HEART OF HEAVEN, HEART OF EARTH

Philippians 2:1-11
John 18:33-37

St. Andrew's-Wesley United Church

Rev. Gary Paterson

November 22, 2009

Well, today is Christ the King Sunday; or in language slightly less patriarchal, The Reign of Christ Sunday. I can your faces gazing with rapt interest, or is that glazing over with boredom; I know, I know… only a handful of church geeks get excited about this feast day. But every year, the Sunday before Advent, which is the last worship service before the beginning of the church’s New Year, we are invited to contemplate and preach about Christ the King. Mind you, this is also Children’s Sunday and Prisoners’ Sunday – now that would make for a much more straightforward preach, for sure. And for us, here at St. Andrew’s-Wesley, it’s also Guatemala Sunday, as we hear stories from members of our congregation who travelled to Guatemala last summer, participants in the GATE programme – Global Awareness Through Exposure. But there was something about this “King” stuff that I felt drawn to explore.

Maybe it’s just the afterglow of the visit of Prince Charles and his wife, Camilla, Duchess of something or other; the flurry of media debate on whether the time has come to get rid of the monarchy? Well, I can’t get that worked about it – if it ain’t broke, don’t fix, it is probably my attitude Such an earnest visit, no? Unglamourous, non-offensive; something about Charles spending time at organic farms. Jesus Christ, Lord of Lords, King of Kings… and King Chuck. I’m not sure where we can go with this comparison.

Mind you, some twelve years ago, during Charles’ previous visit, when he came with the Princes, William and Harry… well, you would have found me singing a different tune, perhaps. You see, Tim got a political invitation to meet Charles, and he was allowed to bring a guest; and I thought, well there are perq’s to having a spouse in politics. However, the day of the soiree just happened to be our daughter Zoe’s birthday; her sweet sixteen birthday. And in a surge of parental love, I stepped aside, and Tim escorted this gorgeous 16-year old into the evening. She was the youngest person there, by far, and thus ended up having a delightful conversation with Prince Charles, who deliberately sought her out as a fresh alternative to more staid conversations with the city elders. When they finally returned home, and the family birthday cake was lit, Zoe whirled around the room, singing, “I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more….” Ah yes, royalty; it stirs the blood. Christ the King.

I’ve just finished reading Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel, the winner of this year’s Booker Prize… a great story of Henry VIII, Thomas Cromwell, Ann Boleyn and Thomas More. Now, there was a king for you… lusty, loud, and if he ran into problems… well, off with their head. I can’t wait to get to Rogers Video and rent Season I of “The Tudors”… a lot of sex and violence. King Henry, King Jesus…. Hmmmmm.

It’s not that much of a jump from Henry to Caesar Augustus… just that everything’s on a much grander scale. Sole ruler of an empire that stretched over three continents; more soldiers than you could count, shock and awe legions ready to fight any battle… and win; wealth beyond imagining, as taxes from around the globe poured into imperial coffers. The power of life and death was in Caesar’s hands… thumbs up, and you lived; thumbs down, you died. Augustus and Jesus, Caesar and Christ…. Now there’s an interesting comparison.

Just imagine… ladies and gentlemen, the fight will begin in five minutes. In this corner, we have Caesar Augustus… see how he flexes those muscles, paces the ring; a real animal; and over here King Jesus… looking a little the worse for wear; home-made outfit, you can tell; standing still, smiling softly. You decide… who’s going to win the fight; place your bets now, play the odds. Come on now, put your money where your mouth is. Play big, or stay at home! Who are you cheering for? Choose your winner, that’s right, choose a winner.

Let me pause just for a moment… a bit of background before the fight begins. I’d like to be able to tell you of the ancient origins of this feast day, to describe past rituals from the first or second century, that would help us gain a deeper appreciation of Christ the King Sunday. But not possible… because this celebration doesn’t even have a 100 year history in the church calendar. No, it was Pope Pius the 9th who kick-started the day, in the year 1925. John the 23rd ratified it at the Vatican Council in the sixties, and then Paul the 6th gave it formal recognition and established the date as being the final Sunday of the church year. He even gave it a more elaborate title: “Our Lord Jesus Christ King of the Universe” Sunday; now that’s a mouthful to try and slide unobtrusively into a prayer.

What I find interesting is the motivation that first inspired the Pope to create this feast day. 1925… Europe had just gone through the bloodbath of World War I; millions slaughtered for no purpose. How do you make any sense of what had happened? Well, one way people had responded to the horror was by swinging into a decade of excess… eat, drink, dance like there’s no tomorrow. And on the edges, or hidden at the very centre, storms of nationalism were stirring, in alliance with fascism and totalitarianism. Demands were being made upon people’s loyalty; values were in flux; souls were up for grabs. Which corner do you find yourself in; where are you going to place your bets; who or what will command your loyalty? Maybe the church was recalling Jesus’ words: “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and unto God that which is God’s.” In a cauldron of conflicting demands and values, loyalty to Christ is paramount… meaning, commitment to the way of life that Jesus embodied and his vision of God’s justice, forgiveness and love; all undergirded by a faith that Christ’s Spirit is with us still. In those troubled times you had to decide, “Who is your king? Who commands your deepest loyalty? Whose direction do you honour? Who do you follow?”

It was a particular time, back in the twenties. But frankly, the need to decide between competing loyalties is a constant human reality. Not always earthshaking, perhaps, but always significant. There are endless crises when you are challenged to re-assess your purpose, your loyalty, your life’s direction. Hey, next Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent, it’s the beginning of the Church’s New Year, and Advent comes with an invitation into pondering, and thoughtfulness. Maybe this invitation to review loyalty catches my attention because in five days I will be turning sixty – now that’s a sobering thought. And you… I have had recent conversations with many of you… you know these times of transition, some painful, some joyful… the death of parents, spouse, friends; retirement, and unemployment; a child is born; a relationship begins, a marriage is ending; a move to a new job, a new city, a new country; an unexpected illness; a baptism.

In his gospel John presents the choice so well. Who are cheering for… Caesar or Christ? On which one are you placing your bets? Follow the money! In whose corner are you standing, Pontius Pilate or Jesus? Cause there they are… Pilate, Governor of Judea, Caesar’s royal representative in Jerusalem, with soldiers, money and power wrapped securely around him; and then there’s Jesus, rabbi from Nazareth, wrapped in God’s love and not much else. “Are you a king?” asks Pilate. Jesus never quite answers directly, though eventually he suggests that he is a king, but not “of this world”. Not a king who uses violence, the sword; not a king whose followers will race to rescue him. A contradiction of the ways of Caesar, with his ultimate valuing of achievement, affluence and appearance. No, this is a realm of peace, equality, welcome and compassion. A place of non-violence. The King of Love… and to say that changes everything. Love your neighbour, and your neighbour is anybody in need. Love your children and the prisoners; love anybody on the margins, the edges; love your enemies too. A king, yes… but to follow this one won’t be easy; calls for sacrifice; will include suffering. But what a life… a real life; and the King has said, “I no longer call you servants; I call your friends.

I could go on at great length, trying to describe this Kingdom where Christ is all in all; you know me. But maybe a few stories would be more helpful. Last summer several members of the congregation went to Guatemala for an exposure and educational trip, and today, remember, they will be showing slides and serving a Guatemalan lunch after worship. But I’ve invited a couple of them to share a brief story with us right now – stories that embody Jesus is King values and hopes:

(a story from Rose Bird) … Guatemala…transformation is everywhere. As our trip to Guatemala was in July I had to open my treasure chest of memories and pluck one to share with you today. On our solidarity trip we visited one of the Safe Passage projects for mothers of children in the Safe Passage School. Women marginalized, on the periphery of society, eking out an existence in the Guatemala City dump…just seeing this huge gulley filled with garbage, many souls scrounging to exist, vultures circling overhead… fills you with despair. However, on a side street radiating away from the dump we enter a non-descript building… a series of tiny rooms… rooms filled with women, a nurturing environment, supportive, safe. In one room women huddle around a table taking part in a literacy program…the goal a very basic high school education: in another room women socializing… just hanging out in a safe space. In another room women making jewellery, creating beads from pages of magazines…creating jewels from nothing. We were able to buy these precious pieces. See them in the salons after the service. In the next room, display cases of the jewellery for sale. The women excited, whispering are learning the fundamentals of running a business, make the jewels, package and price them. record the sales, handle the cash… the end result earning a modest income and most valuable the building of self esteem. These Guatemalan women and their children have a haven, a safe place that kindles hope, nurtures dreams, allowing them to build a future with promise. If you have an opportunity to go to Guatemala with GATE (Global Awareness Through Experience) or with Doris and Eric…TAKE it! It’s the experience of a lifetime.

The Reign of Christ, the Kingdom of God, Christ the King….. all ways of talking about this new reality, where everyone is included, and honoured; women are not pushed to the edges, denied rights; where people who are forced to scrabble in garbage dumps are full citizens of the new kingdom, and are honoured as daughters and sons of God.

Some years ago I was on a trip to Guatemala, same kind of travelling… with Global Awareness Through Exposure, with Doris. I heard a story that I remember as “dancing campesinos”. As the civil war was slowly subsiding, many refugees began to carefully and cautiously make their way home. They were the poor farmers and their families; the indigenous people who had been driven from their lands. And now they were returning home to reclaim their lives. Well this one group was well en route, just a few days away from home, when they hit a roadblock, with young soldiers, waving their guns, and telling them they could go no further; the campesinos had to return. There was a moment of despair; then desperate anger; a readiness to fight; and then…. then they began to dance, right there on the road, right in front of the roadblock. They danced all afternoon, and when the sun went down they made camp. When the sun came up, they began dancing again ,until the sun went down; and the next day, the same; and the next…. Until finally the soldiers yelled out, “For heaven’s sake, just get out of here….” And they lowered their guns, and opened the gates, and the people continued on to their fields and their homes.

Dancing campesinos… who will not surrender, who do not lose hope; who will not use violence, but will not back away. Dancing for their homes; dancing for justice; dancing for God.

A final story…. (Doris Kizinna) If I could I would take you to Zacaulpa, a small town in the Quiche Highlands of Guatemala. We’d park outside an old colonial church on the town plaza. I’d take you by the hand and lead you into a small room beside the church, dark, walls stained, covered in black and white photographs, small crosses with names and dates leaning along the walls, a statue of Jesus in the corner, missing one arm, small chairs along the walls. We’d sit in those chairs and let the energy of this small room wash over us, you’d feel a pressure in that room, the memory of what once happened there is still there today. You’d look up at the faces on the walls and wonder why? If I could I would take you by the hand and lead you away from that room, past a mural of hope to a garden. You’d see banana’s and corn growing, small flower beds, rocks lining paths, an outdoor kitchen with an outdoor wood oven baking bread. You’d see women weaving in the classroom next door and others sitting in a circle talking about what they have lived through, healing and learning. If I could I’d take you back to Good Friday in the year 2000. We’d walk up in the hills behind the village of Zaqualpa and stand outside of a cave where recently bodies had been exhumed from a mass grave of the civil war. Women, men and children’s bodies had been taken out of the cave and gently prepared for burial. We’d listen as all their names are read: Jose Sanchez has died as Jesus has died. Maria Antonio has died as Jesus has died. We would feel the weight of those names and how they died and the stories of truth ad recovery. If I could I would take you back to Easter Sunday following that Good Friday, where we’d sit in the church close to the room of remembrance and watch as all the coffins carrying the bodies of those in the cave are carried into the church. We’d listen again, as the names of all those who had died were read aloud: Jose Sanchez has risen as Jesus has risen. Maria Antonio has risen as Jesus has risen. We would feel the weight of this moment of resurrection as a place of torture is transformed into a place of healing and gardens and beauty. After the service we’d walk back into the garden, and eat bread, and talk with the women, and understand that sacrifice, struggle and self-giving love can come even in the midst of the darkness of the world. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Let me finish with a song… just the words… a question by Carolyn McDade:

With whom do we stand across the wide land,

my friends, with whom do we stand?

With those of need, or those of greed,

Sister, Brother, with whom do we stand?

With those whose word has never been heard,

the underside of each land?

Or the conquerors who say history happened their way,

my friends, with whom do we stand?

With those despised, the focus of lies,

who know what it’s like to be banned?

Or those who decide who’s on the right side,

my friends, with whom do we stand?

With those who demand all have rights to the land,

and all must have their own say,?

Or those who would hold hoards of power and gold,

my friends, with whom do we stand?

Oh, friend, help me see the oppressor in me,

I will drop what is yours from my hand.

O God, let us care, until all have their share,

and then all together we’ll stand.

With whom do we stand across the wide land,

my friends, with whom do we stand?

With those of need, or those of greed,

Sister, Brother, with whom do we stand?