Paradise

Christ the King C-25
Immanuel Lutheran, Chicago

“Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43) Today. With me. In paradise. For his coronation, Jesus our king on a cross, invited people to live as he did. He opened a door to our life lived in God. A hideous instrument of torture and death was transformed. On the cross, Jesus shows us the way to live together in paradise. We have become a cruciform people.

Some of you remember our old friend, David Henry. As he was fond of saying, all four gospels contrast the way of life we have in Jesus with the way of Judas. The way of Judas is smart by worldly standards. The way of Jesus is foolishness. Judas avoids capture. Jesus is seized into custody. Judas is given free passage. Jesus is beaten and sentenced to death. Judas operates for himself alone. Jesus values love. Judas prioritizes self-preservation. Jesus stands in solidarity with everyone, especially the poor and all those who suffer. Judas turns a tidy profit—30 pieces of silver. Jesus gives all that he has—even losing his life on the cross. Judas dies alienated and alone. Jesus invites us to dwell with him in paradise from which we cannot be expelled, and which no one can take from us. (Pastor David Henry)

The way of Jesus destroys the wisdom of the wise and the discernment of the discerning. A ruthless Empire of occupation, a corrupt religious hierarchy, a blind, feckless people, faithless friends and betrayers threw their very worst at Jesus and still his heart was full, and his hands wide open. From the cross, Jesus demonstrates that nothing you can do can make God not love you. ‘You can disappoint me,’ he says. ‘You can break my heart and grieve my Spirit.’

Jesus, our king of kings and Lord of Lords, reigns from his throne on the cross, (Revelation 19:16). He bids us to follow him. Set aside your fears and embrace the way of love—for that is the way which leads into abundant life. The choice is always yours. Jesus or Judas? Life or death? Choose life. The path is open. The gate is unlocked. Today. Come be with me in paradise.

Jesus saves us from the illusion that we can free ourselves by killing our enemies. Christ our king offers no path to glory that sidesteps humility, surrender, and sacrificial love. The Lord does not grant me permission to secure my prosperity at the expense of another person’s sweat and suffering. There is no tolerance for the belief that holy ends justify debased means. Truth telling is not optional. God’s kingdom favors the broken-hearted over the cynical and contemptuous. Christ’s church cannot thrive when it aligns itself with brute power. We cannot be Christ’s church offering right answers but not right living. Where does this leave us? I think it leaves us with a king who makes us uncomfortable. (Debie Thomas, A King for This Hour, Journey with Jesus, 11/13/16)

Today, on Christ the King Sunday, our readings point at simple and startling truth: God never wanted kings. Any celebration of Christ the King must become an invitation to deconstruct one of humanity’s worst ideas. Dominion in the book of Genesis was never intended to mean domination. Our twisted view of kingship has done more damage than good. No kings isn’t just a political slogan it’s God’s plea to humanity. Jesus said, I no longer call you servants but friends (John 15:15). On this the last day of the year of our worship cycle we ponder the failure of kings. And we know the calendar will soon turn to the story of a child.” (Diana Butler Bass, A Beautiful Year, p. 313.)

Today you will be with me in paradise, Jesus said. But in the history of Western Christianity paradise became disconnected from today, placing salvation beyond, behind, or ahead of us—but not in the here and now. Paradise became disconnected from full engagement in the present.

Recent scholarship reveals that paradise was the dominant image of early Christian sanctuaries and liturgies (Brock and Parker, Saving Paradise, 2008). For the first thousand years after Christ, paradise meant something more than heaven or the afterlife. For them, paradise was this world permeated and blessed by the Spirit of God. Paradise was the salvation the Spirit offers us in baptism. To experience the Spirit of God in all things and the beauties of this world, early Christians helped each other cultivate an acute attunement to the life around them through art and worship.

These scholars claim “What we need now is a religious perspective that does not locate salvation in a future end point, a transcendent realm, or a zone after death,” (p. 417). In exile and in search of paradise, Christians “…today are anxious for home, for grounding, for meaning, for contact, for communion, and for escape from the present life, which can never match up to our imaginary goals.” Western culture needs to face the origins of its hollowness and to relinquish its violent, colonizing habits (p. 417).

Another Christianity is possible with the return to the wisdom of our ancestors. Paradise is already present. We have neither to retrieve it or construct it. We have only to perceive it and to bring our lives and our cultures into accord with it. This is the way of Jesus. But the way of Judas remains a powerful temptation among us.

Just ten days ago, the Michigan House of Representatives passed resolution 222, declaring that today, November 23rd, be known as Christ the King Sunday in the state of Michigan. Ignoring 240,000 Muslims living in metropolitan Detroit, legislators wished to pause, honor, and acknowledge Christ’s kingship within every aspect of life.
It reminds me of when the disciples got Jesus’ title right, he is the Messiah of God, but repeatedly, misunderstood what it meant for him to be the Christ.

Jesus shows us what God looks like in sandals. Jesus is the type of king who knelt at the feet of his disciples, who washed their feet as a slave would, and said to them, I no longer call you servants but friends. This is the exact opposite of the kind of kingship expressed in Resolution 222. God’s power leads to a whole different way of being human. A cruciform people following the way of Jesus serves community and bears crosses. It doesn’t build crosses for others to hang upon. Meanwhile news media reported this week that proponents of Christian nationalism and authoritarianism following the way of Judas, not Jesus, report that Agencies within the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS), intend to implement a comprehensive plan to target Spanish-speaking churches across the country during the upcoming holiday season between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

St. Paul quotes an ancient hymn. Jesus is our cosmic king, “for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible…” (Colossians 1:16). Jesus is the “head” of the church, not as in Caesar holding dominion over people in a pyramid of power. It isn’t about Jesus being “head” as in the CEO of a company. Instead, the title used here implies the head of a river, the source. This theological poetic metaphor shifts power away from a top-down structure of dominion toward an organic and interconnected image, strengthening the notion of and promise of a new Eden. (Diana Butler Bass, A Beautiful Year, pp 312-313.) Today, with me, in paradise.

As Jesus hung in the gap between one man’s derision and another man’s hunger, he ruled, not with the power of a dictator, but with power like that of an infant child in a manger. So, what shall it be? Jesus or Judas? The choice is yours. Despite your mistakes and failures, Jesus calls you now to return to the path to paradise. See, all people become kings in the presence of God. And in that equality, kingship forever dissolves in worship and wonder, the full measure of divine friendship and shared well-being. The second century theologian, Clement of Alexandria once said, “Everything belongs to the God of beauty.” One’s response to the gifts of life already given, the beauty already here, makes all the difference. (Brock and Palmer, p.419)