SERMON, NOVEMBER 21, 2021          CHRIST THE KING SUNDAY            TEXT: JOHN 18:33-38
          “Fun fact to know and share,”    my college friend Claudia would announce. Then she would tell us some intriguing tidbit gleaned from a lecture she had attended or harvested from her daily reading of The New York Times. Well, here are some fun facts to know and share that I discovered while preparing this week’s sermon. Did you know that the celebration of Christ the King Sunday is not even 100 years old? I confess, I didn’t, and I don’t know how I got through four years of seminary, four years of graduate school and 42 years of ordained ministry without finding this out somewhere along the way. Here is the history as laid out by a pre-eminent Lutheran liturgical scholar: 
          “Christ the King is not a festival of great antiquity . . . . In fact, it didn’t emerge until the twentieth century, and at first it had nothing to do with the end of the church year at all. Pope Pius XI established Christ the King Sunday in 1925 to counter what he regarded as the destructive forces of the modern world: secularism in the west and the rise of communism in Russia and fascism in Italy and Spain, harbingers of the Nazism soon to seize Germany. Pope Pius intended to oppose the rule of Christ to the totalitarian claims of these ideologies. By intention or coincidence, the festival of Christ the King also landed on the last Sunday in October, coinciding with the Protestant celebration of the Reformation.
          “In the reform of the Roman liturgy after the Second Vatican Council [the 1960’s], the festival of Christ the King moved to the last Sunday of the church year. Thus, it no longer served as a ‘Counter-Reformation Day’ celebration. But the new location proved to be more than an ecumenical gesture. Placed at the end of the church year, with its traditional eschatological emphasis, the festival now proclaimed Christ as ‘the goal of human history, the focal point of the desires of history and civilization, the center of humankind, the joy of all hearts, and the fulfillment of all aspirations,’ in short, a positive reconstruction of the festival’s original polemic against political ideologies. The three gospel readings — for the brand-new three-year lectionary — present Christ as the Son of Man coming in glory in year one, confronting the rulers of this world in year two, and reigning from the cross in year three.” Lutherans did not celebrate Christ the King until the late 1970’s with the adoption of the common lectionary and the introduction of the Lutheran Book of Worship [the LBW or green book].
          Today is the final Sunday of Year B, the second year of our shared lectionary, and the text from the Gospel of John presents Christ confronting the rulers of this world, specifically the Roman governor Pontius Pilate. But this encounter is the consequence of an earlier conflict. Jesus first falls victim to the political calculation of the religious leaders of his own people. After he raises Lazarus from the dead, they plot to kill him. John writes: So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, “What are we to do? The man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation” (John 11:47-48). Pharisees, priests and Pilate are all of one piece in their concern to maintain the balance of power and their respective places in it. For them Jesus is an unwelcome inconvenience and a growing threat. Ironically, we seem to be back where the festival of Christ the King began — facing off with tyranny and a first-century precursor of 20th-century fascism.
          The interrogation of Jesus would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic. Pilate plies him with questions: “Are you the King of the Jews?” “I am not a Jew, am I?” “What have you done?” “So you are a king?” “What is truth?” Jesus tells him, “My kingdom is not from this world,” and that is your world, Pilate. We breathe the same air, stand face-to-face on shared ground, speak a common language, and yet the world I know is not yours. And you can’t see beyond the limits of business as usual from your position of power and your hunger for dominance. “What is truth?” you ask. In the end for you there is no truth, only expedience.
          The lectionary uses the word “kingdom,” but the Greek can also be translated “kingship.” The former makes one think of a place, a heavenly, holy somewhere else that we will see in the future. But kingship reminds us that the reign of Jesus is here and now, not just hereafter. What matters is how he exercises his power among us while the reigning fools with their lies and threats, their sham justice and seductive hate, pretend to know better.
          My brother Ralph belongs to Augustana Lutheran Church on the southside of Chicago, near the Lutheran School of Theology. He recently attended the funeral of an emeritus professor from that institution, who was also a member of Augustana. The gentleman had six children, and at the time of the commendation they gathered around the urn containing their father’s ashes along with a number of other musically gifted members of the congregation, and sang the concluding chorale from Bach’s St. John Passion.
Ach Herr, lass dein lieb Engelein :: Ah Lord, let your dear angels                                      
Am letzten End die Seele mein :: at my final hour carry my soul
In Abrahams Schoß tragen . . . . :: to Abraham’s bosom . . . .
Then the pastor placed her hand upon the urn and entrusted their father to the Lord with these words: “Into your hands O merciful Savior, we commend your servant Edgar. Acknowledge we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace and into the glorious company of the saints in light.”
          My brother found himself weeping at this wonderful proclamation — Christ’s kingship exercised through mercy, his power safeguarding the life of both the dead and the living, sinners of his own redeeming, now and forever. For this he was born; for this he comes into the world.
In aller Freud, O Gottes Sohn, :: In all joy, O Son of God,
Mein Heiland und Genadenthron!  :: my savior and throne of mercy!
Herr Jesu Christ, erhöre mich, :: Lord Jesus Christ, hear me,
Ich will dich preisen ewiglich!	 :: I shall praise you eternally!
Amen.