Proper 29

A five-year-old boy was stalling going to bed. He asked for a glass of juice.

“No, sir,” his father answered. “No more juice. I’m king of the juice in this house.”

“That’s not right, Daddy,” the young fellow retorted. “Our Sunday school teacher said Jesus is the king of the juice.”

On Good Friday, Pontius Pilate summoned Jesus to his palace and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

Pilate was asking about a role defined by worldly expectations.

Are you commanding an army?

Are you a political rival?

Are you planning on overthrowing the existing government? Are you trying to overpower those currently in control?

Jesus replied by assuring Pilate, the political brown-noser, that his “kingdom” was “not from this world.” The worldly-wise and world-weary politico Pontius Pilate could not possibly comprehend such a claim. The demands, dilemmas, and deferences ordered by this world were all Pilate could understand.

Jesus’ kingship is decidedly quirky and unconventional in the eyes of the world. Those of us who worship a “king” who never brought opposing powers to their knees and who died a dreadful death, crucified on a cross as a common criminal, necessarily have to embrace a different ideal of “kingship.”

At some point we all have to make a decision about who or what is in the driver’s seat of our life’s journey. Family loyalty? Professional success? Money? Personal satisfaction? Pleasure?

A U.S. Senator dies in a traffic accident. He arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the pearly gates.

“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see politicians, so we’re not quite sure what to do with you.”

“No problem, just let me in,” says the senator.

“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one day in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is an impressive clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends, most of them politicians as well. Everyone is very happy and in golfing attire. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of their constituents. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.

Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that, before he realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up and the door reopens where St. Peter is waiting.

Now it’s time to visit heaven. So, 24 hours pass with the Senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a pleasant time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

“Well then, you’ve spent a day in hell and a day in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”

The senator reflects for a minute, then answers: “Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”

So, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up trash and putting it in black bags. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder.

“I don’t understand,” stammers the senator. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a club house, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”

The devil looks at him, smiles and says, “Yesterday you were attending a campaign event. Today you voted us into power!”

Be careful whom you put your trust in. Our first allegiance is to Christ and his kingdom.

Jesus’ proclamation as “king” of a kingdom that has its final seat of power not in this world forewarns disciples that faith in Christ does not necessarily guarantee success in worldly endeavors.

It’s little wonder that Pilate, the consummate political animal, knuckled under to the demands of the crowd and ordered Jesus’ crucifixion. Although he harbored no ill-will towards Jesus and had plenty of animosity toward the Jewish authorities accusing him, Pilate could not see any reason to actively “rally” to Jesus and his mission. He had far too much political capital at stake to risk taking an unpopular stand that would raise the ire of the locals and thus the anger of his superiors. We all know what it’s like to keep the peace so that we can keep our job. Pilate decided to go along in order to get along.

It’s the same choice all of us face every day. Whether you are twenty-four, or forty-four, or sixty-four, or eighty-four, the same decision confronts all of us daily.

Do we rally for Jesus? Or do we rail against Jesus?

Do we enthrone Jesus as “king” of a kingdom that is both “now” and still “not yet”?

Or do we enthrone a host of other “kings” of our lives?

Ever doubt the phrase “Jesus loves me?” Leave the gates of Jerusalem and go to Golgotha. There a man in the middle of two thieves is dying on a cross under the sign installed by Pilate himself. Some have called this sign the first Christian sermon. It read: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”

But like those two thieves on the cross, you can be in the very presence of Jesus, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and some will rally to him, and some will rail against him.

Which will it be today? Rally or Rail?

What is keeping you from enthroning Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords? What keeps you from rallying around him, and instead living lives that rail against him?

First, is Jesus only a part-time king? Christ is no King if His reign is only for a few hours on Sunday morning. Have you enthroned him 24/7, or just 1/1?

When you tour the Imperial Palace in Seoul, South Korea, you are told how Kings used to have one Queen, but many wives. We may have one hour a week with Jesus as King, but the rest of the week we’re consorting around.

Second, are you flying another flag rather than the one that only flies to wave the King of Kings and Lord of Lords? Or to put it differently, is someone or something else enthroned in that King’s Chair?

There was a community of wise monks who lived in the desert. One day a visitor arrived at the monastery, asking if he could stay. The old abbot came out and greeted the traveler, then asked why he had come.

The man answered, “I want to be wise, but I only have the weekend.”

The abbot smiled, because many men hoped for the wisdom which had taken him a lifetime to accumulate. He replied, “To begin, go to the graveyard and spend the day cursing the dead. Tell them they lived useless lives, and the world is better off without them.”

The man thought this was strange, but he did as he was asked. The next day, the abbot asked the traveler, “So, what did the dead say?” The man replied, “Nothing, they’re all dead!”

The abbot told him, “Today, go to the graveyard and spend all day praising the dead! Shower them with blessings, exhort them, and speak of the many ways society has benefitted from their life’s work.”

Now the man was thoroughly bewildered, but he did as he was asked. The next day, the abbot asked the traveler, “So, what did the dead say?”

The man replied, “Nothing! They’re all dead! And I have to leave today!” The wise old abbot looked at him and said, “What wise men they must be, to not be swayed by either the empty blessings or the angry curses of other people. They must know true happiness.”

How many of us allow the opinions of others to sway us rather than be true to our colors as followers of Jesus Christ?

There is a third reason why we may rail rather than rally. Have we really enthroned Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords in the first place?

In a book called Transformational Discipleship, the authors point out how Judas should have been the poster boy for discipleship. He heard every sermon, he counted every coin, he watched everything Jesus did. Yet at the Last Supper, the other disciples, when challenged with Jesus’ warning “One of you will betray me” replied, “Not I, Lord.”

But Judas said something different. Have you ever noticed the difference? The other disciples objected with the words “Not I, Lord” but Judas, only Judas, pushed back with these words: “Not I, Rabbi.” There is a world of difference between “Not I, Lord” and “Not I, Teacher.” For Eleven of the Twelve, Jesus had become Lord. For one, Judas, he had never made that heart transplant from teacher to Lord.

Have you? Do you rally? Or do you rail?