Who is Jesus?

Who is Jesus? Who is this Galilean rabbi wandering the countryside teaching and healing? As John the Baptizer lay in Herod’s prison, he heard of what Jesus was doing. He sent his own disciples to ask, “Are you the One we’ve been expecting, or are we still waiting?” Do you remember how Jesus answered them? Jesus told them, “Go back and tell John what’s going on: the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the wretched of the earth learn that God is on their side.” Jesus then turned around and put the question to his own disciples. After asking them who other people thought he was, he looked his friends straight in the eye and said, “But who do you say that I am?” Perhaps speaking for them all, and perhaps speaking without even thinking, Peter exclaimed, “You’re the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Now, if Jesus were standing this morning where I’m standing and asked you that question, how would you answer? Do today’s lections give you any clues?

We’ve come to the very end of the church year. Next Sunday we will begin a new church year. Today we crown the church year by proclaiming that Christ is King. It’s an odd proclamation in a way. Our Scriptures are at best ambivalent about kings. Once the Israelites were settled in Canaan, they were governed by Judges. When the leaders of the people begged the prophet Samuel to anoint a king for them, he at first demurred and reminded them of all the ways that a king would tyrannize them. Nor does the proclamation of Christ as King have ancient roots. The lectionaries of previous prayer books list no such feast. Indeed, if we were still using the 1928 prayer book, today we would be observing the Sunday Next Before Advent and would be hearing the story from John’s Gospel about the feeding of the five thousand. As an observance Christ the King only dates from the Italy of 1925. Worried about the growing power of Fascism in Italy, and especially the government of Benito Mussolini, Pope Pius XI instituted the feast of Christ the King. For nations wracked by the Great War and likely facing another, the day proclaimed God’s reign over the entire world. The day also reminded Christians that their allegiance was to a divine ruler and not to earthly political leaders. In proclaiming Christ as King, we now join with Roman Catholics, as well as Lutherans, Presbyterians, and Methodists, in acknowledging the Lordship of Christ in our lives.

But if Christ is our king, of what kind of king are we the subjects? Do our texts shed any light on that question? In our reading from the prophet Jeremiah, we hear words spoken to a people in exile. Jeremiah proclaimed God’s word before and during the sacking of Jerusalem and exile of the religious and political leadership in 586 BC. Throughout his prophecy he has especially harsh words for the political leadership, castigating them for provoking the Babylonian rulers. In today’s lesson, Jeremiah compares the kings, who have brought about the disaster of exile, to bad shepherds who have not properly cared for God’s flock. After attending to the bad shepherds, God promises that the people will return to Jerusalem, to their own “fold,” and that God will send good shepherds to lead them. Speaking through Jeremiah, God makes an even more startling promise, that God will raise up from David’s line a “righteous branch,” a true king who will be wise, just, and righteous. From very early on, Christians have understood Jesus to be that “righteous branch,” that wise, just ruler.

If Jeremiah gave us God’s promises about a ruler in the earthly realm, in a restored Jerusalem, Paul, in his letter to the church at Colossae, gives a vision of Christ that unites the human dimension with the cosmic dimension. In what must have been a fragment of a hymn, he gives us a vision of the majesty of Christ, who is the very image of God, who gives coherence to the created order, and through whom God unites all people. If we are indeed subjects of such a Christ, if indeed we have been transferred out of a life of darkness into this glorious kingdom, then we are called to an absolute commitment to Christ: we either accept Christ or reject him, we either are or are not loyal to him and to no other. Neither the Colossians nor we can be spiritual consumers, picking one element from column A and another from column B, following Christ’s lead when we feel like it and the call of worldly pursuits when we don’t.

Of what kind of king are we subjects? We’ve heard Jeremiah’s vision of a righteous shepherd and Paul’s vision of a cosmic Christ who reconciles all creation within himself. Then we come to the Gospel. Wham! We have Jesus on the cross, tortured, humiliated, and executed as a criminal. Is this the picture of a king? The inscription on the cross, which is supposed to let onlookers know for what crimes the person is being executed, declares “The King of the Jews.” The soldiers declare, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.” We may be proclaiming Jesus’ absolute authority in our lives, we may be declaring ourselves to be his subjects, but for those who saw him in the flesh that day, he was anything but a king. He was powerless, his friends, except for a few stalwart women, had deserted him, and he was surrounded by a jeering crowd and brutal executioners.

What are we to make of this depiction of Jesus’ crucifixion? There’s no blood or gore in Luke’s account. But there is in Luke – and in Luke alone an – an astonishing conversation between Jesus and the second thief. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” the thief says. Kingdom? On the face of it, this is an absurd request. There the two of them are, stripped naked, bereft of every human relationship or possession, dragged outside the city walls, undergoing a brutally painful death, and knowing that they will be left hanging on their crosses as examples to any who would challenge the Roman rulers. And yet, astonishingly, we hear no despair or pain in this conversation. We hear talk of the future: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” “Today, you shall be with me in paradise.” Is Jesus really like one of those kings in his parables, able to show extravagant generosity to someone who asks for a boon? Does Jesus know something no one else knows? Is there more to the story than is apparent?

Perhaps. Perhaps there are a couple of clues in this story about what the kingship of Christ is really about. The first clue may be that, for now at least, his reign is hidden in suffering. He scarcely looked like a king on the day of his death, nor for most people does he appear to be one now. After centuries of ascendancy and alignment with the political powers, Christ’s cause appears to be failing. Churches have been undergoing a period of disestablishment, as theologian Douglas John Hall calls it. Church membership in Europe is virtually non-existent, and mainline denominations in this country are in serious decline. Wars stretch on and on, political leaders are assassinated, and gun violence, along with every other kind of violence, continues unabated. And yet, like the second thief on the cross, we carry a glimmer of hope. We can sense that selfishness, violence, and injustice are not the end of the story. Jesus’ answer to the thief allows us to see that eventually every knee will bow and every tongue confess that he is Lord. But for now his sovereignty is hidden in the suffering of the innocent.

And yet. Dark though this world may be, can’t we see the hidden majesty of our king for brief moments? Do we get glimpses of his mercy when someone recovers from illness? Is his grace apparent when relationships are healed, the hungry are fed, the grieving are consoled? Have we journeyed further into his kingdom when we take steps to right an injustice, make peace among those estranged, forgive each other, and allow ourselves to be forgiven? Do we walk in his footsteps when we speak a word of faith to those who are hopeless and suffering? If we strain our eyes, can we just see that there may be blessings ahead, even though the journey may be long and painful? Can we share our hope with those in despair?

Who is Jesus? Are we ready join the kingdom of the Crucified One? Are we ready to be transformed into his likeness? Can we see him already at work in the world?

Shepherd of Israel, hear our prayer,
as your Son heard the plea
of the criminal crucified with him.
Gather us into Christ's holy reign.
Gather the broken, the sorrowing, and the sinner,
that all may know
wholeness, joy, and forgiveness. Amen.