Jesus
was obsessed with one thing: the Kingdom of God.
We
have made a lot of things out of Jesus.
But
Jesus cared whole-heartedly and single-mindedly
about one thing – the Kingdom of God.
He
saw his teaching and his works of healing and mercy
as the crucial first step of God’s
reign breaking into the world.
If
we are going to believe Jesus, there are two ideas we have
to get out of our heads right now.
Both
area ideas you’ll hear a lot of people say are Christian teaching.
But
they aren’t.
The
first is that everything is already going
according to God’s plan. It isn’t.
If
everything were already clipping along on God’s agenda,
then God wouldn’t have been so upset
about things
so much in the Bible.
If
everything were already going God’s way,
we wouldn’t have needed Jesus turning
over the apple cart.
If
everything were going God’s way,
we would not be suffering in hope that
Christ will come
and change everything from
night to day.
The
second idea is that the Kingdom of God
doesn’t happen until sometime way out
in the future.
True,
the Kingdom will not be here fully until the end of history.
But
it happens in flashes right now.
Our
job is opening the door to the Kingdom now.
So
let’s be clear: Jesus was not here to show us
why the way of the world is already
just fine thank you.
He
was here to start a revolution to usher in God’s Kingdom.
Only
it wasn’t a revolution like we thing of.
It
wasn’t one violent power over throwing another violent power.
That
just replaces one gang of thugs with another.
Jesus’
revolution that could only be achieved
by revolutionary methods --
methods
like behaving in surprising ways,
responding to cruelty with forgiveness,
seeing giving as better than receiving,
living for others instead of self.
If
one person goes genuinely Christian, just one person,
it makes a little difference in the
world.
If
two people who don’t know each other go Christian,
it makes twice as much difference.
But
if those two people come together
-- as we do in Holy Communion --
the power multiplies many fold.
You
get a dozen of them
and they can go forth into the world
making disciples of all nations.
The
deaf hear, the blind see, the lame walk,
and peace breaks out between old foes.
Our
lesson for the Feast of Christ the King
is about the Kingdom of God.
This
story tells us what God loves
so it will be part and parcel of his kingdom in
eternity,
and
also what God does not love so it will have no part in eternity.
It
dies.
You
know the story.
Those
who feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger,
and visit the imprisoned are the ones
living in God’s way
regardless
of their theology or church membership
or lack thereof.
Those
who ignore people in need
have no part in God’s Kingdom
even if they are right believing church members.
Very
simple.
But
would these simple acts of mercy make a real difference?
Yes,
it’s nice. But does it change the world?
Consider
this story from Naomi Shihab Nye,
a Palestinian-American woman at the airport in Albuquerque.
This
is her story:
“Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal,
after learning my flight had been
delayed four hours,
I heard an
announcement:
‘If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands . . . Arabic,
please come to the gate immediately.’
Well— one pauses these days.
Gate A-4 was my own gate.
I went there.
An older woman in full traditional
Palestinian embroidered dress,
just like my
grandma wore,
was crumpled to the floor, wailing.
‘Help,’ said the flight agent. ‘Talk
to her . . . .
We told her the flight was going to
be late and she did this.’
I stooped to put my arm around the
woman and spoke haltingly.
“Shu-dow-a, shu-bid-uck, habibti?
Stani schway, min fadlick,
shu-bit-se-wee?’
The minute she heard . . . words she
knew, . . . . , she stopped crying.
She thought the flight had been
cancelled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for major
medical treatment the next day.
I said, ‘No, . . . you’ll get there,
just late,
who is picking you
up?
Let’s call him.’
We called her son . . . .
I told him I would stay with his
mother till we got on the plane.
She talked to him.
Then we called her other sons just
for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she
spoke for a while in Arabic
and . . . of course
they had . . . shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of
it
why not call some
Palestinian poets I know
and let them chat
with her?
This all took up two hours.
She was laughing . . . by then.
Telling about her life, patting my
knee, answering questions.
She . . . pulled a sack of homemade
mamool cookies
—
little
powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates
and nuts— from her
bag and was offering them to all the women
at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single
traveler declined one.
It was like a sacrament. //
The traveler from Argentina,
the mom from
California,
the lovely woman
from Laredo
—
we were
all covered with the same powdered sugar.
And smiling. There is no better
cookie.
Then the airline broke out free apple
juice
and two little girls from our flight
ran around serving it
and they were covered with powdered
sugar too. . . . .
I looked around that gate of late and
weary ones and thought,
‘This is the world
I want to live in.’
The shared world.’
Not a single person in that gate . .
.
seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies.” End of story.
And that brothers and sisters is the
world I want to live in too
-- the Kingdom of God.
Already it happens.
Do you not perceive it?
The Kingdom of God comes very near to
us.
Sometimes, with God’s help, we make
it happen.
