The Once and Future King

On Palm Sunday, we welcome Jesus as our king. But what kind of king? The people of Jerusalem had expectations for him that were based on his title "The Son of David." What did that mean to them? This sermon explores those expectations -- and ours.

“Hosanna! Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the Son of David! Hosanna!” That’s a greeting not just for anybody. That’s a greeting for a king! The Son of David was the title given to the kings of Israel, the men who were descended from King David himself, the greatest king that Israel had ever known.

We don’t know much about kings here in the USA. We don’t have a king; we have a president. But the job of a king isn’t really that different from the job that our president has. When a newly-elected president takes the oath of office, that person promises to defend our country from all enemies, foreign and domestic. In other words, the job of the president is to care for the people. That means leading us in times of war, making sure that all the citizens are able to get what they need to survive, and generally keeping our country healthy. Kings do the same thing; but you can’t get rid of a king once he is governing. There’s no way to vote him out. When you have a king, you’re stuck with him.

That’s why the biblical text contains warnings about kings. The book of I Samuel, in particular, doesn’t like the idea of a king at all. When the people of Israel asked the prophet Samuel to anoint a king for them so they could be like all the other nations, he warned them that they didn’t know what they were asking for. “This is what the king who will reign over you will do,” Samuel said. “He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses. Some he will assign to be commanders, others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your wine. The best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks; and you yourselves will become his slaves.” (I Samuel 8:11-17, selected)

Oh, yes – having a king can be a problem. But we all know that there are kings… and there are kings. Sometimes, there are kings like the great King David. Oh, David had his faults. In particular, he got mixed up in that sordid affair with Bathsheba; and it messed up his own family for the rest of his life. But all things considered, David was a very, very good king. He united the twelve tribes of Israel into one unified country. He protected Israel from the threat of the Philistines. He even brought the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God’s presence, to Jerusalem. And if that isn’t enough, the Bible calls David “a man after God’s own heart.” Why, the name “David” even means “beloved.” No, there never was another king like David. He set the bar pretty high. But one day – one day the Messiah would come. He would be like David, a man after God’s own heart. He would be as good a king as David had been, but without David’s faults. He would be the king to end all kings!

Those were the hopes of all the people who waved palm branches on that first Palm Sunday. They were waiting for a king who would care for them like David did. Actually, they were waiting for a king who would take care of them even better than David did! And the man riding into Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday turned out to be exactly that man. Like the king that he is, Jesus cares for his people. In fact, Jesus did everything that David did, but better! Jesus united not only people of Israel, but people all over the world into one family of God’s children. Jesus protects us not from the Philistines, but from the threat of death itself. And we no longer need an Ark of the Covenant, because Jesus himself is in our midst. He lives not only in our midst, but also within the life of each person who puts their faith in him. Through Jesus, nothing can ever separate us from God’s presence! Jesus took caring for his people to a whole new level!

And he is far from the selfish, domineering monarch that Samuel warned the people about. To those who are in his kingdom, he grants fullness of life like we’ve never even imagined it! Like the kings of old, Jesus takes our sons and our daughters. But he doesn’t take them to be his slaves. He takes them to be his friends and his partners. He doesn’t demand our possessions, but asks us to lend them to him. And they are not used for war, but to spread his kingdom of love and mercy throughout the world. And what he asks of us is not even for his own use! It is for the use of the war-torn and the refugee, the ill and the suffering, the lonely and the unloved. No, Jesus is no king like any other on earth! And we could have predicted that just by looking at the way he came into Jerusalem. He didn’t ride a war horse or carry a sword. He rode on a donkey with empty hands – empty except for the blessings that he offered to all who followed him. He wasn’t dressed in armor with a helmet and shield. He wore the simple robes of a peasant. He didn’t have an escort of well-armed troops who marched in step to his commands. He was surrounded by a crowd of the most ordinary people. But Jesus is the king that conquers all other kings, cares for his people like a father cares for his children, and calls us to care for each other the same way that he cares for us.

There is an old legend in Great Britain. Some of you may have heard of it. It involves King Arthur, the first and some say the greatest of all the kings that Britain has seen. You know about King Arthur.  He called knights to live in his court, to sit at his round table, and to fight for justice for all people. Legend has it that when Britain most needs him, King Arthur will reappear to fight again for the good of his people. T. H. White wrote about him in his book The Once and Future King. We have a king like that, too; one who comes to us when we most need him; but his name isn’t Arthur. His name is Jesus. He is our once and future king! He died for us on Good Friday; he rose for us on Easter morning; and he lives for us today. He is greater than King Arthur; greater even than King David!

Hosanna!

Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord!

Blessed is the Son of David!

Blessed is Jesus, our once and future king!

Belief and Unbelief

What do you really believe about God's healing power? Does God always heal us when we ask for it? Is it because our faith isn't strong enough? Maybe the answer lies with what we choose to call "healing." This sermon will help you think about that.

If someone asked you, “Do you trust in God for healing?” how would you respond? Think about that for a minute. “Do you trust in God for healing?” Every Christian knows the “right answer” to that question. Jesus healed multitudes of people during his lifetime; and he promises to continue to heal us today. Of course we trust in God for healing! But I’m also sure that most of us have a little kernel of doubt, tucked way back in a corner of our faith where it’s hard for other folks to see. Do we trust in God for healing? If we’re honest with ourselves, the real answer might be “not always.” The reason, is that all of us have prayed at one time or another for a healing that just didn’t happen. Maybe we’ve asked that Grandma might have a few more years of life as she struggled with cancer; but Grandma died after a few weeks. Where was the healing that Jesus promised us? We can’t help but wonder why healing didn’t happen when we asked for it.

Now, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that our faith isn’t strong enough when the healing we pray for doesn’t happen. The story that we heard this morning seems to support that idea. (Mark 9:14-27) “Everything is possible for the one who believes,” states Jesus; and the sick boy’s father responds, “I do believe! Help me overcome my unbelief.” But is that what really happens? Does Jesus keep a faith tally for all of us and only offer healing to the ones with the most faith points? That doesn’t sound like Jesus to me! The Jesus that I know offers healing to anyone who needs it. So let’s look at the father’s cry for help a little differently, and see if it might suggest and answer as to why we don’t always receive healing when we ask for it. Let’s start by considering healing itself. We usually think of healing as a process that our bodies undergo – a leg that heals after being broken, for example. When we pray for healing, we tend to focus on physical illnesses that we may have. But the reality is that there are all kinds of healing in addition to the physical.

Consider Tony, for example. Tony was diagnosed with cerebral palsy when he was only three months old. He was a very smart and persistent little boy; and although he was physically nearly helpless, he never gave up trying to do what was asked of him during his therapy sessions. He had a beautiful smile and a winning way with everyone he met. But his parents – his mother, in particular – had difficulty coping with his needs. Although she was a member of a prayer group in her congregation that tried to support her emotionally, Tony’s mother became progressively more bitter about his condition and angry with God. One day when Tony was a teenager, his mother burst into the house very excited. “We’re going to a special healing service!” she announced. “The lady who invited us said that all things are possible with God! Her friends are going to lay hands on you, Tony, and your cerebral palsy is going to be cured!” The healing service was beautiful. But Tony’s condition didn’t change. Tony’s mother claimed healing in the name of Jesus, and asked all her friends to pray for a miracle. But weeks went by, and nothing happened. The more his mother prayed, the more depressed Tony became. He attended his church youth group; and the young people there, too, prayed for a miracle. But during all these prayers, Tony would sit grimly, staring straight ahead; and his medical condition remained unchanged. Then one day, Tony accepted an invitation to another youth group in a different part of town. The group was friendly and welcoming. No one prayed for him. In fact, no one treated Tony any differently than the other group members. Tony began attending that youth group on a regular basis. One night during a small group discussion, Tony said that he wanted to be filled with the Holy Spirit. He didn’t want to be anyone exceptional, he said. He simply wanted to be loved for who he was. The other youth spontaneously began to pray for Tony – that he would be certain of God’s love; that he would find the peace that Jesus promises us; that he would find a true sense of self-worth. When the prayer was finished, something about Tony had changed. He radiated peace and joy. The smile on his face was an image of the one that he had smiled as a little boy, and that he had lost as he had grown older. Four years later, Tony attends a community college. He drives a car and lives independently. He has a steady girlfriend. Oh, he still has cerebral palsy, but it no longer defines him. In fact, his friends hardly notice it because of the rich, full life that Tony leads.

Was Tony healed? Not physically. But the desire for Tony’s physical healing had been so great that any other need for healing had been ignored. Miracles do come in all shapes and sizes, after all; and so does healing. Sometimes our minds need to be healed. When we are dealing with a situation that seems to have no solution, an “Aha!” moment can be healing. Frequently our relationships need to be healed. When two dear friends who have been estranged for years are reconciled, a powerful healing has taken place. And often, like Tony, our hearts need to be healed. When we don’t believe that we are worthy of love, it is a wound that can infect our whole lives.

God offers us all kinds of healing for these wounds that we suffer: physical and otherwise. Let’s not focus only on our physical wounds when God wants to make us well and whole in every possible way! My prayer today is that you believe that God has healing to offer you. Perhaps that healing is physical; but it might be something else. I invite you to say, together with the father in Mark’s story, “Lord, I believe! Help me overcome my unbelief.” May nothing stand in the way of God’s healing for you.

Worth Dying For

What is worth dying for? That's a good question to ask ourselves during Lent. After all, Jesus died for us on Good Friday. What are WE willing to die for? This sermon will make you think about that question.

“If anyone would come after me, that one must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Mark 8:34) That is one of the most difficult commands that Jesus gave us: “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me.” It’s not just difficult to do; it’s difficult to understand. What did Jesus mean when he told us to take up our crosses? Surely he didn’t mean that we are to literally carry crosses around! But what is it that he wants us to do?

Over the years, that question has been answered in all kinds of ways. For example, some people have believed that when Jesus said this, he meant that we should suffer intentionally. Many devout Christians became convinced that through suffering, we could identify with Jesus’ own suffering on the cross; and some of them took that idea to the extreme. Some refused to wash for years at a time. They wore filthy rags and lived with matted, insect-infested hair. Others went without sleep for days or even weeks; and when they did sleep, they did so in the most uncomfortable places they could find – on beds of rocks or exposed to the elements of nature. Still others flogged or mutilated themselves. You may not realize it, but when we give up something that we enjoy during Lent, we’re following in their footsteps. We’re denying ourselves in small ways, and identifying with the suffering of Jesus.

Now, a little denial isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But I don’t think that Jesus ever meant for us to suffer just for the sake of suffering. After all, Jesus said, “I have come that [you] may have life, and have it in abundance!” (John 10:10) Denying oneself to the point of misery doesn’t seem to me to be the way to an abundant life! And in fact, in his next words, Jesus pointed to that abundant life. “Whoever wants to save his life will lose it,” he said, “but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.” (Mark 8:35) That’s a puzzling comment. We die by saving ourselves; and we live by dying. It’s a paradox. What did Jesus mean by that? Maybe we can make sense of Jesus’ words by examining what it meant in Jesus’ world to carry a cross. In the Roman Empire, anyone who was carrying a cross was on the way to be executed. A condemned criminal carried the wooden crossbeam to the place of his own crucifixion. Anyone who carried a cross was ready to die. Maybe Jesus meant we should be ready to die at any moment for the gospel. But what does it mean to die for the gospel? Well, what is worth dying for? The prophet Micah suggested an answer. He told us that God wants us to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. And in the end, that is the good news of the Gospel: that God loves us so much that he offers us both justice and mercy, and invites us to walk with Jesus every step of the way. Justice and mercy. Are those things worth dying for? Let’s consider that question by looking at justice and mercy one at a time.

Most people would agree that justice is worth dying for. Remember, for a moment, those brave men and women who worked for civil rights in the 1960s. Remember Medgar Evers, who set up local chapters of the NAACP in the Deep South, organized boycotts of discriminatory businesses, and was assassinated in 1963 at the age of 37. Remember James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner, three young men who were helping Blacks register to vote in Mississippi. They disappeared on the night of June 21, 1964; and they were later found murdered. Remember the peaceful marchers of Selma, Alabama on March 7, 1965. On that “Bloody Sunday,” those marchers were brutally attacked by police officers using tear gas and billy clubs. In fact, remember all the men and women who peacefully demonstrated and were attacked with fire hoses, tear gas, and police dogs because of their efforts to secure justice for all Americans! Yes, God calls us to be just. And Jesus follows in the footsteps of the prophets who proclaimed that unless there is justice for all, there is justice for none. Certainly justice is worth dying for.

But if we are ready to die for justice, then we also have to be ready to die for mercy. We all know what that looks like; and we admire those people who die in the cause of mercy. The Good Samaritan who stops to assist a stranded motorist and is herself hit and killed by an oncoming vehicle died in the cause of mercy. But when we agree that mercy is worth dying for, we have taken a step into territory that makes most people very uncomfortable. When we are ready to die in the cause of mercy, we give up our right to decide who is worthy of our sacrifice. Think about that for just a minute. In the cause of mercy, we must be ready to die for anyone. When a lifeguard sees a swimmer struggling in an ocean riptide, she doesn’t have the luxury to decide whether or not that person is admirable or not. In the cause of mercy, the lifeguard risks her life by going out into the water after that swimmer. It was Jesus himself who set the example of dying in the cause of mercy. When he died on the cross, he didn’t die just for the good folks. He died for all of us – good folks, bad folks, people who are worthy of our love, and folks who have earned our contempt. Like God’s love, mercy doesn’t pick and choose who is worthy of it.

A few weeks ago, I saw a performance of the opera “Dead Man Walking” at the Schuster Center in Dayton. Some of you may have seen the movie of the same name. It tells the story of Sister Helen Prejean, a Roman Catholic nun who has been the spiritual advisor to a number of prison inmates on death row. That opera brought the audience face to face with questions of good and evil, justice and mercy, suffering and revenge, life and death. In one scene, Sister Helen was trying to form a relationship with a condemned murderer who was facing his own execution. She expressed her compassion for him, and she bravely declared that she would stand with him throughout his prison ordeal. At that point, he looked her straight in the eye and asked, “Would you die for me?” That, friends, is the question that mercy asks all of us. “Would you die for me?” Are you ready to die for a sinner as well as for a saint? Are you ready to die for a condemned murderer as well as for your own child? Your answer to that question is your answer to Jesus’ question, “Are you ready to die for the sake of mercy?”

If we claim to be ready to follow Jesus, then we also have to be ready to carry a cross. And there are crosses enough for all of us. Some of those crosses are very small. You can carry a cross of that size and hide it in your pocket when the going gets tough. If that’s all you can do, that’s OK! It’s a starting point! Most crosses are medium sized, because I believe that most of us really are ready to die for something that we believe in strongly. Those crosses can be difficult to carry. But there are crosses that are even larger than that. Those are the ones that the martyrs carry every single day. Jesus himself carried the largest cross of all. He died in the cause of both justice and mercy – justice for those who had none; and mercy for those who needed it. And in the end, that’s all of us.

“If anyone would come after me, that one must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and for the sake of the gospel will save it.” It is only by being willing to die for the sake of justice and mercy that we find the abundant life that Jesus offers to all of us. It is only by being willing to die that we will truly live!