Sermon for Reign of Christ Sunday, "Subjects, Fans, Followers," Luke 23:33-43, John 6:24-35

Sermon 11/1/19

Luke 23:33-43, John 6:24-35

Subjects, Fans, Followers

Today is the last Sunday of the church year. The church calendar - as in the church universal - begins a new year on the First Sunday of Advent, which is next week. Today, on the last Sunday of the church year, two special days are asking for our attention. First, it is Thanksgiving Sunday. Now, technically, that’s not a liturgical day - it’s not a specially marked day on the Church calendar. After all, it is only Thanksgiving in the United States this week, not around the world. But, of course, giving thanks is something we should excel at as people of faith, and certainly we know where to direct our thanks as worshipers. We give thanks to God, source of all our blessings. 

Today is also Reign of Christ or Christ the King Sunday. It’s not a well-known day on the church calendar, and sometimes with Thanksgiving and the start of Advent, it is easy to let it get squashed out altogether. But it deserves our attention, because I think reign of Christ Sunday asks us to wrestle with some challenging questions. On this day we ask, “What does it mean that we call Jesus a King? What does it mean that we talk about Jesus as a ruler? How is Jesus like earthly kings, and how does he break the mold? What does it mean that in scripture and in Christian tradition you can find images of Jesus on a throne, in the judgment seat, with a crown? How is Jesus the ruler of of our lives? Is he the ruler or a ruler in our lives?” These are questions we wrestle with on this day in the church year, and maybe they don’t strike you at first as questions that are on  your mind all the time, but I think in actuality the way we view Jesus, the role we put him in, the authority we give to him impacts our lives as Christians a great deal.  

Originally I was going to title this sermon, “Who do you say that I am?” You might recognize that as a question that Jesus asks his disciples in the gospels, though not in our readings for today. In the gospels, Jesus had been hearing rumors that some of those who knew of the works of Jeus were saying he was the prophet Elijah, come again, as many believed Elijah would return some day, and others thought he was John the Baptist, and Jesus asks his disciples to give a report on what they’ve heard. And then Jesus asks the disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter responds boldly and clearly: Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed one of God. It’s a title that had, till then, indicated a king. Kings were anointed. Of course, Jesus hasn’t done much that lines him up with the kings that have preceded him, so it is all the more meaningful that Peter gives him this title.   

I wonder what kind of ruler we’re looking for Jesus to be in our lives, if in fact we are looking for a ruler. Do we want mighty warrior Jesus, who comes in to crush our enemies? Or are we ready to think about what kind of king, what kind of ruler, leader, savior, ends up executed, hanging on a cross alongside criminals, daring to suggest that we follow him? 

But eventually I realized that the question nagging at me is not exactly who we say Jesus is, but instead it is who we want to be and who we are to be to Jesus because of who he is. I think one way or another, we might agree to call Jesus a king, a ruler, a prince of peace, the messiah - whatever label resonates. But what does that mean for us and our lives as those who call on his name? I think we’d call ourselves disciples. We want to be disciples, followers of Jesus. But are we? If Jesus is the authority in our lives, do our lives show evidence of that? Who do our lives say that Jesus is, beyond what our lips say?  

As I read our gospel texts for today, I came up with a few possible answers: subjects, fans, and followers. Sometimes, I think we just want to be fans of Jesus. Think about who or what you’re a fan of. I’m a big fan of Tracy Chapman (She’s a folk singer, and even if you don’t know her, you probably know a few of her songs without knowing she wrote them.) - she’s my favorite musician. And my favorite movie star is Viggo Mortensen (he was in the Lord of the Rings movies)  - I think he’s an excellent actor. I can tell you a bit about each of them. I have most of Tracy Chapman’s albums. I’ve seen most of Viggo Mortensen’s movies. I’ve read articles about them. I can tell you about awards Tracy Chapman has won. I can tell you about Viggo’s visits to his hometown Watertown, NY. But as much as I enjoy their work, beyond impacting what I watch, what I listen to - I can’t really say that my life has changed significantly because of being a fan. Their talents brings me joy, but I don’t have to adopt anything about the way they live to be even an avid, devoted fan. Because even if I’m their best fan, they have no authority over me. They don’t rule my life. They’re not my leader. I don’t put their hopes and vision above my own or any other vision that I find compelling.  

Sometimes, we call Jesus Messiah or King or Ruler, but we’re really just his fans. Our text from John today is actually the text assigned for Thanksgiving. Just before our reading begins is the story we know as the feeding of the 5000. John tells us that the crowds are following Jesus because of the healing Jesus had been doing. When the crowds arrive, Jesus insists on feeding them all. Starting with a little fish and bread, Jesus manages to feed everyone of the 5000+ gathered and still have leftovers. After they eat, people think about the signs Jesus has done, and they call him a prophet, and what’s more, John tells us that Jesus realizes they want to take him and make him king by force. A man who can feed crowds from practically nothing? They want this man to be in charge. This, of course, is not Jesus’ path, and he and the disciples head out on the boat to cross the sea. But, as today’s text tells us, the crowds simply follow Jesus across the water and find him again. Jesus tells them that he knows they’ve come after him because he fed them all, not for any deeper reason. They ask for signs that Jesus is someone they should believe in. When Jesus talks about bread from heaven, they want some. Jesus tells them he is the bread of heaven. Their conversation goes on long after today’s text ends, and once it is over, many of the crowd stop following Jesus, unhappy with what he has to say. I think they were fans, not followers. It’s like the crowd was coming for a good performance. The Jesus show was in town, and he dazzled, even providing an excellent meal. But when Jesus started talking about his will and God’s will and sharing in his very flesh, sharing in his body, they were out. Jesus seemed to expect something of them, more than they wanted to give. Fans, not followers. 

Sometimes, I think we want to be subjects, like in an earthly kingdom, where a clear authority tells us what to do. We’re not responsible - the king is responsible, and in charge. The ruler has to fix things, and sure, we can complain when they do a bad job, but we still don’t want to be the ones in charge. We’re helpless, and maybe resent feeling helpless, but we’re happy to blame the ruler for what goes wrong. 

Our second gospel lesson, this one from Luke, brings us to the scene of the crucifixion. Notice the inscription over Jesus’ head, the reason for his death sentence: “This is the King of the Jews.” The words are meant to be mocking, because everyone knew that no king would be hanging on a cross. Crucifixion was for criminals, for the lowly, for the weak. And listen to the words folks are saying in this passage: “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah, the anointed one of God.” “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself, and save us!” Everyone there seems to have a clear understanding of what a king should be, and Jesus is not living up to expectations. A king could save himself. A king would have power, enough power to get himself out of such a mess. A king could save himself and those with him too while he was at it. A king would put himself first, for sure. And when Jesus fails to be this kind of ruler, but won’t just go away quietly, it seems the only remaining option is to silence him through death. Sometimes we just want to be subjects, following a Jesus who is powerful enough to not call on us to do anything. If Jesus is King, can’t he figure it all out? Fix everything for us? Put everyone else in their places and save us from our troubles while he’s at it? But a ruler who wants us to be part of the work? To serve alongside? What kind of ruler is that? 

But of course, Jesus reigns not from a throne, but from the cross. Jesus is born not in a palace, but among animals. Jesus spends his time not in the halls of power, but on the margins, with the people. Jesus reigns. His authority repeatedly dazzles even those who wish they couldn’t see it in him. We see it too, or we wouldn’t be here. But the question is the one we asked at the start. What will we do about it? If Jesus reigns in our lives, how do we show it? We live not as subjects, not as fans, but as disciples, followers. Followers change their lives to go where their leader goes, to live like their leader lives. One of my ministry colleagues at a meeting yesterday said that we’re apprentices to a Master Teacher, the Expert, and our task as students, as learners, is to so carefully work as the Teacher has taught us that our work becomes indistinguishable from the Teacher’s. Jesus reigns, and does it by sharing power, inviting us to do everything he does. Nothing would please him more than if we were just like him. 

Jesus isn’t really very excited about fans. They fall away when things get challenging. And he loves us too much to make us helpless subjects. But followers? Disciples? Jesus has a lot to teach some willing students. Come, let’s follow. Amen.   

Sermon for Reign of Christ/Christ the King Sunday, Year C, "Jesus, Remember Me," Luke 23:33-43

Sermon 11/20/16

Luke 23:33-43

Jesus, Remember Me

Singing: Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. (488)

Today is the last Sunday of the Christian Year, which is also known as Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday. How many of you know what Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday is? It’s not one of our major holy days. In fact, often, Christ the King Sunday gets a bit neglected, because most years, it falls on Thanksgiving Sunday, which isn’t technically even part of the liturgical calendar, but usually takes precedence for Christians in the United States. If we have to choose between Thanksgiving as a focus in worship and focusing on “Christ the King,” we usually choose Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving is important, and indeed, that’s the direction I had planned to go today. But as I was preparing for worship this week, I just felt drawn to the themes that come with this Reign of Christ Sunday. I was thinking about what my Uncle Bill said at the end of his sermon last week, when he was reflecting on the election. He said that whatever happens, our call as the church of Christ is unchanged. Our allegiance is to God, and Jesus asks for our obedience. With those themes in mind, we come to this Christ the King Sunday.

It’s a relatively new addition to the Christian calendar actually. In 1925, Pope Pius XI announced a new feast day, the Feast of Christ the King. He said that he felt that the rise of atheistic communism and secularism were a direct result of people turning away from Jesus’ sovereignty, and of people denying the authority of Jesus and the Church. So, this Reign of Christ Sunday is about reclaiming Jesus’ place of authority in our lives. But what does that mean for us?

I think it is a particularly interesting and challenging question in our American context. After all, as a nation, we rebelled against having a king. No longer wanting to be under the absolute authority of a monarchy but desiring instead to participate in a democracy was a primary component of our founding. We fought wars over it, this right not to be ruled by a king. Sure, maybe lately, with the stylish, young, and admirable William and Catherine marrying, and the birth of their children, people are suddenly a little more intrigued by the idea of royalty. But mostly, we seem, as a society, to be more into Disney princesses and their costumes than in submitting to the authority of a king.

Still, we all have to submit to forms of authority, right? Even if we don’t have a king, governments still exert authority over us. We pay taxes, right? We follow laws, or are punished or fined for our failure to follow. And we have authority figures in many other places too. We have bosses – or bishops! We have teachers and principals. We have parents and grandparents. All these people might be in positions of power over us, at least in some matters, able to tell us what to do. They have power. They have authority. We can push the boundaries of that authority – can and do. We can reject it, but usually not without major consequences. And we have presidents, don’t we? And other elected officials. Clearly, given the build up to and the aftermath from our election earlier this month, we pin a lot of hopes on the leaders of our nation. So when we talk about Jesus as a King, when we celebrate this day – what does that mean to us? How do we, independent people, private, prizing our individualism and autonomy, let someone be our king? What does that mean, exactly?

Let’s take a look at our text: Although next week we suddenly find ourselves thinking about the coming Christ child, a tiny baby at the center of everything, today we are inserted abruptly into the midst of the crucifixion scene. Our reading today takes us to Golgotha, which means “the place of the skull.” Here, in Luke's account, the actual process of crucifying Jesus merits just a passing phrase: "they crucified Jesus there with the criminals." But the details come from those who watch Jesus dying: the religious leaders, the soldiers, and the two criminals with whom he is crucified. From most, there’s a repeated refrain: Why doesn’t Jesus save himself? “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, the chosen one!” from the leaders. “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” from the soldiers. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” from one of the criminals. Only from the other criminal do we hear anything different. He declares that the two criminals are only justly paying the price for their crimes but that Jesus "has done nothing wrong." He then asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom, and Jesus responds that truly that day the man will be with him in Paradise.

We have here a Jesus who seems most un-kingly. He's mocked, beaten, suffering, harassed, murdered. How is Jesus a King? The inscription that was placed above him – his sentence, the crime for which he was being crucified read, “This is the King of the Jews.” But it was meant as a mockery. A man being crucified with criminals was hardly a king. The sentence poked fun at Jesus, at his disciples and followers. But yet, we believe Jesus reigns. Why? How? How is Jesus king? I think it is about putting the emphasis in the right place. This Sunday is perhaps not about the fact that Jesus is King, but about the fact that Jesus is King. (1) This Sunday is not about the fact that one characteristic of Jesus is his Kingship, his divine royal status, one characteristic among many others. Instead, this Sunday celebrates the fact that it is Christ, Christ above all others, who is the highest authority in our lives. Not King Herod. Not Pilate. Not Caesar. And not President Obama or President-Elect Trump, nor Congress, nor the Supreme Court. Not the stock market. Not the dollar. Jesus is king.

So if we claim Jesus as our Ruler, what exactly does that mean? It means that we’re choosing a leader who rejects most everything one might traditionally associate with good leadership! David Lose writes, “Jesus, to put it [pointedly], would not have won last week’s election. But let me be clear: this is not a political statement as much as it is an existential one. We seek out those things and people who grant us a measure of security and who affirm our values. And, it turns out, when we are frightened or feeling particularly at risk or left behind, we may even accept someone who we profess decidedly does not reflect our values but who we believe will offer us security against our enemies abroad and prosperity at home. We vote for someone, that is, who promises a better tomorrow, and the candidates of both parties tried to offer themselves as the one who best fit that bill. Jesus doesn’t do that.”

We have a repeated phrase in our scripture passage today – Jesus, why don’t you save yourself? The religious leaders, the soldiers, the criminal – they all say it. Instead, Jesus saves us. We long to be safe and protected. Instead, Jesus demonstrates a risk-taking, vulnerable, literally life-giving way of being that saves us, all while refusing to save himself or promise us safety in exchange for our discipleship. Lose continues, “He refuses to come in power but instead appears in abject vulnerability … He does not come down off his cross to prove his kingly status but instead remains on that instrument of torture and humiliation, the representative of all who suffer unjustly. And he does not promise a better tomorrow but instead offers to redeem us today.” (2)

Claiming Jesus as our Ruler means aligning our values with his values, our priorities with his, our ways with his ways. Karoline Lewis writes, “First of all, in Jesus, we have a king who is crucified. Second, we have a king who forgives the very people who have secured his death. Third, we have a king who, while hanging on his cross, grants salvation to the criminal on the cross next to him … and fourth, we have a king who brings the condemned into Paradise with him rather than bring upon them further condemnation.” (3) Lose writes, “… While Jesus was not running for president, he does call leaders of all kinds – and, indeed, any who would call him “Lord” – to join God’s insistent, consistent, and persistent solidarity with the weak, the oppressed, and the forgotten of this world. In short, the church of Jesus Christ reveals itself as faithful to its Lord only in so far as it stands with those who are most vulnerable … God calls us not only to identify with the weak and dispossessed, but to lift our voices on their behalf, calling leaders to care for them as parents care for their children.” Is Jesus our Ruler? How are we working to make his ways our ways? How are we prioritizing the most vulnerable in the work of our church, the work of our community, the work of our lives?

Activist for the poor Shane Claiborne started a campaign during the 2008 election season, calling for “Jesus for President” as a way to call attention to God’s values, God’s call, God’s hope for our world. He wrote, “We may vote on [election day]. But we will also vote today, and tomorrow, and the next day. We are convinced that change is not confined to one day every four years. Change happens every day. We vote with our lives. And we are convinced that voting for a new President may be little more than damage control. For Presidents and Caesars do not save the world. But there is a God who can. Enough donkeys and elephants. Long live the Lamb.” (4)

Typically, the subjects of a king don’t get to decide whether or not they want to follow that person, have that person as their ruler. But God wants us to choose. God gives us the freedom to decide whether we will be disciples or not. But if we’re choosing Jesus, if it is Jesus who rules in our hearts and our lives, we should know who we’re voting for. Our leader is one who offers vulnerability and humility, not might makes right. Our leader is one who keeps company with the least and lost and last, rejecting offers of power and position and status. Our leader is one who will not save himself, but will instead offer his life for others, and ask us to do the same. Jesus is a Ruler like no other. Thanks be to God! Amen. 

Singing: Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. (488)

(1) Jenee Woodard, The Text This Week Weblog, http://textweek.blogs.com/textweek/

(2) David Lose, In the Meantime, http://www.davidlose.net/2016/11/christ-the-king-c-what-kind-of-king-do-you-want/

(3) Karoline Lewis, “Who and What Is Your King,” Dear Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=4754

(4) Shane Claiborne, http://www.relevantmagazine.com/current/politics/jesus-president-2012#mZoCIKKzycee93Fl.99

Sermon for Reign of Christ/Christ the King Sunday, "Beginning and Ending," Year C

Sermon 11/21/10

Luke 23:33-43

Beginning and Ending

I’ve almost always been a lectionary preacher – that is, I’ve usually chosen to preach from the texts assigned to a given Sunday as part of what is called the Revised Common Lectionary – four texts – a history text, a psalm or poetry text, an epistle lesson, a gospel lesson. These texts are used by many Christian church, so if you visited a Lutheran church or Episcopal or Catholic church today, you might well hear the same texts as we’ve read today. But it isn’t required – many pastors choose their own texts to use for preaching each week. I’m my years of ministry I’ve done this only very rarely. There are good arguments for either strategy, but for me, I feel like choosing my own texts is telling God what I’m going to say, and using the lectionary helps me be open to God speaking to me. Beyond that, I feel like the lectionary provides an ebb and flow, brings us so carefully and thoughtfully through the seasons of the church year.

Today is a perfect example. Today is the last Sunday of the year – the church year. Next Sunday, Advent begins, and that’s our Christian New Year. We start with waiting for Christ to come. But today, the end of the year, is a special Sunday. We celebrate Thanksgiving Sunday today, and I hope you will come on Wednesday night to celebrate Thanksgiving fully. But Thanksgiving isn’t actually in the liturgical calendar. Today, in the church year, we celebrate Reign of Christ, or Christ the King Sunday. And the texts in the lectionary for Reign of Christ always bring us right to the crucifixion of Christ. It’s jarring, and it is meant to be. We’re nowhere near Lent and Holy Week, when we expect this text. We’re waiting for the baby Jesus, not the crucified Christ. But the text drops us into the crucifixion scene and tells us to figure it out. Beginnings and endings get all mixed up, until we’re reminded that our beginnings are endings, and endings are always beginnings in God.

For me, this Sunday, Reign of Christ, is the perfect last Sunday before the beginning of Advent. Advent is a journey, and it is always wise, before you take a long journey, to look ahead to where you are ultimately going. Even if you have many stops and legs of travel and twists along the way, even if you take it piece by piece, it’s a good idea to know what you expect at the end. In Advent, we might think of Christmas as the end – but today reminds us that we celebrate Jesus’ birth because of who he becomes, and where he takes us. Today, we stop and ask - who is the Christ that we're about to celebrate? Who is this man - this god - this king - that we will spend the next month or more anticipating his birth?

Our reading today takes us to Golgotha, the place of the skull. Here, in Luke's account, the actual process of crucifying Jesus merits just a passing phrase: "they crucified Jesus there with the criminals." But the details come from those who watch Jesus dying: the religious leaders, the soldiers, and the two criminals with whom he is crucified. From most, there’s a repeated refrain: Why doesn’t Jesus save himself? “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, the chosen one!” from the leaders. “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” from the soldiers. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” from one of the criminals. Only from the other criminal do we hear anything different. He declares that the two criminals are only justly paying the price for their crimes but that Jesus "has done nothing wrong." He then asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom, and Jesus responds that truly that day the man will be with him in Paradise.

For our celebration of the Reign of Christ Sunday, for Christ the King Sunday, we have a Jesus who seems most un-kingly. He's mocked, beaten, suffering, harassed, murdered. How is Jesus a King? The inscription that was placed above him – his sentence, the crime for which he was being crucified read, “This is the King of the Jews.” But it was meant as a mockery. A man being crucified with criminals was hardly a king. The sentence poked fun at Jesus, at his disciples and followers. But yet, we believe Jesus reigns. So how is Jesus king? Well, today, for us, it is about putting the emphasis in the right place. So this Sunday is perhaps not about the fact that Jesus is King, but about the fact that Jesus is King. (1) Do you hear the difference? This Sunday is not about the fact that one characteristic of Jesus is his Kingship, his divine royal status, one characteristic among many others. Instead, this Sunday celebrates the fact that it is Christ who is supposed to be placed as King, or highest authority, in our lives. Jenee Woodard writes, "It keeps occurring to me that at this time, there WAS a King of the Jews - Herod - who may have been unpopular among Galileans and some others, but had done some pretty good business on behalf of Rome and Jerusalem . . . He was the "rightful" king. I hear, maybe, Pilate asking [Jesus at the trial], "You think that YOU are the king of the Jews? I KNOW the King of the Jews, and he's nothing like you!" as a reversal-[thing] - a deconstruction of kingship and power as understood in any then-contemporary terms." (1) Jesus is King.

Going back through the text, the interaction between Jesus and the two criminals especially catches my attention. We read that the first criminal "derides" Jesus, saying, "are not you the Messiah? Save yourself and us." The Greek word used here has an interesting connotation. This word we read as "deride" comes from a word that is also often translated as "to blaspheme," but means specifically, "to speak lightly of sacred things." What does it mean to speak lightly of sacred things? We don't know what else this criminal might have been saying to Jesus, but we know he says, "aren't you the Messiah? Why don't you save us and yourself then!" Are his questions, echoed by all the other in the passage, so strange? Are his questions of Jesus so unwarranted? Here, next to him, is the one some have been calling the Messiah, God's son, King of the Jews, as the inscription with the charge against Jesus reads. And yet, he is somehow speaking lightly of sacred things. He's missing the point, or ignoring it, not seeing or refusing to see the situation before him for what it really is.

We have that repeated phrase in this passage – Jesus, why don’t yourself? The religious leaders, the soldiers, the criminal – they all say it. And maybe we wonder. What does it mean to be saved? What would it have meant for Jesus to save himself? Would he save himself by calling down the angels to take him away from the suffering on the cross? Would he be saving himself if he claimed the charges against him were false, and just went back to Galilee? Imagine - Jesus was only in his thirties when he was put to death. Wouldn't it have been great if he could have taught for decades more, taught us more, set us straight and made sure we had it right before he was killed? But I imagine that even by avoiding death on the cross, even if he had escaped these charges, Jesus would not have been saving himself, but destroying himself. Jesus' constant message to anyone who would listen was to love God and love neighbor. He taught a way of peace that radically urged a complete change of lifestyle for those who truly wanted to be disciples. What would it mean, then, to abandon it all for his own personal safety? A true leader must walk the walk, and practice what he or she preaches. Jesus did just that.

            And then we have the second criminal. I'm not sure what he saw in Jesus, how we was able to recognize who Jesus was. We know, by his own admission, that he was not a perfect man. But he recognizes his faults, and Jesus' innocence. And he seems to know something about Jesus' identity, because he says, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." But Jesus response is even better than this man could have hoped. Jesus answers, "today you will be with me in paradise." Jesus, it seems, speaks of a present and right-now paradise that he can offer this man. Now, we know that Jesus’ resurrection isn’t until the third day, and that Jesus ascends to be with God much later on in our biblical accounts. So for Jesus to promise this immediate paradise, he must have something different in mind than we would usually consider. What would Jesus mean by offering paradise today? Jesus has been preaching about God's kingdom, God's reign, being at hand, already present. In his last interaction with this man, he confirms it - paradise is now - if we see it, usher it in. On a day like Thanksgiving Sunday, perhaps we are especially tuned to understanding Jesus' perspective. Paradise is for today.

The reign of Christ. Jesus is King. What does that mean for us?  What do we take away with us on this last Sunday in the Christian Year? First, foremost, we find grounding for our lives. It is Christ who is our king. Christ who is the foundation of our being. Christ the king. Christ who reigns. When we remember where our center is, who our center is, we aren't so easily distracted by the other things that want to claim our attention and allegiance. We know who we are and who leads us in the decisions we make, in the paths we choose, in the lives we live.

Second, we are reminded again about what it means to be saved. Our own salvation doesn't always mean our personal safety, or a place reserved for us in the clouds of heaven. Jesus' teachings were full of paradoxes, and so were his actions. Sometimes, he taught, the way to save your life was to lose it. And he did just that. Sometimes, to experience life, death is necessary. Sometimes, the only way to be saved is the hard way - by giving ourselves up. Perhaps we don't need to suffer the death that Christ suffered. But we can seek to live as Christ live, to do as he taught. The paradox is that by putting others first, by caring for our neighbors, by loving others, we save ourselves in the best way possible.

Third, we are reminded to be very careful when it comes to speaking lightly of the things we hold sacred. In the Advent season fast approaching, we'll be pressured day after day to make light of what we hold sacred, by letting the meaning of Christmas be obscured. We make light of the sacred whenever we let other things overrule the faithful celebration of Christmas. Be on guard - do not make light of sacred things. Don't water down your faith and our story for a cheaper imitation that will lose its luster by the time New Year rolls around.

And finally, take heart. We don't have to wait to experience the paradise that the second criminal asks Jesus about. Today, Jesus says. Today, we can enter paradise. Here-and-now, we can experience God's kingdom made present on earth, the good news made manifest among us. Rejoice, God is here, right now, in this very place. Rejoice, Christ is reigning over us. Jesus, remember us, when you come into your kingdom. Amen.

(1) Jenee Woodard, The Text This Week Weblog, http://textweek.blogs.com/textweek/