november 25, 2018

LAST sunday of pentecost

Revelation 1:4-8 & John 18:33-37

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I was so excited to get to preach on these passages today, because the concept of the “Kingdom” is one of my favorite ideas in Christian theology. I think that’s because of my Jewish roots - it always strikes me as a very Jewish concept, or at least very visible through a Jewish lens. So I hope that, as we are about a week out from the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah, you’ll permit me to get pretty Jewish in this sermon.

A Kingdom is, in many ways, about a King - but it’s also about everyone else. A Kingdom is nothing without subjects, citizens, those who live in and belong to that Kingdom. Two weeks ago, we in America held an election, and many of us see voting and participating in American democracy as a privilege, a marker, and an obligation of our belonging to this nation - I won’t call it a Kingdom. So if Jesus is King, then that means there’s a Kingdom, and that means there’s something we as Christians similarly belong to and participate in. 

How does a Jewish lens help us understand this? Something pretty integral to the Jewish experience and identity is this notion of “dual citizenship” in God’s Kingdom - that no matter what else you are, an American, a Californian, a Stanford Cardinal, a Dodge - you’re also a member of the Jewish nation, belonging to this ancient and global tribe of people. To be Jewish means that, no matter where you are, you are always something of a foreigner, a wanderer - but you are also forever and everywhere a citizen, because the Kingdom you belong to is eternal, supernatural, and Divine. Your belonging goes with you as surely as God’s presence.

And it’s not just Judaism that carries this concept of a Kingdom that transcends earthly borders and nations. Jesus - himself a Jew - brings all of his followers under this banner, Jew and Gentile alike, and establishes his dominion as a Kingdom of love, grace, and Divinity. He welcomes us all as citizens with full privileges and responsibility. The Kingdom is here, now - present for us to belong to and participate in. Today’s reading tells us that the ruler of this Kingdom “loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom,” - not only are we citizens, but we are “priests serving his God and Father.”

But this Kingdom isn’t the one that we just cast ballots for, it’s not listed on our passports. Jesus draws a distinction between his Kingdom and Pilate’s “nation,” explaining that his Kingdom is “not of this world.” It’s hard to imagine myself as simultaneously a citizen of this world - of California, of America, of St. Mark’s church, of the company where I work - and a citizen of the Kingdom. It’s tempting to get an image of “one foot in one world, one foot in another,” like I’m divided somehow. But that’s a dangerous image, getting us into “serving two masters” territory, and it leaves us feeling lost and divided. In reality, our citizenship of God’s Kingdom is not in conflict with the rest of ourselves - it’s full, complete, simultaneous belonging.

This is another very Jewish idea - that “paradise,” or “heaven,” or “the Kingdom of God” is not a separate place that we go to after certain things happen - but it’s a possibility, something hovering within the boundaries of our current world. We don’t wait to go from here to there - we bring the “there” to “here,” in our words and deeds and love and relationships. We are, quite literally, agents of the Kingdom. 

When I think about the vision of the Kingdom in the Gospels, I think about all the space that the world is made of. Particle physics tells us that atoms are mostly space, and what we think of as matter - the stuff our bodies are made of, and the stuff we touch and see every day - isn’t as solid as it seems. It’s all a bunch of little particles suspended in open, expansive space. That, in my imagination, is where the Kingdom lives, or at least where we have room for the Kingdom. The physical structure of our world and our bodies explains how we’re able to live as earthly, bodied beings, belonging to this world, citizens of this messy nation, while also belonging to God’s Kingdom and living in allegiance with Christ’s vision for His realm.

The Kingdom is not a place; it’s not a customs office stamping passports; it’s not a castle with a throne. It’s us - it’s in our hearts and our actions. Christianity asks us to be “Kingdom builders,” a phrase and a concept I carry with me every day: what can I do to build the Kingdom, to make Christ’s Sovereignty manifest here, now? Judaism has a very similar concept called tikkun olam, which translates to “repairing the world” - bringing forth God’s vision of healing and wholeness and grace into our current existence.

I wanted to share a quote with you, but when I looked up the source, I found the most Jewish mess - it’s a Jewish ethical text where one Rabbi is paraphrasing another Rabbi quoting the Talmud which is paraphrasing the Torah - so I won’t bother with the attribution. Anyway, the quote is as follows: "Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

That, to me, is the Kingdom. The Kingdom is not static - it is manifested wherever, whenever, someone acts as its agent. It’s not complete, it’s an active, dynamic work in progress. The Kingdom is a vision for how the world could be, a way of living, of existing, a separate reality that calls to us. Come, march under our banner. Come, be a beloved citizen. Come, be a priest, join your voices with the mighty roar of the oceans. The Kingdom is here - now. Do not be daunted, for the Lord has made our world so sure that it cannot be moved.