The Kingdom of God

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This final Sunday before Advent, the last Sunday of the church year, is often called the Feast of “Christ the King.” But we Episcopalians aren’t so sure about the feast. I’ll tell you in a few moments about the history, and why Episcopalians may or may not celebrate the feast. I quite like the Moravians’ title for this Sunday. It’s what is printed on your bulletin: “Reign of Christ.” The nuance, I’d say, is important. This day we celebrate a theology. We don’t have many Sundays that celebrate theology. The other end of this long season after Pentecost, Trinity Sunday may be the only other Sunday Feast. Dedicating this last Sunday to the reign of Christ asks us to end our year of reading Matthew’s Gospel with the central teaching of Jesus.

The Salvadoran theologian Jon Sobrino points to the primacy of the Kingdom for Jesus. In fact, Sobrino says, Christians would do better to emphasize the kingdom more. The liberation theologian says that Christians made the cross into our primary teaching, and in doing so we inverted our theology. The cross is important, yes. The cross is necessary, but it isn’t the center of Jesus’s teaching. The cross is a step on the road to the kingdom. Don’t miss the significance here. Sobrino is saying we have over-individualized the idea of salvation. Salvation isn’t about just me being saved from just my sins. Salvation isn’t a solo project. Jesus comes to bring all of us, all of us, all of creation somewhere new. That’s what salvation means. We can live with freedom, and hope Sobrino says, because “the dominations and powers have been vanquished.”

The word “Kingdom”

Before we go much further, let’s unpack the word kingdom. Wil Gafney, an Episcopal priest and Black womanist theologian, writes that we in the western church have a difficult time understanding concepts of government from ancient Israel/Palestine. Our understanding of what a “king” looks like is so shaped by white masculine European structures and systems of dominance, we can’t really conceive of the more tribal, familial, and interdependent reality of royalty in the ancient near-East. Our sense of leadership is still frustratingly connected to gender. Maybe at St. Michael’s we should just celebrate the Feast of Christ the Queen… You think I jest…

Today we might translate Jesus’ vision as the “reign of God,” or “God’s commonwealth.” Both of those I like, because it gets us past gender and monarchical understandings. But I don’t have a strong dislike of “kingdom.” Jesus used the language of his day, and he used it specifically. When Jesus talked about a Kingdom, he wanted to overturn his listeners’ sense of what a Kingdom meant. Jesus was proposing a different vision, for how we might relate to one another, how we might relate to the earth, how we might live and thrive.

The way of Jesus has a destination

The way of Jesus has a destination. All our prayer, all our action for justice is directional: it points us to the reign of God. The reign is not just about life after death. Jesus said both that “the kingdom is coming” and “the kingdom is here.” When Christ speaks of a kingdom, even when he says “heavenly kingdom,” he is speaking primarily about life on earth. We live in a tension between the already and the not yet. We live in a tension between the world as it is and the world as it should be. We are able to glimpse our destination, to approach it, even while we wait for the final arrival.

Jesus was leading his followers somewhere, and while the road necessitated carrying crosses, calvary is not the goal. The kingdom takes us further, out beyond the cross. We are an Easter people. Our faith is in the resurrection. The destination, Jesus promised, was worth bearing the pain and sadness the world can bring. Liberation theologians say, you have to know suffering is not the end. Sorrow is not the end. The ultimate point of Jesus was not to die for our sins but to lead us to a kingdom out beyond the suffering.

Again and again this year we have heard Jesus say, “the Kingdom of God is like…” The Kingdom of God is like a pearl of great price, worth selling all you have to own. The reign of God is a like finding a valuable coin you had lost. The commonwealth of God is like a shepherd who recklessly searches for her lost sheep. God’s reign is a place where banquets are held and the lost, least, and left out are gathered, invited. God’s reign is a place where workers receive the wages they need. You know you’ve reached the reign of God when you don’t worry so much about money, when money loses its power because those with more than enough learn to share with those who don’t have enough. The Kingdom of God is like yeast, growing, quietly transforming us. The Kingdom of God may appear tiny at first, but when we can muster faith, we can see a tree of hope bursting with life abundant. Jesus said follow me, we’re headed toward this new country. We’re walking there together.

The Center of Jesus’ Teaching

Today is the feast which celebrates the very center of Jesus’ teaching. The center of the teaching is hope, is justice. The center of the teaching is the destination: the reign of Christ, the reign of God.

The reign of God does not arrive by violence, as Cyril of Alexandria said. This is a reign won not by military might, not by force, but quite the opposite. God’s reign is inaugurated by the act of self-offering love. The cross is not the destination, but the doorway. You can’t sneak your way into the kingdom of God. You can’t buy your way in either. You won’t arrive by knowing a password or having the right answer. You won’t make it to the kingdom by sheer force of will and persistence. The way to the kingdom is the way of the king, the downward path of loving your neighbor.

Today we hear the story of judgement of the nations. Jesus astounds his hearers. He talks of peoples being separated, sheep and goats. Now, I know here in the North Valley of Albuquerque we are likely to have some goat apologists. My family this week saw a couple of goats being walked on a leash outside Bookworks on Rio Grande. To be clear, I don’t think Jesus is being literal about sheep or goats, heaven or hell. Like in many of the parables these are figures of speech.

What, then, is Jesus saying. If he’s not teaching us how to spot the infidels. If Jesus doesn’t want to give us a tool to judge our neighbors, if religion isn’t about judgement then what is it about? Jesus said, if you’re looking for me, if you’re looking for the King who will lead you to the kingdom, you will find me when you feed the hungry, when you clothe the naked, when you welcome the stranger (“immigrant” is one of the best translations of that word stranger), when you visit the imprisoned. When you take care of the least of these, the lowest of the low, who are my siblings, you care for me. If you’re looking for the way to the promised kingdom of God, start by looking down.

Here, in the last teaching, when the king sits on the throne, he says, “don’t be distracted by displays of wealth or power. The one who reigns in the reign of love is found among the hungry, among those without enough shelter, among those who are in prison.” The judgement of Jesus isn’t about appearing that you have it all together. The judgement of Jesus isn’t about strict obedience to the letter of religious law. The judgement of Jesus isn’t about nationality, it isn’t about language, it isn’t about sex. No, it is always, always, about loving those our world treats as unloveable, and loving practically.

History of the Feast

The Feast of Christ the King was first proclaimed just short of 100 years by Pope Pius XI. The pope declared the feast, in part, because he was watching nationalism in a rising tide around him. Having just survived World War I, Pius could see direction Europe was heading again. As pope, he criticized both Hitler and Mussolini, and he instituted the Feast of Christ the King, at least in part, to remind his neighbors that they were not Germans first, they were not Italians first. As Christians our first citizenship, our first loyalty, belongs to God’s Kingdom.

Episcopalians may have a difficult time with the Feast of Christ the King because our church has such nationalistic roots. We haven’t formally added the date to our calendar, though informally we changed the Collect, the prayer for the day, and the readings. We have a difficult time probably because we are descended from an established church. We Americans left the establishment behind reluctantly. Episcopalians are bold enough to have built a National Cathedral. We have held a close relationship, historically, with the state.

Jon Sobrino says we need to learn to read the Gospel from the side of the victims. We need to understand that Jesus came not to bless the powerful. Jesus’ promise is for the poor, the hungry, the prisoner, those on the underside of the relationships of power. Jesus promised we were heading to a place where age, money, disability, sexuality, immigration status and language do not determine your place. Jesus invited us again and again to question our loyalties. Don’t get too comfortable holding that blue passport. Don’t put too much faith in human governments, no matter which party is in charge. Remember, your citizenship first belongs to the reign of God. Christians are always a people on the road to a new kingdom.

The power of imagination

Whether you call today the feast of the reign of Christ, the Feast of Christ the King, or the Feast of Christ the Queen, today is a day to celebrate hope and imagination.

I’ll leave you with a word from another of my favorite theologians: Willie Jennings, likes to point out that much of the failure of Christianity is a failure of imagination. Jesus taught in parables because he wanted folks to lean into their God-given capacity to imagine new worlds and to enact them. Christianity has failed especially when we have failed to imagine a different outcome than the present. We have, in the church, according to Jennings, allowed our imaginations to be corrupted by all the old games of power and hierarchy. But Willie Jennings laughs and says, Jesus still has something to offer. A theology centered on the kingdom of God can be a lens through which we look at our world, at the present day injustices and instances of suffering. Jesus wants to help us imagine another world. Jesus wants us to imagine what it could be like to live in God’s reign.

The imagination is sometimes sidelined in prayer. Some contemplative practices ask us to disengage our imagination. Don’t discount imagination when it draws you toward God’s reign of love.

Next week we begin a season of hope, a season of waiting and watching for Christ. Advent is a time of preparation, and I would invite you to continue to use your imagination. How can our world be a little bit more like the reign of God? How could our city be just a bit more like Christ’s commonwealth? How can our church reflect just a little bit more the surprising reign of God, where all the lost sheep are gathered, where all wrong people are invited to the table? What will you imagine? How will you put imaginative love into action?