Sermon for Christ the King Sunday
Camelot and Calvary
By The Rev. Dr. Michael Cooper-White -
How many of you woke up this morning worrying about what the king might do or decide today? How many of you give much thought at all to kings or queens? Probably the closest most of us come to thinking about a kingdom is when we go to Disneyland or Disneyworld, the magic kingdoms.
While many feel that the very fabric of our democracy may be strained as never before in the current political climate, the reality is that our worldview does not include even the possibility we should ever be governed by a king or queen. We Americans are marinated in a democratic ethos, and the only experience of kings or queens for most of us is learning a bit about them in history classe, encountering them on occasion in a movie or when the British royalty have a wedding we watch on our tv’s.
By contrast, one doesn’t read very far in the Bible—either Old or New Testament—before coming to realize that the worldviews—and reality--were very, very different. In the Old Testament, God’s own chosen people Israel were ruled by one king after another. And in the time of Jesus, Caesar was the all-powerful ruler of the lives of his subjects throughout the vast Roman Empire.
So, for good or ill, the people of God we encounter in much of Scripture had to reckon with a king. They did wake up in the morning wondering, anxious about how the king’s or Caesar’s decisions would affect their lives.
Down through history, some kings have been relatively good, some malevolent; but all in one way or another concerned about preserving their own power, prestige and personal interests. Of such is the nature of royalty and many in power. But the world of kings and queens, royalty bedecked in splendor with subjects bowing at their feet, is a world beyond the experience for us 21st century Americans.
The closest we have come may have been 55 years ago. Some of us are old enough to remember that in the aftermath of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination in 1973, his brief 3-year presidency was described as Camelot.
Camelot, of course, was the mythical kingdom of King Arthur and his entourage who ruled in splendor. They gathered in festivity around the famous round table where they called each other Sir and Lady.
Camelot—a place of dazzling crowns and shimmering tiaras, shiny swords and princely horses for the heroic knights to mount as they forged out into battles—which, of course, they always won!
Camelot—an oasis of princes and princesses, courtly titles and jeweled coronets. Every man dashingly handsome and well-muscled; every woman a lovely lady in fashionable evening gown ready for the dance!
Camelot—an untarnished ideal with untainted perfection.
When we do think at all about kings and a kingdom, I suspect most of conjure in our minds an image of the Camelot kind of kingdom. And, I suspect, it was that kind of kingdom that the people in Jesus’ time hoped would come about soon again.
In the time of Jesus 2000 years ago, the people of his native Israel were a subject people. They were a people in bondage who no longer had their own kingdom. They longed for restoration of the good old glory days when the course of their lives was determined by beautiful boy king David and then a king of such good judgment that we still speak of one having the wisdom of Solomon.
As Jesus began to draw a following, as folks heard his profound teachings and witnessed some of his miracles, they began to believe that the long-awaited heroic king might at last have arrived. As they marveled at his courage in standing up to the oppressive religious Pharisees and challenging the brutal Roman occupiers, many were convinced that at long last the new King of Israel had come to them.
And as his reputation grew and began to spread, both the religious authorities and Roman government officials began to be anxious, threatened by the growing talk of a new king of Israel who might even be the long-expected, God-appointed Messiah.
In today’s Gospel, things have come to a head. Accused of heresy and treason, Jesus had been hauled before Pilate and interrogated: “Are you in fact the King of the Jews?” When Pilate could find him guilty of no crime, the Roman governor put the matter to the people, who shouted “Crucify him!”
To the horror of his followers, Jesus was put to death on a cruel wooden cross. The one they had hoped would be crowned with a crown of gold instead had a ring of thorns placed on his head. We cannot begin to even imagine their disappointment and disillusionment at this turn of events. How could they any longer trust a God who would allow such dashed dreams, such a horrific ending to what they imagined being history’s most amazing story?
Rather than crescendo to a glorious Camelot conclusion, the Jesus story ended on Calvary’s cruel cross. But even there, with some of his final words, Jesus held out a glimmer of hope and a promise of a new future. To one beside him who had reached out in humility crying “remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus promised, “Today, you will be with me in Paradise.”
So, what might be the meaning of all of this—this Christ the King weekend—for us?
Camelot or Calvary? Which image of a kingdom—the Reign of God—best captures our own hopes and aspirations? Which King Jesus do we yearn for amidst all the challenges of our lives in these times?
Let me pose for you the question I’ve wrestled with myself every year on Christ the King Sunday: Does it have to be one or the other? Is it possible we can embrace both a Camelot-Christ and the Christ of the Cross?
Cannot our faith cling to a Jesus who promises to be with us in all seasons of life—in the joyous Camelot high moments and in the suffering seasons when our dreams are dashed, when we struggle with physical, mental or spiritual weakness and pain?
As we observed once again our national day of Thanksgiving on Thursday, I hope for each of you there were some good memories of the Camelot times in your life. Times of achieving some goals, perhaps landing a dream job, maybe falling in love.
For some the Camelot times center around home and family, a close circle of friends, holidays and ordinary days filled with small acts of kindness if not extraordinary achievements and high-profile recognition.
Jesus was with the people of his community in their times of joy—at the gala wedding in Cana and more ordinary family gatherings in the homes of friends like Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Good times at the hearth, long lazy afternoons and evenings fishing with his disciples perhaps, unhurried leisurely conversations around the late-night campfires on their travels.
Let us not overlook Jesus’ Camelot moments in the magic kingdom of children surrounded by the little ones he seemed to love and admire so much.
Yes, indeed, the New Testament stories of Jesus reveal the benevolent regal spirit of the joy-giver God who created us in God’s own image of eternal and unbounded goodness.
But to speak of Christ the King is to speak also of another kind of kingdom, which Jesus described to Pilate as “of another world.”
For in his final hours, Jesus was crowned not with a diamond-studded crown of gold, but that cruel, thorn-spiked crown of suffering. His final toast was not with a cup filled with finest wine in an elegant banquet hall, but a simple chalice over which he declared, “This cup is my blood; remember, please remember.”
The final coronation of Christ the King occurred not in a Camelot-palace but on a cross at Calvary.
And so, just as he is among and with us in our Camelot-high moments of life, Jesus is there for us in the Calvary seasons of our lives also.
When the Camelots seem a thing of the past; when the aging process or disease and maladies take away the vigor and promise of youth; when a loved one dies and the loneliness and grief are overwhelming; when the stock market heads south and we worry if the resources will be sufficient in future or current retirement; when a treasured friendship or love relationship ends; when depression descends or someone close to us becomes a victim of crime or addiction—in the Calvary times and lowest seasons, Jesus is just as present as in the high Camelot moments of our lives.
When we may most question our own worth and whether or not our lives matter, Jesus, Christ Ruler of the Universe, looks into our eyes and declares unequivocally: “Oh, yes, you are of great value; you are a child of God loved so much that I went to Calvary so that you and all people can be assured of an eternal Camelot beyond your wildest imagination.”
Dear friends here at Mt. Olive, as I have spent a bit of time among you, as I have heard your pastor sing your praises as a people of God truly engaged in multiple ministries of outreach and compassion, I thank you for the privilege of being in your midst. I have every confidence that you will continue sharing with others the Good News we hear once again on this last Sunday of the church year as we prepare to begin Advent next week. Jesus is with us in all seasons of life. In our Camelot moments and in Calvary times, God stands with us, walks beside us into the future.
This sermon was preached by Michael Cooper-White, President Emeritus of United Lutheran Seminary. Sunday, Nov. 25, 2018
