Kingdom of Grace and Peace

John 18:33-37

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?" Pilate replied, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here." Pilate asked him, "So you are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice."

As of a few days ago we have officially entered the holiday season. For the next month and a bit our already busy lives will become busier, and the amount of stress that we are all carrying will most likely increase. The holiday season is one that we all tend to both look forward to and dread at the same time. We look forward to the good times, the happiness, the joy of Christmas morning, the joy of a new year. Yet we also dread things. How will we ever use up all the leftover turkey? How will we deal with those extra holiday pounds that always seem to show up? There seems to always be something that we need to watch out for. As we get older we tend to be better and better in anticipating those potential headaches; it’s either that or we simply don’t care as much.

One of the things that we all have come to understand is that there are certain traditions, certain things that you have to do, and avoid doing at all costs. I’ve noticed that many of them involve the kitchen, or at least mealtime. This last week when we celebrated Thanksgiving, we had to have a roast in addition to a turkey because that’s part of the tradition (my mother-in-law doesn’t consider it a holiday meal without a roast.) I was also reminded that I was now the unofficial, official carver of the meat – which meant that there was absolutely no way any of the slices were the same thickness or size, or stayed the same thickness from the top of the slice to the bottom. Every family has its traditions, has its own unique way of doing things.

One of the hurdles that every couple that gets married, or gets serious has to overcome is learning the rules of the new extended family. The better one learns and masters the rules the happier the holidays and family get-togethers will be. You can always tell the new ones at the family functions, they are the ones who are being a little too helpful in the kitchen, the ones setting uncle Bob and cousin Jim near each other. They are the ones who put the potatoes in grandma’s special bowl. You must learn the ways of the family. We all have things to learn about life and this world.

How often have we observed a child making a mistake in a social situation and commented, “They need to learn the ways of the world.” We go to a mechanic to get our car repaired, and know that they will most likely try to get us to repair something that really doesn’t need to be repaired, because, “that’s the way the world works.” We see businesses and individuals achieving success and notoriety on the backs and hard work of others, and accept it because, ‘that’s the way the world works.” We all have our own memories and experiences when we learned how the world works; when we became hardened to the world around us. I think it’s funny how we sometimes speak of children not yet being jaded by the world, how they have not yet learned the ways of the world. And then we have Jesus’ comment about his kingdom and how it operates. Maybe there is even more to Jesus’ comment about children and the entering the kingdom than we thought.

Today we celebrate Christ the King Sunday. It’s the last day of the church year; next Sunday we begin Advent with its yearly time of introspection and preparation for the Christmas celebration. In recent years, many churches have renamed Christ the King Sunday, and are calling it The Reign of Christ. Most of these have done so because of the term ‘king’. Let’s face it, we’ve all lived in a democracy for so long that our understanding of a king is based on stories and movies. That’s one of the reasons. For others, the term ‘king’ is problematic because of other reasons having to do with the unfortunate misuse of power exerted by men in this world. I grew up celebrating Christ the King, it’s the way I think of this day; but, there is something to opening ourselves to thinking of it as The Reign of Christ.

When we focus on Christ the King, we focus on an event, a person. When we focus on the Reign of Christ we focus on a way of existence, an ongoing process of which we are a part, and can play a part. One way, we focus on the person, in the other we focus on the effects of his reign. A reign, a way of ruling, a kingdom that Jesus said is not of this world; that does not function the way the world thinks things should be. The world has lots to tell us about how we are supposed to treat a king. How we are supposed to quiver in fear at their feet. How we are supposed to avert our eyes not look at them, lest they become angry.

Jesus said to his disciples, “follow me”, not obey me, not worship me, not submit to me. To follow someone is dramatically different than those things. So often in the church we worship the Christ, rather than following Jesus. Jesus said his kingdom is not from this world, not of this world. The people Jesus was speaking to understood kingdom, understood empire in terms of the Roman Empire. The way Rome did things was the way they understood empire. Jesus said that his way was different. Power was not about how many legions of soldiers you had, or the number of people who cowered in fear and submission. Power was found in service and servanthood.

In Jesus’ kingdom, in his empire, the poor were not put aside as riff-raff, as those that you walked past on the street. The poor were seen as fellow people on the journey, as opportunities to prove that Jesus’ kingdom was truly present in word and deed. In Jesus’ kingdom children were embraced and welcomed as the gifts they were. In Jesus’ kingdom, the stranger and foreigner was welcomed as friends we have not yet met. The sick were cared for. The sinner was not shunned but welcomed into a community of love. In Jesus’ kingdom our belonging, our membership, our citizenship isn’t so much based on our declaration of, “Jesus is Lord”, as much as it is in following.

In the first century, declaring someone as Lord was dangerous. Caesar was, according to Roman Law, the only person to have the title of Lord. To declare someone else as Lord was to break the law, was to invite the punishment of the Roman Empire down upon your head, was to declare that you were part of something other than Rome; and in an Empire that sought for uniformity and obedience, it was a crime punishable by death if one did not recant. Nowadays, things have changed greatly. In this country, we can freely say Jesus is Lord without truly thinking about it. We can stand on the street corner and announce Jesus is Lord to passersby; we can go door to door in our neighborhoods telling people that Jesus is Lord and get little more than a chuckle or a door slammed in our face. The police would most likely not be called; you probably wouldn’t end up in prison. You may even be admired by many and get an article in the paper praising you for your great faith. Certainly you wouldn’t face crucifixion.

Things have changed. So the question we must ask is if Jesus’ kingdom is still not of this world? Something’s definitely different. Is it the world? Or is it the way we have allowed the world to infect the kingdom? Without a doubt there are some ways in which the kingdom has impacted our world. We speak more openly about freedom and equality. We speak more openly about the ways we are called to support one another, and care for one another. But, have we lost our edge? Is the church still a voice that declares that there is a different way of doing things? How different is the way of the world from the way things are within the church? There was a time when to declare oneself as Christian was to set yourself against the world, to place yourself in the minority. When was the last time the church was the voice that rang out against the world?

I just finished reading The Underground Church by Robin Meyers. I whole heartedly recommend it; I am sure it will open your eyes and challenge you as it did me. In the book Rev. Meyers speaks about the church’s need to reclaim its voice of opposition to the world. This rebirth of the church is what he calls the Underground Church. I want to close with a reading from the close of one of his chapters. When he speaks of radical, think in terms of not according to the ways of the world.

“In the Underground Church, not every action needs to be newsworthy to be radical. Visiting a nursing home is one of the most countercultural things a human being can do. All it takes is mindful noncompliance with the forces of death and division. All it takes is a refusal to accept the status quo when the status quo is immoral. If our good news is not bad news to those who steal the future, then what right do we have to sing our hymns about the “sweet by and by”? We should not make promises about things that we refuse to help deliver.

Gandhi once provided a list of seven social sins, which ought to animate the Underground Church, uniting both liberals and conservatives around principles worth fighting for. He said we must resist politics without principle, wealth without work, commerce without morality, pleasure without conscience, education without character, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice.

Instead of offering up more tired arguments about theological and doctrinal “purity,” let us claim a future that we are simultaneously involved in creating. Christian eschatology is not escapism, not fear mongering, not the anticipation of the ultimate cosmic revenge. It is, as the great New Testament scholar and poet Amos Niven Wilder points out, the basis for Christian ethics. We behave justly in anticipation of a just future.

What could be more radical than that?” (The Underground Church, by Robin Meyers, p. 218)  Can we challenge ourselves to live our lives in the world, not seeking to escape from it, but instead seeking to live according to a different way? We are all in the world; but are we of it? Maybe we’ve learned the rules of the world a little too well. Lord, may thy kingdom come. Amen.

The Threshing Floor

Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 27

November 11, 2012

Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17

Naomi her mother-in-law said to her, "My daughter, I need to seek some security for you, so that it may be well with you. Now here is our kinsman Boaz, with whose young women you have been working. See, he is winnowing barley tonight at the threshing floor. Now wash and anoint yourself, and put on your best clothes and go down to the threshing floor; but do not make yourself known to the man until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, observe the place where he lies; then, go and uncover his feet and lie down; and he will tell you what to do." She said to her, "All that you tell me I will do."

So Boaz took Ruth and she became his wife. When they came together, the Lord made her conceive, and she bore a son. Then the women said to Naomi, "Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without next-of-kin; and may his name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age; for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has borne him." Then Naomi took the child and laid him in her bosom, and became his nurse. The women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, "A son has been born to Naomi." They named him Obed; he became the father of Jesse, the father of David.

When I was in high school I took part in the musical The Fiddler on the Roof.  Probably the most famous song from that musical is Matchmaker, which makes sense because the musical is all about how Tevya has three daughters all in need of husbands.  We see time after time how the women in the story go their own way, often at Tevya’s own pain and disappointment.  Another musical/movie that has those themes within it is the Disney movie Mulan; in it we see Mulan’s family worrying and wondering when she is going to stop running around like a child, settle down and find a man.  It’s amazing how the stories of women having others (parents, aunts, grandmothers) seeking the proper man in their lives is such a popular storyline.  Perhaps we like it because in some ways it seems so much simpler than the hoops, and dates, the wining and dining that seems to be required now in order to woo someone into a relationship or marriage.

But then, maybe it just seems easier.  Where I grew up in New Guinea arranged marriages were still the norm.  Families would bicker and barter back and forth about who was the best spouse for their child, eventually reaching a decision and setting on an agreed price for the bride.  Women in that culture weren’t just seen as property (which is bad enough), they were treated as property being bought and sold for livestock and cash.  Families would sometimes get into huge arguments about the monetary value of their child, and what was to be expected if the match was agreed to.  Imagine how the couples felt, since many times they only met each other on the day of their marriage.  Personally, I would rather have the practice of dating and falling in love with someone rather than what was is still so often the practice in many cultures around the world.

Regardless of the culture, one of the basic building blocks of society is the practice of people coming together in a marriage or covenant relationship.  People come together for love, but in many places it’s about security and being able to ensure your own survival and way of life.

Ruth and Naomi have returned to Bethlehem.  They are doing the best they can to survive.  Thankfully one of the traditions of Judaism at that time was the way in which they harvested the grain in the fields.  “Jewish custom provided for the poor by protecting their rights to gather grain in a field after the hired workers had passed through.  The edges of the field were to be left for the poor to reap (Leviticus 19:9-10; 23:22). Widows who were alone could survive only by gleaning or begging.  Gleaning is the practice of gathering what has been dropped in the fields or left on the vines after a harvest.  In addition, gleaners were also allowed to harvest what was left standing in the corners of the field.  Hebrew law also said that landowners could not clean up their own fields, vineyards, or orchards so that widows, orphans, and resident aliens would be able to find enough to eat.”[1]

Ruth being the younger and presumably more physically able of the two goes to glean the barley fields.  By chance she ends up working in the fields of one of Naomi’s kinsmen – Wait a second, didn’t we just hear last week in our lesson that Naomi didn’t have any kinsmen?  Hmmm.  Maybe she just didn’t like him or something.  Anyway, Ruth goes to the fields, Boaz sees her and likes what he sees.  But, being an older and more mature man, he does the decent thing – nothing (other than doting on her and treating her in a preferred way).  Boaz reaches out to her, making sure that she is safe and has plenty to eat and take home to Naomi – I’m positive not all the gleaners went home with the equivalent of 5 gallons of barley from their work.  But, for the most part, he keeps his distance.

Namoi though, is losing her patience and launches into her matchmaker mode.  She goes about figuring out the best plan for getting Ruth and Boaz together.   She basically tells Ruth to get as pretty as she can, and find a way to get Boaz alone someplace, and there convince him that she is the woman he needs in his life.  Ruth, ever devoted to Naomi, responds, “All that you tell me I will do."  And by the end of the story, not only have Ruth and Boaz gotten together, but Naomi has become the nursemaid to their son who by chance is also the grandfather of the boy who would grow up to be King David.  That’s how you spell success as a matchmaker, not only do you get the couple together, you get to be a part of the family, and hold the fruits of your efforts.

So, we know the story, but the real issue we need to wrestle with is what we are to learn from Naomi, Ruth and Boaz today.  At the center of the story of Ruth is decision and separation.  Ruth decides to follow Naomi, even if it means separating herself from the country, traditions, and god that she grew up with.  Ruth goes to the fields looking for food, and must separate the good grain that was left in the field from the leftovers that were without value.  Then, she goes to Boaz on the threshing floor, the very place where the grain was separated from its shell.  The finale of our story happens on the threshing floor, and I believe it is there we can find some meaning for today.

It is the threshing floor where we separate the desired from the undesired, the beneficial from the detrimental.  A threshing floor only works, only functions when all that is good, all that is bad, everything is brought and dealt with.  If you bring only what appears to be good, you miss out on a lot of grain that might not look so good on the outside, but is of great worth once the chaff is stripped away.  When it comes to the fruit of the threshing floor the saying, “garbage in, garbage out” does not apply.  You cannot know what the fruit of the threshing will be based on what goes in.

Where are the threshing floors in our lives?  Where are the places we go to examine our lives to separate the chaff from the seed?  Where do we go when we wish to separate the chaff from the grain in the lives of people we meet?   The threshing floor is and must be a place of nurture and character development and discernment; it must also be a place where we find acceptance, well-being and life.  For some the threshing floor may be within their family, or in a close friendship or other relationship.  For others the threshing floor might be in school or a therapist’s office.  But for many people, the threshing floor in their life is the church.

Within the confines of the church we are formed and reshaped, the chaff of our lives is stripped off and the good is given the freedom to shine.  The church, as the place where the message of Jesus’ love and grace is taught, learned and experienced must also be a place of transformation.  The church is not a place first and foremost for the holy – just as the threshing floor is not a place for the finished grain.  The church is a place where we come to be transformed, to make that journey from sinner to saint, from chaff to grain.  The church fails to be true to one of its purposes, one of its callings, unless it is a force for transformation in the world, doing all it can in seeking to transform both the people and this world into the Kingdom of God.  The church is not, and cannot be, true to itself, unless it is a church that lives out its faith by actively working to realize the Kingdom of God here in its words and actions.  God desires us to live in community with one another, a community of love and service, a community that lives out its thankfulness to God by working toward the goal of a just and loving world.

In our Gospel lesson this morning we heard the account of the poor widow putting in her two coins, and those who had much making a show of their giving.  I heard a story once about a young boy, years ago in a big city, who sold newspapers in order to survive.  One Sunday morning the weather was terrible and he escaped into a church during worship to escape from the cold outside.  He sat quietly in the back pew of the church as the service progressed.  Toward the end of the service, the time came for the offering.

The young boy watched as the ushers walked around the church passing the plates through the congregation, working their way back slowly toward him.  When they reached him, they held the offering plate out in front of the small boy.  He looked at it with wide eyes, then asked the usher to put it down on the floor in front of him.  Then, he carefully stepped into the plate.  The usher was shocked to say the least, and more than a little angry.  “What did you do that for?”  he angrily accused the boy.  In a small quiet voice, with tears running down his cheeks the boy replied, “Mister, I don’t have any money; I haven’t sold a single newspaper today, but if Jesus did everything that preacher said he did just for me, I will gladly give my life to Him.”

            When we come to the threshing floor, God wants us to bring everything we have and are.  It’s about putting all our good things and all our not so good things into God’s hands.  It’s about allowing God to take us and make us into the people we were created to be.  It’s about sacrificing all we are because God has already sacrificed his only son that we might live.  Is everything we have, everything we are, everything we could ever be, too much to ask, or not enough?  Amen.

---

[1] http://liberallectionaryresources.com/Proper%2027%20Year%20B.html