your life; joy in the Ascension; joy in all the earth.

[1]               Thomas Keating, The Mystery of Christ: The Liturgy as Spiritual Experience (The Continuum Publishing Company, New York, 2003) Copyright: St. Benedict’s Monastery, 1987. Pages, 86 – 88.

[2]               Ibid.

[3]               Colossians 3:11

[4]               Ibid., Keating.

[5]               Ibid.

The Passion of the Christ

The Passion narrative is unlike any other reading about Jesus we have throughout the year. For one, we do not imagine Jesus sermonizing on a mount, or teaching in synagogues and Jewish homes. We do not imagine him debating with other rabbi’s, healing the sick, or instructing his disciples. Instead, we bear witness to Our Lord’s suffering, pain, and death – our hearts closing in like the sealing of the stone over his tomb. Perhaps, the Passion narrative is unlike any other remembrance of Jesus because the Passion of Christ demonstrates to all that the teacher has become the teaching. For example, Jesus taught forgiveness. He said, “Pray for those who persecute you.” His Passion revealed this teaching when he prayed, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Jesus taught, “There is no greater gift than to lay down one’s life for their friends.” His Passion revealed this teaching from his cross at Noon that first Good Friday. For Christians, Jesus’ teachings are not ideologies; instead, they are truths pointing to the ultimate Truth that Jesus is Lord. The Passion narrative painfully draws the conclusion that the world would rather destroy Truth rather than be in relationship with It.

Perhaps, the Passion narrative is unlike any other reading about Jesus because we are reminded of our own capacity for great evil. Nihilism, narcissism, and pride make their home in the basement of our souls. Anger, greed, and sloth seep through the cracks of these basements seeking to destroy us one drip at a time. In order to overcome these, we must first acknowledge them as Jesus did, and with His help we can cut off the life of these sins by sacrificing one’s pride for humility, choosing forgiveness over revenge, and kindness instead of envy. Our death to these parts of ourselves ultimately comes when we realize we cannot live into the virtues of Christ without God’s help. “Save yourself,” may be the mantra of the world, but I am with you always is the promise of God.

The Passion narrative is unlike any other reading about Jesus we have throughout the year. Perhaps this year, it calls to you with new insight and depth. Like the teacher becoming the teaching, it may be inviting you (the reader) to become the read-ing. What characters within yourself, and in and around your world do you need to acknowledge as Pontius Pilate, the angry mob, or the Roman soldier? Where is grace to be found in the messiness of life? Where is relationship when isolation wants to spend the night?

Finally, this week is unlike any other week we have throughout the year. As you enter into the truths of Holy Week be open to what God may be revealing to you. Be accepting that Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice for all. Live into your questions with God at your side. Lastly, do not fully concentrate on the Easter destination, but be present where the journey of this holy week will take you. Take the time to pause this week. Make the time to consider why this week – above all others – is unlike any other throughout the year. Do this in remembrance – of Christ.