John 18:33-38 (NRSV)

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." Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”

As far as Christian festivals are concerned, Christ the King Sunday is clearly one of the lesser-renowned and lesser-appreciated festivals. This could be attributed to the fact that it has been observed for less than 100 years, as contrasted to the festivals of Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost that stretch nearly 2,000 years into history. The Feast of Christ the King wasn’t instituted by Pope Pius XI until 1925.

This festival was instituted following World War I. In the midst of the tentative peace from the end of the war, a vile nationalism and fascism was spreading like a virus through Europe. “The Pope felt that the followers of Christ were being lured away by the increasing secularism of the world. They were choosing to live in the “kingdom” of the world rather than in the reign of God.” **

Ironically, the gospel texts selected to accompany the Feast of Christ the King are various scenes from the final trial of Jesus – the trial that resulted in Christ the King being crucified as a criminal. The gospel from today comes from John, where Pontius Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews?” or, in other words, “Are you Christ the King?”

This is not a religious question on Pilate’s part. He doesn’t care one bit about the latest gossip from the temple. He’s not interested in having a theological debate over a glass of wine with a rabbi. Pilate is a politician. His primary concern is himself alone. And his success was dependent on whether people were paying their taxes and whether the peace was being maintained (peace at the end of a sword, as need be).

“Are you Christ the King?”

Translation: Are you a threat to the status quo? Will you lead a rebellion against Rome? Are you the one people will follow instead of me? Should I be scared of you?

Jesus responds with a phrase that would have reassured the anxious politician, saying, "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.”

Translation: Dude, look around. I’m all alone and powerless. I have no army, no weapons; I have no friends, no donors, no endorsements. I don’t have the votes and I don’t want your job. I’m no political rival to you.

Pilate is feeling very confident now. He realizes this man is no threat to him, to Rome, to the status quo. Jesus then interjects with one last disclaimer, “I am here for one reason only – to testify to the truth.”

Pilate responds, “Truth? What is truth?”

Translation: I’m a political puppet of Rome, I can’t think of anything as useless as truth.

Pilate fails to see that Jesus is, in fact, dangerous to the existing power and principalities and attempts to release him. Nevertheless, the religious leaders demand Jesus’ death. After having Jesus beaten as a punishment, Pilate turns to the religious leaders one more time to see if they changed their minds.

In John chapter 19 we read, “[Pilate] said to them, “Here is your King!” They cried out, “Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!” Pilate asked them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but the emperor.” Then he handed him over to them to be crucified.”

“We have no king but the emperor.” That sentence puts a smile on Pilate’s face, but it sends shivers down my spine.

Here is a rabbi who healed the sick, restored sight to the blind, loved and lifted up the outcasts of society. Here is a rabbi who preached and lived a message of truth, peace, love, and forgiveness.

Every breath he took, every word he spoke was full of beauty and truth.

Every breath he took, every word he spoke stood in direct contrast to the worldly kingdoms of Rome and the temple society.

Every breath he took, every word he spoke had the power to bring transformative healing to the world.

This is the true King – the one to whom every knee should bow. But the chief priests respond, “We have no king but the emperor.”

Translation: We are afraid to die at your hands and we choose you over the truth. We will continue to bend the knee to Rome and let injustice run rampant in our communities and watch our people get slaughtered as long as you let us keep our positions of privilege and power.

The obvious question today’s worship raises is, “Who is your king?” Who or what determines the course of your life?

Is your king your inner demons? Those voices telling you that you are unlovable and not good enough? Does the voice of the evil one who says you’re unworthy keep you from claiming your citizenship in God’s kingdom?

Is your king a grudge you hold over someone else– an ill-advised attempt to hold power of someone at the expense of living in the midst of forgiveness and peace?

Is your king the family down the street who has the bigger home, the nicer cars, the more successful kids, the seemingly-happier marriage?

Is your king your career or accomplishments? Have you earned every gift in your life through sheer hard work and fortitude? Are you able to see gifts of unmerited grace in your life? Would you be willing to give up the good and easy life you’ve earned for yourself if it meant standing up for truth?

Is your king your political party? If it comes to it, would you pledge allegiance to your political party even if it meant disregarding your beliefs and convictions about who and what God is? Or is it your party that dictates what you believe about God in the first place?

Or is your king the Christ? Do you pledge allegiance to the one who reached out to the least and the lost regardless of their race, nationality, or culture? Do you pledge allegiance to the one who testified to the truth of God even though it meant giving up his life? It is the truth that Jesus came to the world to bring love and forgiveness. Are you citizens of that kingdom?

We have been created to belong to God, and we will not find peace, hope, joy, love, or truth until we rest in that knowledge and that citizenship.

Our citizenship is not dictated by a mark on a map; rather, our citizenship is in the Kingdom of Heaven, which is present and available now and forever through Jesus Christ.

So, my friends, be bold in the knowledge that Christ is King. Take delight in the truth that Christ’s kingdom is characterized by righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.

May you and all people come to know the abundant life secure in the reign of God. Amen.

** Lucy Lind Hogan. “Commentary on John 18:33-37.” Working Preacher.

Mark 13:1-8 (NRSV)

As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

Pastor Aaron warned us all last week we had a doozy of a Gospel on deck for our Building Fund’s Commitment Sunday this morning – with this talk from Jesus about temples and stones and buildings and more all being “thrown down.” “Not one stone will be left upon another,” Jesus promises. It sounds like bad news for a building program – like Jesus is suggesting what a waste of time and energy, money and resources all of those large stones and great buildings represent.

As your pastor in this place – as a Pastor in the world these days, frankly – it makes me feel like I have to defend what we’re up to around here when it comes to Building Funds and mortgage payments and Commitment Sundays. Why bother? What a waste? If all of these “earthly things” will soon be nothing but dust under the feet of the almighty, what’s the point of it, anyway?

And those are good questions. Great, faithful questions, really. Enough to make any one of us think twice, I hope, about what we’re up to. So with this morning’s Gospel and those questions spinning around in my head, I was tempted today to defend and to justify what we’re up to and why.

I was tempted to explain that, yes, it costs money – sometimes a lot of money – to make a church go, but that I think we do that pretty modestly and responsibly around here; that, just for some perspective, there are single family homes in this community that have mortgages equal to or not far from the mortgage we carry on this facility, for this family of faith.

I was tempted to preach – on yet another Building Fund Commitment Sunday – about how we’re simply called and commanded to give our money and our stuff away.

I was tempted to remind you all that our mortgage payment isn’t just about paying a bill, but that it’s about teaching us to do that – to give our money away, to be generous, to do with less – something most of us – something most people, myself included – need a little encouragement and loving accountability in order to accomplish in this culture of greed where we live.

I was tempted to remind you – and myself – that Jesus taught and talked more about giving away money than he did about anything else, because he knew it could become an idol in our lives.

I thought maybe we could use a reminder that this is an issue of faith for people like us – people with money to spare, compared to most of the rest of the world, I mean. That this is one of the easier ways, frankly – writing checks and giving money – that we can live out our faith. That making financial commitments that are faithful and generous and sacrificial – and honoring them – is a spiritual exercise that blesses us and others.

And I was tempted to simply remind whoever showed up today that our mortgage payments don’t just go to any old bank. But that they go to the Mission Investment Fund of the ELCA – an institution of the Church – which helps to build and grow other communities of faith around our country and out there in the world, too.

And I thought it might be worthwhile to remind us all that we tithe our Building Fund, remember: 5% of it is building homes in Fondwa, Haiti, and 5% of it is helping to build a faith community at Roots of Life, right up the road in Noblesville.

I guess I was tempted to justify and defend all of this by reminding you that our Building Fund is about so much more than the large stones, the large buildings and the bricks and mortar so many see or think about when they consider the Church in the world.

All of that was tempting. But I decided against it. (See what I did there?) Instead, I decided to see Jesus’ words and warnings to his disciples about the temple crumbling to dust as all the encouragement and justification I need for what we’re up to around here – as God’s Church in this place – day in and day out.

Because before the Church – and long before this church crumbles to dust, I hope – there will be wars and rumors of wars. And we don’t need Jesus to tell us that, do we? And that means someone needs to pray about and fight for and work toward peace on the planet. That means there will be soldiers who suffer and plenty of people and places who need repairing and restoring and rescue, too.

And there will be earthquakes, Jesus promises, and hurricanes and tsunamis, droughts, red tides and wildfires, too. And that means someone needs to offer prayers and hands and resources to bind up the brokenhearted, to support rescue efforts, to mourn the dead, to rebuild what is destroyed – and to do what we can to prevent it all in the first place.

There will be famines, too, we’re told. And there already are. And the Church can send food and money and people to deliver it to those who are hungry. And we can support our own food pantries and we can show up like we did last weekend, with youth groups and volunteers, to lend a hand to people who are hungry in our own city. We can sell and shop for and support fair trade coffee, tea and chocolate, too, just for good measure.

And Jesus says we will be tempted to be led astray – that others will come in his name, preaching and teaching something contrary to the Gospel of grace and love and hope he proclaimed for all people. And this is what I think we do best around here, when we get it right. It is not a stretch to say that we – at Cross of Grace and as part of the ELCA (where people of color and women and our LGBTQ brothers and sisters are affirmed and ordained) – we have a uniquely wide, welcome word of grace and acceptance and love and justice to speak into and to practice in our little neck of the woods.

And that’s just the big stuff. Many of the ways we’re called to be the Church are much closer to home, aren’t they? There will be strokes and melanomas. There will be heart attacks and cancers. There will be bullies and suicides; dementia and nursing homes; lost babies, broken relationships, addictions, layoffs and more.

And all of it is why the Church is meant to be in and for the sake of the world. See, we don’t stake our faith or our lives or our hope on buildings – on earthly things like bricks and mortar. But that doesn’t mean we stop using them as the tools – the means to the ends – for which they were designed. And the Church – whether we’re talking about the building or the institution – is nothing more and nothing less than a tool, used for the work of God in the world as we know it.

So we give and we build and we grow. And we do it in ways that are generous and sacrificial and that seem crazy to the world around us – and even to ourselves some of the time. And we do it precisely because all of this will be thrown down one day – not one stone or brick or wall – will be left upon another.

And we will be left with nothing but the abundance of God’s love for us and for the world. We will be left – not with our money or our things or our stuff – but we’ll be left with God’s mercy and forgiveness. We’ll be left with God’s hope, realized. We’ll be left with God’s kind of life everlasting, which is already ours… and already enough… and worth giving to and sharing with each other and the world in Jesus’ name.

Amen