He Really Is A King

J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic story “The Lord of the Rings” features a character named Aragorn, who is a kind of king in disguise. You first get to know him as a wilderness Ranger nicknamed Strider who is pretty good with a sword, but in the course of the story you learn he is the rightful heir to the throne. This unlikely hero leads an army in battle against a great evil force and prevails, which results in his being crowned King. And, in fact, the third book in the series—as well as the third film—is called “The Return of the King.”

            This Sunday we hear about another King in disguise. Jesus of Nazareth comes to town, but He’s riding on a colt, born of a donkey—not exactly a war horse. He wears no suit of armor; no crown is perched on his head. He wields no weapons of any kind. Truth is, He looks absolutely ordinary. Yet He really is a King. As that colt took him up the road, the people were shouting, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” And Jesus was letting them say it. He would not silence those who were saying it, even after He was asked to.

            There’s a good reason for that. His arrival fulfills a prophecy spoken by Zechariah, a priest who lived 520 years before Jesus. That prophecy reads as follows: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your King comes to you, righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

            This Palm Sunday Parade is no accident. It is an intentional statement on Jesus’ part. By doing this, He is sending the message: “I am the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” The people waving palm branches and shouting out “save us now” (which is what hosanna means) have no idea how right they are. Jesus really is a King, but here’s the deal: He’s not just the King of Jerusalem. He’s not just the King of Israel. He is the uncreated, living God, the Maker of the universe, a King in disguise, if you will, but a King nonetheless--and not just a King but The King.

            And to be sure, this is a warrior King who is riding into Jerusalem. He is coming to do battle with evil. He is coming to go toe to toe with death itself. The hope that He would end Roman oppression was setting the bar way too low. This unlikely King will conquer in a most unlikely way—not that anyone along the parade route had any clue about what was going to unfold. It didn’t matter. At that moment in time, the shouting crowds were right. He really was the King, righteous and having salvation. And you know something? The shouting crowd is still right. Because of Jesus torturous’ death, He has salvation to give. Because of his triumphant resurrection, he has righteousness to give away. He has proven himself to be King, whether we fully grasp his mission or not; whether we give him our honor and praise or not; whether we serve him with our lives or not, He is King. It’s the truth underneath everything. Jesus is ruling right now. Do you believe that?

            This is a side of Jesus that you may not spend much time thinking about. We’re used to thinking about Jesus as our Savior, of course. We are used to Jesus as our Shepherd; Jesus as our Friend. And there’s nothing wrong with any of those ideas. They’re absolutely Biblical. However, we need to hold those images of Jesus together with this: Jesus is The King. His willingness to drink the cup of punishment…His courage in going to the cross…the valor it took for Him to lay down in your grave means He now has been given the throne of his Father. He rose from the dead to rule over all things, and He rules—this is the best news of all—He rules purely for the sake of His people. He rules with your best interest in mind. That deserves a careful response, don’t you think? Let’s walk through our response to King Jesus.

            If Jesus is King of your life, then to deny Him is treason. And yet we flirt with that denial all the time. We make small decisions to hide our allegiance to Jesus. We downplay our connection to Christ. We make those decisions out of a sense of self-preservation, but that sense is faulty. Denying Jesus is self-destructive. Just ask Judas. Or better yet, ask the apostle Peter, whose threefold denial of Jesus led to a dark night of the soul. He would’ve been lost in despair were it not for the forgiveness and threefold restoration of His risen King.

            If Jesus is King of your life, then refusal to listen to his Word is defiance, and disobedience is rebellion against His rule. Yet how often do we refuse to listen to His Word? How often do we replace time we could be spending with the King’s Words with other things? We cannot pretend that we are living under the rule of King Jesus if we don’t even know what He says. But then, what if I do know what he says, and choose not to do things his way? Then I’m simply a rebel who is choosing a new King and the new King is me. The funny thing about Kings, though, is there can really only be one.

            But now you will see what makes Jesus totally unique as a King. He will not force you to accept his rule. He does not demand to be the authority in your life. He will not command you to worship Him at the point of a sword. He will not bend you to His will against yours. No, this King simply asks you to watch Him. He asks you to see how he operates. He knows it’s pointless to try to coerce you into relationship with Him. So He just wants you to watch, as he rides into the city where he will die as a criminal, to watch as he gathers his disciples for a final meal and a new expression of mercy, to watch as he is mocked with a kingly robe and a hideous crown, to watch as he surrenders to the fists and the whip and the nails and the spear. He wants you to watch as they lay his lifeless body in the tomb. He wants you to watch, because as the warrior King, He willingly did all this to protect you. Do you understand? If Jesus had never descended from his heavenly throne to do those things, you would be facing the punishment for your sins alone, with no defense. You would be obliterated and separated from God’s grace forever. But Jesus says, watch what I do! I’m the King! But I subject myself to suffering and death to keep you safe. I’ll take the fall. I’ll drink the cup of wrath. I’ll taste hell for you, because My crown means nothing if I don’t have you. My kingdom is empty without you in it.

            How could you not love a King like that? How could you not pledge yourself to someone who would do that? Doesn’t he deserve your loyalty and honor and devotion? Doesn’t he deserve your allegiance and the shout of praise from your heart? Save us now, King Jesus.

Forward and Upward

One of my favorite movies of all time is the basketball story Hoosiers, starring Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper. It is a classic underdog story about a small-town team that defies the odds to win the Indiana state high school championship, back when all the teams were in one division.

            If you follow baseball, you may remember that the St. Louis Cardinals won the 2006 World Series. You want to talk about underdogs—the MVP of the Series was a 5 foot 7 inch shortstop named David Eckstein, who didn’t even get a scholarship to play baseball in college.

            There is something in us that naturally roots for the underdog. We love to hear about people who persevere against great odds. Sticking with the athletic theme, the apostle Paul compares the Christian life to a race in today’s Epistle lesson. His approach to that race is familiar to underdogs everywhere. Paul writes, “I press on.”

           

            Wherever you are in the race of life, may Jesus Christ inspire you to press on; to never give up; to persevere in your faith and in the mission he has given you.

            The apostle Paul knew all about performance. In fact, in this letter, he builds his case for being the hardest-working Pharisee the world had ever seen. If good standing with God depended on performance Paul would’ve been the MVP.

            So imagine reaching a point in your life where you would call that way of thinking garbage. That’s what Paul does here. He says, all of my right thoughts, all of my right answers, and all of my right actions are rubbish compared to the riches that are found in Jesus Christ.

            Now that’s not how our underdog stories usually go. We usually hear about the boy who would shoot baskets until after dark; the girl who stayed long after practice; about the one who studied the hardest or out-prepared their competitor. Paul dismisses his own efforts as junk, when weighed against the efforts that Jesus made to save him.

            Jesus had grabbed ahold of Paul, and Paul’s encounter with the risen Christ shook his life to the very core. Through Jesus, Paul learned that right standing with God—even more so, God’s love—did not depend on Paul’s performance. The promise of heaven was not a trophy Paul could earn through a lot of hard work. Right standing; God’s love; and heaven itself were all gifts! They were things Jesus paid for and gave away. This news totally changed the way Paul thought about God. Where before he was zealous for religion, now he was zealous for Jesus Christ. Where before his goal was to make himself the best he could be, now his goal was to know Jesus and the power of his resurrection, and to share in Jesus’ suffering. Paul’s new way of thinking about God is revealed in the language he uses to express his connection with Christ: He talks about “knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,” and of “gaining Christ” and of being “found in Him.” Paul is saying: this is what counts—a daily connection with Jesus, the living Savior. Paul’s new goal is to live in this connection; to experience the ups and downs of it, the challenges, the joys, the rest it gave his soul.

This is Paul’s goal, but he freely admits that he is not 100% there yet. He is not 100% like Jesus, and Paul was not in heaven yet, either, so he presses on like an athlete. He knows that the victory has been given to Him already. Why does he go all out? He goes all out to give honor to Christ.  “Pressing on” means moving forward in life with determination. It also implies that you don’t hold yourself back.

            You can keep yourself from living the full life God wants for you by holding onto  your past—the things you’re ashamed of; the things you regret doing; Maybe it’s something you said to someone you love. Maybe you cheated someone. Maybe it’s a pattern of behavior you’re not proud of. You know whatever it is.

            What can we do? Paul says, “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press onward toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

            Now, to just say, “Forget the past” doesn’t help much. First, you must realize your past sins are dead and buried in Jesus’ grave. Only then can you replace the habit of remembering the negative with something positive. Paul says he ‘forgets’ by looking ahead. He is striving toward a goal: to be like Jesus. He bends all his energies in that direction. He offers the visual of a runner in a race, stretching forward with great concentration to reach the tape at the finish line. Are you putting that much effort into your relationship with Jesus?

            That’s easy enough for Paul, you might think. He was a giant of the faith. What did he have to forget? Well, think about it. He persecuted Christians and put them in jail. He was there at the murder of Stephen, the gifted young deacon in Jerusalem. He spent years trying to earn God’s blessing by doing all the right things. But when the forgiveness earned by Jesus washed over him, the truth of God’s “Amazing Grace” enabled him to see the past is past, and God’s way is forward and upward.

            If you have confessed your past sins, if you have felt the magnetic pull of God’s love and dumped your sins at the cross of Jesus, then Paul urges you in the strongest terms to forget them. Jesus paid the bill. God has forgiven you. He will not keep bringing it up again and again. There is nothing on your record. Jesus erased the strikes against you with his blood.

            The way forward is to become more like Jesus. How do you do that, exactly? It happens when He speaks and you listen to what he says in the Bible, when you speak and he listens in prayer, and when He feeds you at his table in the Church. Jesus actually pours himself into you using words and bread and wine. Drink deeply from these sources, “stay hydrated,” we might say today, if you want to be like the one who saved you.

            God’s way is forward and upward. In this passage, Paul writes, “God has called me heavenward.” God has called you heavenward, as well. Paul coaches you today to press on toward this goal with all the determination you’ve got, with confidence that you are destined to stand in the winner’s circle, thanks to Jesus. The confidence you can have in this upward call is huge. It has the potential to change your whole outlook on life, death, and what comes next.

Let me give you another sports analogy to explain this. If you’ve ever played golf, you know what it’s like to stand over a three-foot putt, and this putt is very important. You’re putting yourself under a lot of pressure to make this putt. There might be wager or just your pride on the line. So what do you do? You miss it, of course. You choke. But then what happens? Have you ever done this? You take your ball and put it right on the same spot you were before and try again. What happens? You drain it. Right in the middle of the cup. Why? What’s the difference? The pressure is off! You’re not thinking about yourself, you’re just thinking about the putt. There’s no consequences, so you’re free to take aim and swing. And it’s fun.

Do you see? Jesus has removed the pressure of the upward call to heaven. You are going there because of Him. Jesus took all the consequences of sin himself on the cross, which means you are free to live for Him. There’s no fear involved. You can take aim and hit the target of a life that will please him. So swing freely. Serve with excellence. Love generously. You run for the Champion’s team.  

Two Ways to be Lost

It’s called the parable of the Prodigal Son. You’ve heard it once again this morning. It is definitely one of Jesus’ most famous stories. What you may not realize is that it was told in response to a complaint.

            You see, many of Jesus’ opponents were quote-unquote good people. Rule keepers. Law abiding citizens. People you would probably respect if you knew them. And they want to know, “Jesus, why are you hanging out with all these lost people?”

            Jesus replies by telling a story, the story you heard in the Gospel Reading today. But what you’re going to see in this well-known tale is that it’s really about two lost brothers and the Father who loves them both. Two lost brothers. Two ways to be lost. One is obvious. The other is shocking to quote-unquote good people.

            When you listen to Jesus’ story from beginning to end, what you discover is that both sons—the one who blew his father’s money in fast living AND the older brother who stayed home and did his duty—both are alienated from their father’s heart. The twist in the tale is that the bad kid is saved and the good kid is lost. At least that’s where we leave the older brother at the end of the story. He’s mad because his father is being graciou to his bad brother. He comes right out and says, “Because I’ve done good, because I’ve worked hard, because I’ve never disobeyed you, you should do things my way. You owe me.” Jesus created the character of the older brother to show that a person who brings that attitude into their relationship with God is just as lost as the person who goes out and commits every sin in the book.

            How can that be? Well, listen. Jesus is telling this story to a group of people who are offended that He would hang out lost people, and through the story he is saying, “If that offends you, then you are just as lost as they are. It might be worse, because you don’t even realize you’re lost!” It’s like this: A person who finds the grace of Jesus distasteful; the person who is offended by the idea that Jesus would want someone “like those sinners;” a person who is scandalized by the mercy of Jesus towards someone else doesn’t really believe that mercy is the foundation of their own standing with God. In other words, you either look to God to save you, or something else. You either look to Jesus to justify you, or something else. The older brother in the story was looking to something else, and it was his own work. He was saying, my hard work, my dedication, my loyalty justifies me to my Father—therefore he owes me. The older son doesn’t understand the grace being shown to the younger son because he doesn’t believe in grace for himself.

So right away I have to ask: do you look to Jesus to justify you, or are you looking to something else? There’s a scene in the movie “Chariots of Fire” that speaks to this. In “Chariots of Fire” the Olympic sprinter Harold Abrams is asked why he puts himself under such pressure in his training. And do you know what he says? He says, “When that gun goes off, I have 10 seconds to justify my existence.” The race for him is everything. It’s his reason for being. Running well and winning justifies his existence. That’s Harold Abrams. What about you?

            Some try to justify their existence by being a great husband or wife or a good parent. Some try to justify their existence by having a successful career. Some try to justify their existence by carrying out big philanthropic projects that change the world. Some try to justify their existence by intense religious practice, trying to prove it to God that they’re faithful and true and doing all the right things. But what happens in life? The athlete justifying their existence by the race, by the contest, gets to a point where the body breaks down, they’re not winning anymore—what happens then? The wife justifying her existence by trying to keep her husband happy only to be ignored and her efforts unvalued—what happens then? The worker justifying his existence by career achievement receives word that his services will no longer be needed—what happens then? The religious adherent justifying her existence by saying all the prayers, doing all the steps, giving big offerings, devoting herself to good deeds and she still doesn’t get her prayers answered the way she wanted—what happens then? This always, always happens when we try to justify ourselves. It’s never enough. It’s never satisfying. We become older brothers, truly believing that we’ve worked hard, kept our noses clean, done things the right way, so doggone it, the Father owes me something. And Jesus says that’s what it looks like to be lost.

            There are two ways to be lost according to Jesus, two ways to be alienated from the Father’s heart. Way Number One is to be like the younger brother and be very bad. Go against conscience, break God’s Law, live it up. Way Number Two is to be like the older brother and be very good, so good that you justify yourself. So good that you say, look, I’ve done all the right things, Father. The deal is, I do for you, so you do for me. The least you can do is give me a goat.

            What’s the solution? If we’re lost, what’s the key to being found? The younger brother discovered it there among the pigs. It’s simple. Admit your lost-ness. If you can admit that by yourself you are lost, then you are ready for the Gospel. And the Gospel is that Jesus justifies your existence. You don’t have to justify your existence to God because He has already justified your existence in Jesus. The mission Jesus accomplished means that you are loved already! You don’t have to earn it, nor could you. God thought you were so valuable that he sent his Son to the cross to purchase you. You don’t have to make yourself more attractive to him, nor could you. This is the undeserved kindness of God. When you return to him sincerely admitting your lost-ness, out come the gifts. The fattened calf. The ring, the robe, the party in your honor. That’s what it means to have a new life. The Father runs to lost children who return to him.

            The biggest hurdle that “older brother” types have to overcome is they don’t think of themselves as lost. They’ve followed the rules, so they don’t see themselves as guilty, at least not  in an obvious, irresponsible younger brother way. So how do you know? How do you know if you fit the older brother profile? Let me suggest a few things. You might be an “older brother” if there is an undercurrent of resentment to your personality. It’s that spirit of the older brother saying, “I’ve never disobeyed you, and yet I’m getting the short end of the stick.” That’s one.

You might be an “older brother” if your life with God could be described as duty without beauty. Notice what the older brother says to the Father as he’s complaining outside the party tent. He says, “All these years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command.” The word that is rendered here as “served” really means the actions of a slave. The older brother is saying I’ve been slaving away for you, Father, and this is the thanks I get? Do you see that? There’s no talk of love here. There’s no talk of relationship between Father to son. The older brother says staying here and working for you has been a grind!

 If your relationship with God seems like a grind, like you are slaving away with nothing to show, chances are you tend toward older brother-ness; older brother syndrome. If your life with God is all duty and no beauty, watch out. Here’s the deal: Older brothers find their Father useful for things. People who admit their lost-ness find their Father not useful, but beautiful. If Jesus is your reason for being, you will find yourself thinking about Him and talking to Him and praising Him just because. Grace does that to a person.

If you’re sitting there thinking that maybe there’s more “older brother” in you than you’d like, there is hope. Look at the Father in the story. He doesn’t yell at the older brother, he pleads with him. He tries to lead his son to an understanding of grace. “Everything I have is yours,” he says. That’s the Father’s choice, and it’s not based on the hard work of the older brother.

            It’s as if the Father is saying, “My son, I know you’ve tried hard. But don’t you understand? We’re all lost.” Through this story Jesus is saying to you, look at me. Look at my cross. Look at the torment and suffering I experience there. You are so lost that nothing less than this can save you. And I willingly do it. I do it so that you can have peace and share grace. This gospel is the only force that can blast you out of older brother-ness. There are two ways to be lost. This is the way to be found.

When Disaster Strikes

Lately it seems that the news has been bringing us stories of one large-scale disaster after another. From Sandy Hook Elementary to severe weather wiping out communities on the East Coast to ongoing bloodshed in the Middle East, we can’t escape the avalanche of bad news.

A little closer to home, each new day brings word of personal disaster that people are experiencing. The unexpected death of a spouse or a parent. The implosion of a marriage or the loss of a job.

When disaster strikes, there is a predictable human reaction. We begin to ask questions. We want to know why something terrible happened. We can take that a step further and ask, “What did they do to deserve such a horrible experience?” And some people are more than willing to try to explain.

 In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, a prominent televangelist was quick to say that New Orleans deserved it because of their high degree of sinfulness. (“Where does that leave Las Vegas?” I wondered at the time.)

 In the case of Haiti, there have been similar conclusions drawn. “Voodoo is prominent in Haiti, therefore God zeroed in on them,” and so forth. The underlying message is “they had it coming” because “they” are way more sinful than “we” are.

That’s a nice, tidy theory. But is it true, according to Holy Scripture? Is that how we are supposed to interpret disaster when it strikes? Let’s take a look at the beginning of Luke chapter thirteen for answers.

Some people came to Jesus, reporting an ugly incident that had taken place in which Pontius Pilate apparently had some Galileans put to death. This was just an awful situation and extremely provocative politically. But see how Jesus gets to the heart of the matter? He discerned that this story was being reported to him so that he could affirm that ““those Galileans” had it coming” because “they” are way more sinful than “we” are, and then everyone could go on their way feeling better about themselves. Jesus meets that expectation head-on and says: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” To reinforce his point, Jesus brings up His own disaster story; a quick account of a tower falling on eighteen people and killing them. Then he asks: “do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”

Jesus first refutes the theory that “they had it coming,” and then turns the entire discussion around so that it’s directed at you and me. He’s not interested in getting into a discussion of “why do bad things happen.” He’s interested in where you are at spiritually. He knows that we get hung up on the wrong questions, so he cuts through all that and asks the right ones. The ones that matters most. Are you ready to have a change of mind and heart? Are you ready to turn around? Are you ready to go in God’s direction, confessing your deep need for forgiveness? What is it’s you that the tower falls on? What if it’s you that’s crushed in the earthquake? What is it’s you who has a massive heart attack and dies before they hit the ground? Are you ready for what comes next?

The person who is ready and well prepared is the person who knows that their sin ought to exclude them from heaven. The person who is ready has realized that there is only one hope; one path; one key that opens heaven’s door; and that is the Son of God, Jesus Christ, put to death for the price of our sin and raised to life to lift us into heaven. Our Lord Jesus knows that we procrastinate and put it off and would do just about anything to avoid thinking about our own mortality. Yet it is absolutely necessary. So he sidesteps the perplexing theological questions about the existence of evil and “why does God permit such things to happen” and says, straight up, what really matters is whether or not YOU truly know your need for God. What really matters is whether or not YOU believe in His Son’s sacrifice and risen life. If you reject God’s mercy, you will inevitably die, but that’s just the beginning. What comes next is a living nightmare, an existence where access to a loving God is no longer possible, and things like forgiveness and kindness are forgotten.

But that’s not what God wants for his creation. That’s why He placed the punishment for sin on His Son. It had to fall on someone, so God had it fall on Jesus instead of you and me. With that awful price paid for, God invites you leave sinful ways behind and to receive the gift of forgiveness. He invites you to change your mind about your old ways and to live in a whole new way. His Holy Spirit is at work at this very moment to guide you to Jesus, that you would trust Him and Him alone for a never-ending life with God. A person who is gifted with this faith is a person who can withstand disaster when it comes. Because of Jesus they can live with urgency, yet without fear.

There is a Japanese movie that I love called “Ikiru.” The story is simple; a man who has a desk job in the local government goes through the same lifeless routine day after day until he learns he has stomach cancer. After absorbing the shock of this news, and after trying the “eat, drink, and be merry” approach to life and finding it empty, he latches onto a purpose that gives the rest of his days meaning. He decides to push a project through the system—the building of a children’s playground—and he goes after this project with great urgency because time is obviously running out. He also goes after it without fear. He realizes this when the local Japanese mobsters try to prevent him from building the playground. They threaten him with death, and you see this look of awareness cross the man’s face—their greatest weapon means nothing. Threatening to kill someone’s who is terminally ill is not going to scare them very much. Incidentally, the title, “Ikiru,” is a Japanese word meaning “to live.”

If you return to God and believe the good news about His Son Jesus, then you know what it really means to live. You will live with urgency, picking up the mission God has given you to complete, because no tomorrow is guaranteed. You will live without fear, because you trust that Jesus—who defeated death and came out of the grave—will be with you in this life and the next. And you will live through times of both delight and disaster with confidence that every heartbeat brings you that much closer to the endless, joyous Day of Heaven, thanks to Jesus Christ our Lord.