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Advent – hard as it is to believe unless you look out the window – begins next Sunday, and the brochure in your bulletin indicates a very full and meaningful Advent season here at Third Church. Lots of opportunities to learn and serve and worship. So today is the transition day, and the tradition has called it Christ the King Sunday, a day to focus on the person and work of Jesus Christ, as we prepare to begin again the season of waiting and anticipation. Sometimes I like to think of our hymnal as a kind of curriculum, a textbook of faith. If you want to know what the church has thought about certain things, read its hymns. And that is never more true than it is about Jesus. Thumb through the section about Jesus in the hymnal, or the section called “life in Christ,” to learn what we’ve thought over the centuries. What a wide spectrum it is. From the mighty “Christ Is Made the Sure Foundation” to the gospel-y “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” We won’t sing all of them this morning – because of the timing of things, we’ve also got to work in some of those Thanksgiving classics. But I have a confession to make. There have been years on this day, Christ the King Sunday, that have coincided with the day after one of the most important days in the year – the day of the Ohio State-Michigan game. And one of the best hymns about Jesus, “Come Christians, Join to Sing,” sounds very, very similar to “Carmen Ohio,” the Ohio State alma mater. So much so that one could replace the words “Alleluia, amen” with “how firm thy friendship O-hi-o.” Not that I’ve ever done that, or ever done that so that anyone would ever notice. We will sing that hymn at my funeral, not because of the Ohio State connections, and not that I am ready for that particular event anytime soon, but because of its meaning for my family and me. And we won’t sing it this year, at least today, and I hope I haven’t ruined that hymn for you. Some of you were very nice to me several weeks ago when you didn’t rub in the Penn State victory over my beloved Buckeyes, and I want to return that same kindness to my Michigan friends by not mentioning yesterday’s 42-7 score. But to that hymn, and to other hymns, and to the topic of the day. Jesus. Christ the King. Brother. Friend. Rock. Lamb of God. Priest. Prophet. Teacher. It is the central question of our faith – who is this Jesus and how and why does he matter in our life and in the life of the church and world. It is a particularly pregnant question in this moment in time, as religious conflict rages and multi-faith, interfaith conversations prosper. When our tradition has been at its fussiest, we have fussed over this question, and the great councils of the church over the centuries have been gathered to address this matter. Who is Jesus? We’ve answered the question in various ways, with varying degrees of clarity and controversy. If word count matters, the creeds of the church give a clue. The Apostles’ Creed, which we often share here at the time of baptism, says much about Jesus. Conceived by the Holy Ghost. Born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate. Was crucified, dead and buried. These are familiar words. You will recognize what’s missing, of course, or what is represented, as a seminary professor once said, in a punctuation mark. “Born of the Virgin Mary – comma – suffered under Pontius Pilate.” You can tell the nature of the controversy 12 centuries ago by what was included and what was left out. Today, and for the last half century, the focus has been on earthly ministry – look what we will affirm in a few moments in our affirmation, what Jesus did here on earth. Both are correct, yet each offers only a partial understanding. The prophet Ezekiel offers one vision, actually two within a few brief verses. Shepherd and judge. We Christians read the Old Testament with several sets of lenses, knowing that our tradition sees Jesus on every page, and knowing that our Jewish forbears did not, and do not. Even then, images of shepherd and judge will continue into the New Testament understanding of who Jesus is. One who guides and protects and offers shelter and sanctuary. One who determines and convicts and separates. How can both be true? How can both not be true? Jesus, speaking of himself at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel, speaks of this very separation, sheep and goats. We would wonder what the criteria might be – what qualifies us, or disqualifies us. Eloquent prayers? Perfect worship attendance? Saying yes when the nominating committee calls? That is to say, religious rewards must have something to do with religious belief and practice, right? Well, the good shepherd articulates the criteria ethically – how we respond to the needs of the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the sick, the stranger. So not only is Jesus the great judge and the wise and caring shepherd, but he is the one who establishes our ethical standards, and then embodies in his very life what that vision looks like, and even more so, connects his life with those who are experiencing hunger and thirst and homelessness and estrangement. Some king, eh? Except that’s what this is all about, a kingship unlike any other, a lordship that turns the notion of royal expectation inside out, a messiah who rejects earthly power and military power and even religious power, whose power is known in weakness, whose strength is known in love. In his fine book Jesus the Savior, William Placher writes that our call is to explore who he was, who he is and what he does. It is a lifetime quest, more than a lifetime, perhaps, and it will work on us in many ways. Some of us will be comforted by him in times of trouble or heartache or illness. Some of us will be challenged by him as we make choices about the living of our lives and the ethical options before us. Some of us will allow him to serve as the lens through which we examine our own lives. Some of us will pray to him in anger; some of us will pray to him in hope. In a book from several years ago, Marcus Borg and N.T. Wright explore these different facets. Borg is known as a member of the Jesus Seminar, who raises questions about the historical nature of the gospels, though not a dogmatist. Wright is known as more traditional, a defender of historic faith, though also not a dogmatist. And both regard those labels as limiting. Borg and Wright each regard "Jesus of Nazareth as Lord,” and both engage in the practices of Christian faith. We American Christians have done funny things to Jesus. We have turned him into a “cultural hero” and “national obsession,” according to Richard Wightman Fox, a “national icon,” according to Stephen Prothero. For the most part, Jesus was absent from our recent presidential campaign, which I take to be a good thing. He has been, in the past, used as a wedge on controversial political issues, but has been primarily ignored on the issues that matter most – like hunger, like homelessness, like poverty. Garry Wills writes that “the Jesus of the gospels is scandalous,” and how much more interesting our lives would be – for their own sake, for the sake of the church and the sake of the world – if we were to embrace that scandal? Theologian Eugene Peterson writes that “if we have a destination – in this case, a life lived to the glory of God – there is a well-marked way, the Jesus-revealed way.” He then reminds us of a great poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins: “For Christ plays in ten thousand places,/ Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his/To the Father through the feature of (our) faces.” Ten thousand places, in ten thousand ways, I would add. Shepherd and judge. One who dies for us, and one whose living manifests the moral barometer by which all living is measured. William Placher writes that “even in unexpected places, we find ourselves face-to-face with Jesus.” (page 1) So allow me one last story, having nothing to do with sports. When I was a seminary student, I had the great opportunity to live in Jerusalem for eight weeks. I studied and traveled and met people and had an extraordinary experience. Daily I took the bus – sometimes a Jewish bus, sometimes an Arab bus, into town. The last day I was there, I made that trip one last time, to visit the Old City, to what is known in the West as the Church of the Resurrection and what is known in the East as the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Whether it is the actual site of Jesus’ burial is now beyond proving, but it is where pilgrims go, and it is where church bodies have fought, and it is where I ended up. I sat in silence for a while, and though not a very pious person, had a little talk with Jesus and myself. The question was not “what would Jesus do,” as was so popular a few years ago. Rather, the question was “what would I do” because of what he did. Who was I, who am I, because of who he was and who he is? What does it mean in my living that he is a shepherd, and what does it mean in my living that he is a judge? That question gets answered differently every day, sometimes more than once, and not because I am a minister, but because I seek, feebly and haltingly, to follow him, to be a disciple. Crown him with many crowns, we will sing, the lord of peace, the lord of love, the lamb, and by so doing, let us be crowned by this good shepherd, who judges us with mercy and love and hope. Amen.
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