Jesus rules!

The last king under whose name Australians went to war was King George VI. George became king on the abdication of his elder brother, Edward VIII, later Duke of Windsor. George was Queen Elizabeth II’s father. Many are hopeful that Charles will succeed his mother (as Charles III or, apparently as he would allegedly prefer, George VII), and then be followed by his son, William (V). I have to admit that I’m a bit of a republican, and I my hope is that Elizabeth II will be our last monarch.

After the executions of England’s Charles I and France’s Louis XVI, it became evident that sovereignty was vested not in a singular person (sovereignty means ‘subject to no one’) but in the nation and the concept of divine kingship slowly but surely came to an end. Kingship was once the norm across Europe and in many other parts of the globe. It had its origins in small tribal groupings (and hence its relationship to the word ‘kin’). For thousands of years kings were not so much venerated for their status, but for their leadership in battle, the wisdom of their judgements and the integrity of their mercy. Kingship came late to Israel and was never a great success. There was always too much selfishness, greed, division and intrigue. David’s kingship, however much it was filled with such attributes, was seen as a highpoint in Israel’s history. David was indeed a successful commander and his constant failures appealed to those who saw him as very human. Yet it is this figure, David, who sets the mark. As Israel slowly disintegrated, they longed for a return to a Davidic kingship. The one who would bring Israel back from the brink would be a descendent of that same David. He would be a warrior-king.

In Daniel we again hear the prophecy: ‘And I saw … one like a son of man… On him was conferred sovereignty, glory and kingship, and all men of all peoples, nations and languages became his servants …(7:13-14).’ A king was expected, a mighty king indeed.

And yet, the disciples and evangelists saw Jesus, the son of Mary and (apparently) the builder’s son, as a king: To Pilate’s question: ‘Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus replies: ‘Yes, I am a king. I was born for this. I came into the world for this: to bear witness to the truth; and all who are on my side listen to my voice (John 18:33/37).’ Jesus’ kingship is not about politics, deception and scheming, but about his leadership in truth, the wisdom of his justice, the integrity of his mercy and love, his absolute faithfulness to his father and his disciples, his deep companionship and abiding presence in the Sacraments. Jesus’ response to Pilate could not be more truly said. His kingship is not of this world (the way we live now) and yet it is here among us (in what we do).

No. A Charles, George or William is not needed in my books. Australians have a firm indentity and we see our sovereignty firmly entrenched in our nationhood and democratic institutions. The image of Jesus as king may not fit our current political preferences, yet it is rich in tradition and imagery. When we open our hearts to him, we invite him to reign in our lives; his kingship becomes paralleled with our lived Christian experience. This Sunday is the feast of Christ the King, our parish ‘feast day’. Come worship the King!

Our inexhaustable comfort

May our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father who has given us his love and,

through his grace, such inexhaustible comfort and such sure hope, comfort you

and strengthen you in everything good that you do or say.

2 Thessalonians 2:16f

One of the latest idiocies is the publication of an article written for the local newspaper placed online before being printed, so that when the article is printed there are Facebook comments from the hoi polloi printed alongside it.  We had an example last year when our iPad program was lambasted as elitist and exclusive. Recently, a local college principal was taken to task by Facebookers on the demise of Leavers’ dinners for Year 10s. And last week, Archbishop Porteous wrote a byline for a Tasmanian newspaper on the contribution of Christianity to western civilization. The rancour expressed on the newspaper websites and Facebook was uncompromising. It is not so much the level of dissatisfaction or disenchantment they have with the church, but a clear statement of their total alienation from the church and all it stands for.

In the 2011 census 61% of Australians professed an affiliation with Christianity, while 22% reported they had no religious affiliation at all. It is not unreasonable to accept that the percentage of Christians will continue to plummet in the years to come. It has been happening slowly but surely for over 100 years in Australia.

It raises questions: ‘What is a Christian?’ ‘Who is a Christian?’ ‘What does a Christian believe and do?’ The catechism of the Catholic Church, launched by John Paul II in 1997, is based on the Apostles Creed and explores and defines the church’s teachings about the Christian faith and life. It is worthwhile recalling the words of the creed:

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth; I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day He rose again. He ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen

When we confess these words, it is an acknowledgement of what is at the very core of who we are and its strength lies in the extraordinary hope that its authors, our ancestors in faith, sought to ensure we understood.

My fear for those who have abandoned their faith or whose disillusionment with Christianity is a result of bitter experience, is that hope itself may be lost; that all that remains is just the present, the preservation of the earth for future generations; a total dying of self where I become just another biological being that is born, lives and dies in a cycle of life that has no consequence. It is not about ego, it is about purpose, about meaning – and this is what faith does.

What will our society of 2113 look like? Will be a society of rationalists, humanists? If this is what we want, we just need to keep doing what we’re doing already. If we want a Christian future, we need to make a difference right now.

The real surprise

‘Today salvation has come to this house, because this man too is a son of Abraham;

for the Son of Man has come to seek out and save what was lost.’

Luke 19:10

There are occasions when there are extraordinary reversals, when the anticipated outcome of a particular encounter is turned on its head. There is the element of surprise!

The Lucan story of Zacchaeus is one such story. The tax collector Zacchaeus joined the townspeople of Jericho to welcome Jesus. Being short, he couldn’t see him, so he ran ahead and climbed a tree. Jesus saw him and called out to him, ‘Zacchaeus, come down. Hurry, because I must stay at your house today.’ Zacchaeus welcomed Jesus and took him to his home while the crowd muttered about Jesus being hosted by a sinner. When Zacchaeus heard this he told Jesus that he would give half his wealth to the poor and for those he had cheated he would repay them four times what he took.

There are, in this story, a number of marvellous and clever reversals. Zacchaeus, the one most keen to see Jesus, is indeed a sinner, certainly for his contemporaries – after all he collected taxes for his Roman overlords. His lack of height meant he had to climb up to see Jesus, and it is he who looked down on him. And it is not Zacchaeus who invited Jesus to his home, Jesus invited himself. Now the one who was so honoured with providing hospitality is condemned by his neighbours. And so like many of the Gospel healing stories, the turn around is that the focus is not really on Zacchaeus but on the complaining townspeople – for it is they who have yet to be converted/healed/transformed. And so we ask ourselves, who is the story for?

In the end, the story is about you and me. Luke lets us know what it takes to be become a disciple: humility, acceptance of who I am, with all my faults and failings, but remaining open to Jesus in whatever way he comes to me and allowing him to make a home with me, to become an integral part of my life – and then ultimately, allow myself to be taken up and transformed so that my life mirrors the person of Jesus. I reconcile myself with my community and make amends.

But you and I are also those complaining townspeople, crying ‘What about me, it isn’t fair!’ We are very interested in what is happening, but we just can’t take the next step – letting go. It is so much easier to stand with the crowd and crow about those who are publically known sinners.

But the real surprise is this: Jesus chooses me and you and all we have to do is climb down from our tree and accept his invitation.