Jeremiah 23:1-6 • Psalm 46 • Colossians 1:11-20 • Luke 23:33-43
Royalty made headlines this past Tuesday when the newest member of the British royal family was announced, with Prince William now engaged to the soon-to-be Princess Kate Middleton. Outside of perhaps the now deceased and beloved Princess Diana, we Americans largely have been fairly distanced from royalty, going all the way back to our declaration of independence from King George III at the time of our nation’s founding. We are proud of our democratic way of governing ourselves. We like our freedom from an oligarchy so that we the people can determine our country’s direction. We like our belief in everyone’s right to vote, everyone’s right to freedom of speech, everyone’s chance to live the American Dream. We are taught that kind of inclusiveness, egalitarianism, and shared responsibility makes democracy hum and also makes us free from the perils of oppression and fear that pervade that “out-dated” model of rule called royalty.
But even in a country where power is supposedly shared, why does inequality and discrimination and injustice continue to make the “have-nots” feel completely power-less compared to the “haves”? In this most recent election cycle, many of us have been asking “why” democracy seems to be failing… Why…has campaign rhetoric become so personal and so visceral, full of attack ads that try to distort the truth rather than tell it like it is? Why, oh why, does our nation seem more divided, more fragmented and separated politically, now more than ever? Why…does government continue to show itself beholden to the interest of those who have influence, when the poor—those without any influence—seem to be the ones who continue to get the short-changed? Why can’t we save ourselves from this situation?
The truth is we cannot save ourselves, and that truth is not in us if we continue to believe we can. Jesus says as he is crucified, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34) We do not always know what we are doing when we try to save ourselves. Three times, that is what the soldiers and one of the criminals on Jesus’ side say to him as he sits on the cross: “Save yourself!” But as much as we try to heal and mend what is fragmented in our society, in ourselves, in our family, and in our marriage…we cannot save ourselves. Jesus’ reply to this request each time he hears it… is silence. Jesus doesn’t have to save himself. That’s not what he comes for. He’s come because he wants to save us…heal us…forgive us. His self-interest is totally for us, not for himself. And he does it all the way to the end of his very last moments on the cross.
And how is it that Jesus saves us? By committing one of the ultimate political sins: the flip-flop. He, the Messiah, the Savior, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings…he comes not to coerce us with his power, but to flip his power upside down…to share his power with us. And by opening up his power to us on the cross, he places us into a kingdom that is not our own, but that belongs to God. This kingdom turns power on its head, because those knit together in Jesus’ kingdom are not the nice people, the clean people, the polite and well-behaved people…the right people. Jesus opens the doors in his kingdom to share the power of his saving forgiveness…with criminals, with hustlers, with enemies, with those on the left and the right, and with everyone in between. Indeed the power that puts us in Jesus’ kingdom is scandalous power, power that serves us by creating an upside-down community that serves as a witness to the wider world that resists giving up privilege and status.
Jesus’ throne of the cross, the seat of where his power comes from, emanates his complete and total commitment as our Lord to come and redeem us, not himself. On the cross, Jesus does not rule as king like with a Disney-movie-like castle and moat surrounding himself, nor as an oppressive despot dispatching orders to his minions. The cross is where Jesus comes himself to bring the full breath of his Godly power in the lowliest of humble ways possible, to die for us, to show that he rules—he rules!—with a love that forgives so deeply, it completely dismantles death and it completely dismantles hierarchy.
If you have heard the news about something in our church that needs dismantling…it’s true…the bell tower has been found to be structurally unstable, with nothing more than its own weight and sandy mortar holding up its top portions. It’s challenging news that humbles us, as we face the reality of losing an aesthetic that represents our pride in this structure. But perhaps this news serves to remind us that even as our spirits may be brought down as that tower is brought down…Jesus is the one who builds us up into himself, not into brick and stone. Jesus’ power shines brightest through us even when we’ve been flipped upside down, even when we’ve been flattened, because he transforms our loss into an opening for new life, not with royal power but with power that serves us from the cross.
What does Jesus’ realm look like? What power has he given to us? This is power that saves us from ourselves, power that takes us into a realm that connects us beyond our own story to his own story of God’s giving life to the world. Jesus gives us the power to build his kingdom with the power of the Holy Spirit, a Spirit that Martin Luther renewed with his acclamation that the whole body of Christ is a priesthood of all believers. This power gives us creative energy to honor all the varied gifts people bring, it helps us address one another as brother and sister, it moves us across social boundaries that will make the kingdom more inclusive, and it is a power that moves us to share resources to address the most common needs. That’s what upside-down Jesus power can do, and that kind of kingdom comes when United Lutherans break bread at Jesus’ table on Sundays; it comes when we don’t just pray “your kingdom come…on earth as it is in heaven” but we use the power Jesus gives us to form his heavenly kingdom community on Earth; it comes when the Sunday community gets expanded by deaconesses who take worship flowers to the homebound; and it comes when we speak together with conviction and with civility about our hopes and dreams for our church and for the world.
This kingdom cannot be reached by ourselves…it comes from a power that is not our own…a power that moves through us for the glory of a kingdom called the kingdom of God. It’s a power granted to us when we’re humble enough to let God work through our hearts, hands and voices.If Jesus puts us into this upside down realm as our king, we can no longer separate our faith as a private matter and ignore our neighbor. If Jesus puts us into an upside down kingdom, we cannot sing hymns of God’s glory and might and deny our response to a Creation that is groaning. If Jesus rules this kingdom by giving himself for our sake on the cross, we can no longer manage our gifts of time, treasure and talent as if they belonged only to us. If Jesus truly has put us into the kingdom he rules not from above but from below…the possibility of a community ordered by a creative, vibrant, democratic power has not died, but remains alive. Jesus gives us the power to build up such an upside down kingdom community as our witness to a broken world that continues to ask “why” This is our kingdom witness that begins and ends with Jesus starts at the cross. Amen!
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