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DonateNovember 20, 2005 |
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Ezekiel 34:11-16,
20-24
Psalm 100
Ephesians 1:15-23
Matthew 25:31-46
The readings of the previous Sundays have been leading up to today’s celebration of the ultimate victory of God’s transformative power. Known in many churches as Christ the King Sunday, this last Sunday of the church year proclaims the triumph of self-giving love over evil. Royal images abound in these lessons, but the picture that emerges is one of a cosmic shepherd-king, unlike any earthly sovereign. In the self-sacrificing love of the shepherd-king, the hope of redemption has been met; justice and mercy rule.
Ezekiel 34:11-16,
20-24
The present oracle
is one of Ezekiel’s more hopeful, less damning prophecies. Here he
presents God as taking over the task of shepherding God’s people from a
string of bad shepherds, the religious and political leaders of Judah.
God promises to reunite his scattered flock and reverse the injustices
it has suffered.
Like the image in Zephaniah in last week’s lection, God is portrayed as an energetic figure, relentlessly searching for his own. It is a picture of an active, involved, and concerned God who cannot be indifferent to the plight of his people. Ezekiel casts God as The Good Shepherd, the exemplification of a loving servant leader.
The prophecy foreshadows much of the imagery associated with Jesus as the Good Shepherd, and parishioners will easily make this connection. There are resonances with Psalm 23 in this reading (“I will make them lie down” v 15) as well as with Jesus’ inaugural sermon in Luke (compare Ezekiel 34:16 with Luke 4:18-19 which quotes Isaiah). Without much difficulty they will see the correlation between Jesus and the "one shepherd, my servant David" (v 23). This scripture offers comfort through the promise of redemption.
The last four verses of the selection, however, offer no comfort to those who have benefited from, and even contributed to, an unjust society. Those who are apathetic toward their marginalized and afflicted neighbors are assured that their choices have consequences. The oracle ends with a warning against indifference to the needs of others.
Most of us will identify with the lost, the strayed, the injured, and the weak sheep. How we yearn to receive the ministrations of a gentle and merciful pastor! The preacher will be challenged to persuade the congregation to put itself in the role of the shepherd. The reversal of injustice, indeed the redemption of all creation, depends on how each of us shapes ourselves moment to moment. Redemption becomes an active, creative state of mind. (This understanding of our personal role in redemption is more pointedly developed in today’s gospel reading, following.)
It will be even more challenging to get the church to identify itself with the fat sheep of verse 20. It may be helpful to look at institutional injustice instead of individual situations. (A contemporary prayer of confession reads, "We repent … of the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf.") The preacher may want to explore the ways in which our personal choices shape our institutions.
Psalm 100
Today's selection
is not identified as one of the royal psalms per se, but its
proximity to the enthronement collection (Psalms 96 through 99) and some
of its language point to a regal theme. “Come into his presence” evokes
the image of a subject entering the throne room. The psalm’s inclusion
in the lectionary for Christ the King Sunday augments the royal theme
running through the lessons.
Known as the Jubilate Deo, Psalm 100 is one of the most recognized of all the psalms. Chiefly as an invitation to worship, it is used in many traditions, notably as the invitatory in Anglican Morning Prayer or as a choral introit in Protestant worship. The most popular metrical setting of Psalm 100, "All people that on earth do dwell," was originally set to a tune by Calvin's music director, Louis Bourgeois, a tune which bears the name Old 100th. (Most parishioners recognize Old 100th as the tune of "the Doxology," itself the metrical setting for another psalm, Psalm 117.)
The wording suggests a liturgical use, much like an entrance hymn or a call to worship: "worship the Lord" (v 2), "enter his gates … and his courts" (v 4). But the invitation is not just to the worshiping community; it is to "all the earth" (v 1). The Lord depicted in this psalm is a cosmic sovereign, the ruler of the universe, and, in line with the images of Ezekiel and Matthew, a shepherd-king: "We are … the sheep of his pasture" (v 3b). Unlike that of a straightforward monarch of a particular people, the cosmic shepherd-king’s rule is one of goodness and mercy; it is universal and it is eternal.
The core message of the psalm can be found in verse 2: created by God, we belong to God. It makes the point emphatically that God is God and we are not. Almost lost among the praise and jubilation, this somber note puts the God-creature relationship in perspective. God unceasingly leads (lures) all of creation into a better place which it cannot find by itself. We do not create the possibilities, we choose among them.
Ephesians 1:15-23
Consistent with
today’s emphasis on cosmic sovereignty, the selection from Ephesians
depicts an ascended and exalted Christ sitting at the right hand of God
“with all things under his feet” (v 22). It appears within the
thanksgiving portion of the letter where it ties the transformative
power of God as it works in the believer to the transformative power of
God that worked in the resurrection, ascension, and exaltation of
Christ. The power that transformed Christ is the same power that
transforms (resurrects) the faithful.
The passage sets an apocalyptic scene that illustrates the eternal victory of God's power. God has placed Christ "far above all rule and authority and power and dominion . . . not only in this age but also in the age to come" (v 21). It is the ultimate triumph of the power of God to evoke a cosmic worship. Christ the King represents the initial aim of God in its fullest fruition. It offers the believer both faith in the possibilities of the present moment and the hope that future events will shape themselves in accordance with the initial aim.
One can see in this passage the reciprocal nature of God and creation in the act of co-creating. It is God who offers “a spirit of wisdom and revelation” (v 12) to those who open themselves to God’s influence. It is God who lures creation to ever-enriching intensity: “the hope to which he has called you . . . the riches of his glorious inheritance . . . the immeasurable greatness of his power” (vv 18, 19). It is creation that must “come to know [God]” (v 17c) and act according to that knowledge in order to enable the greatest and most complex fulfillment of the creative enterprise.
So often these images of “Christ in Heaven at the end of time” misdirect the faithful to think of God as either distant in time or distant in space, or both. Just as the image of God as a shepherd can be helpful when understood metaphorically, so it is with the image of Christ the King and Judge. The preacher is challenged to bring the immediacy and immanence of God into the conversation. Is judgment truly an eventual occasion or does it happen now? Is the triumph over evil an “all at once” event or does it evolve and develop, one choice at a time? To what degree are we personal participants in bringing about the Kingdom of God? How do we contribute to judging ourselves?
Matthew 25:31-46
The present gospel
passage is the last word we receive from Matthew in this church year. It
contains the briefest and the last parable of Jesus that Matthew relates
(the sheep and the goats), and it brings to a close the Judgment
Discourse in the First Gospel. Matthew has constructed the discourse to
culminate in this reading, and the framers of the lectionary mirrored
that shape in the selections of the last few weeks. Unlike other
portrayals of the Last Judgment, however, the Matthean version makes
pastoral care the decisive difference that separates the good from the
bad. We are handed an image of triumph and judgment within which we
confront our very identities as humans and disciples.
Preaching justice is at the heart of the gospel, and preachers often use today’s selection as a springboard for doing just that. Framed in this vignette of judgment, the substance of justice is clearly defined: to minister to even one of the least in a society is to practice justice. Hunger, homelessness, destitution, disease, and all the other ills of an unjust society cannot be tolerated by those who look to the creative conversion of reality. It is not enough to profess a faith in Christ (“Not everyone who says, “Lord, Lord” will enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 7:21); rather, it is meeting and ministering to the incognito Christ that opens the doors to transformation.
A nuance of the text that the preacher may wish to highlight is the surprise sprung on both the righteous and the accursed. When practicing justice, or choosing not to do so, neither group was aware that it was doing anything more important than making a choice in the moment. Both groups seem to have responded to “the least” almost as a reflex. Call it a world view or a lifestyle, the righteous of this discourse had developed habits of compassion and kindness while the accursed practiced inhumanity and indifference. Both were surprised to discover the import of their decisions.
We might ask ourselves if our actions would be any different if we knew Christ was the one standing before us instead of some derelict. If we truly decide to seek and serve Christ in all others, how does that decision shape us? Recognizing the hidden Christ is a powerful lure to love. Note, too, that in this judgment scenario it is not just the Christian who is counted among the righteous. Those who do not know Christ but minister to the least of society are welcomed into the kingdom based on their love, if not on their faith.
Ultimately, it is a matter of identification and allegiance, topics especially apt for Christ the King Sunday. To whom or what are we committed? Naming our personal sovereign forms our choices, our behavior, and our identity. Since few parishioners will have had first-hand experience with a monarchy, other more relevant examples could be drawn. Consider the fervor of a sports fan. At this time of year when so many football rivalries are raging, many in the congregation will get the point. Allegiance to one’s team can lead to face and body painting, wearing strange headgear (cheese wedges, longhorns, stadium replicas), and behaving with a passion normally not displayed in the rest of one’s life. That’s powerful. That’s transformative.
The Rev. Gretchen
Weller is the rector of St. Bartholomew Church, Mayfield Village, Ohio.
She may be reached at:
rector@saintbartohio.com
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