“Reigning When it Rains”
Luke 23:33-43
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 25 November, 2007
Reign of Christ Sunday
Have you ever taken a close look at the United Church of Christ logo, pictured on the cover of this morning’s bulletin? We are familiar with the logo by now, the symbol of our denomination which we see emblazoned on various posters, mailings, the back of our bulletins, my business cards, and the pendant I’m wearing around my neck this morning. We see it and say, “Oh! That’s the symbol of the UCC!” ...But have you ever really looked at it?
There is a little UCC symbol on the back of the small print bulletins, but this morning you’ll notice a larger copy of the symbol inside your bulletin. Take a look at it. What do you see in that hodgepodge of symbols? There’s a cross there, right? That’s pretty obvious. The cross is the common symbol of our Christian faith. But what’s the rest of it?
At the bottom of the cross, there is some kind of circle, or orb. According to our denomination’s web site, “The orb, divided into three parts, reminds us of Jesus' command to be his ‘witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1:8). The verse from Scripture reflects our historic commitment to the restoration of unity among the separated churches of Jesus Christ.” In other words, the circle at the bottom of the cross symbolizes the globe, and is a reminder that we are to be witnesses to the gospel throughout the earth. Okay, that makes sense.
...What about that thing at the top of the UCC symbol? A crown?! At first glance, this symbol may not seem so strange to us. We Christians have become so familiar with the idea that Jesus is a king or Lord, that we almost take the image of a crown of glory for granted. “Christ the King?! Well, of course!”
Indeed, we refer to today, this last Sunday of the Christian year as “Christ the King” or “Reign of Christ” Sunday. We celebrate our “Lord” Jesus Christ, who will “reign forever.”
But think about it for a moment! Herein lies the paradox of our faith. Think: ...What is a crown doing at the top of a cross? Crucifixion was one of the most gruesome and horrifying execution methods used by the Romans. It was humiliating and extraordinarily painful -- one of the worst ways to die. In this morning’s gospel lesson, Jesus and his neighbors on the cross are seen talking normally to one another, but I wonder if such conversation would really be possible for three men nailed to trees and facing their very imminent death. Crucifixion was an abominable way to die. And yet, the cross, used for that execution method, has become a positive symbol of our faith. We wear jeweled crosses around our necks, we hang decorative crosses on our walls, we fill our churches with crosses simple or ornate. ...And, of course, we place a cross cheerily in the middle of our UCC logo.
So, how did the crown come to be placed atop the cross... and how did the cross come to be associated with the crown? This morning’s gospel lesson does not necessarily clear things up. Notice, for example, that in this scripture we read on “Reign of Christ” Sunday, it is Jesus’ executioners and one of his fellow “criminals” who call him “king” and “Messiah.” Jesus himself does not proclaim his kingship or role as Messiah in this scene, nor do Jesus’ followers. While later followers -- including those who wrote our New Testament -- ascribed the role of king, Lord, and Messiah to Jesus, it is his enemies who must name him thus first... albeit mockingly.
What kind of sense does this make? A cross and a crown?! Jesus never wore an earthly crown, despite the image of the nicely stylized crown we see atop our UCC logo and in many other Christian images. Why do we venerate him so? ... And why, just as we are preparing to begin the season of Advent, the season leading up to Jesus’ birth are we suddenly drawn back into Good Friday? Why the tragedy mixed with celebration?
This we should know. It is in the mixture of Good Friday and Easter, the contrast between the great highs and the enormous lows of Jesus’ incarnation, life, and death, that we see our own lives mirrored and that we are able to know God. We may not have been able to see God in a Christ whose life was entirely without suffering, because our own lives are not without suffering. In the same way, we would not have been able to see God in a Christ whose life was only suffering -- the death without the resurrection. Instead, we are able to see our own lives, and thus see God, in a Christ for whom the darkness of Good Friday is followed by the glory of Easter. We are able to find hope, and to proclaim that God really will reign forever, because we know that the execution that took place at “that place called the Skull,” in which a popular rabbi named Jesus was crucified, was not the end of it. The crown comes, and our own fear of death disintegrates, because we know that Jesus’ crucifixion was not without meaning, and it was not the end of the story.
The executioners, and that man on the cross beside Jesus, called Jesus “king” in order to mock him -- because they thought that an influential man such as he should be able to use the “powers” people had ascribed to him in order to save himself from the cross. But Jesus knew better. Saving himself from the cross would have only given him a few more years on this earth -- years that could have been used well to heal the sick and reach out to the poor, but which would only have been a few years. Instead, he chose to die. Not only was this an act of humility in response to God, his Parent; it also allowed his legacy to live on in the hearts of his followers... for more than two thousand years after his death. We say that he “reigns forever and ever,” because we know that he continues to live on within us.
Why the Good Friday glum when we’re just getting ready for Christmas? This, too, is a reminder of who Christ was and is to us. Take that crown, again, for example. Does the shape of the crown remind you of anything? Next week, as we begin the season of Advent, we will light an Advent wreath. If you look at the wreath closely, with its four candles and Christ candle, you may notice that the circle of the wreath looks a little like a crown. This is no accident. The Advent wreath was created to look like the crown of thorns Jesus wore at his crucifixion... and like the crown we place on him now, in our belief that the message he brought, that the Spirit of God, will take over our lives and thus will reign forever.
Remembering the crucifixion before we begin the joyous march to Christmas Day is symbolic of how mixed up life and death are, of how joy always has mixed with it a little sorrow, and vice versa. The Advent wreath that leads us to the manger with its gentle light, yet is also a crown of thorns and a royal headpiece, is a reminder that God is life and death for us. As we lift up Jesus’ reign in the remembrance of his death, let us remember the steps that we need to take. Remember the humility of the prisoner beside Jesus’, remember Jesus’ own hope in time of death... and remember, as they both did, to pray.
Now let us pray.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sermon 11/18/07 (Matthew 25:31-45)
“Gathered ‘Round the Table?”
Matthew 25:31-45
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 18 November, 2007
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Homelessness Awareness Sunday
 Every year for Thanksgiving my family would drive an hour to my cousins’ farm near Enderlin, North Dakota. When we arrived there would be lots of hugging, plenty of appetizers, and the authoritative voice of Aunt Emmy barking orders. Finally, an hour or two after dinner had been scheduled (this happened every year), we would gather around the table for the sumptuous feast. There was turkey with all the fixings, acorn squash, cranberries, potatoes, stuffing, vegetables, several different kinds of pie. We ate and talked and laughed and ate and talked and laughed some more. Rather than settle down in front of the TV to watch football after the big meal, we would sit around and talk. The children (myself included, when I was young) would play all sorts of imaginative games. We would revel in the warmth of extended family.
In North Dakota snow is a distinct possibility by Thanksgiving, so when we were finally ready to go home we would bundle up in our warm coats, hats, mittens, and boots, and shiver as we waited for the car to warm up.
During college, I was unable to go home to North Dakota for Thanksgiving, and I haven’t spent Thanksgiving there since Ben and I married, but I have always had a place to be and food to eat. There was the year a college roommate and I invited everyone on our college campus who was unable to go home for Thanksgiving. We cooked a full Thanksgiving dinner in our little dormitory kitchen and shared it with two Sri Lankans. There was the year I visited cousins in Connecticut. I spent Thanksgiving at a friend’s house in Philadelphia one year. After Ben and I married, we spent Thanksgiving with my cousins in Northern California. The past two years we have spent Thanksgiving with my cousins in Columbia, Maryland. This year we will visit Ben’s aunt and uncle in New Jersey. The point is, I have always had somewhere to be and food to eat. Even on the rare occasions that I didn’t have many options for Thanksgiving, I did not go hungry, nor was I left out in the cold.
Most of us here today will stuff ourselves this Thanksgiving. We are all looking forward to the meal we will share after worship today, but many of us have plans for Thursday too. We will fill our stomachs, sleep off the turkey, watch the game, talk with relatives, maybe fight with relatives. We may feel lonely. We may feel sad. We may not eat turkey. But we will have shelter and at least something to eat.
We are the lucky ones. There are many people in our community and beyond who struggle to find one meal a day, much less a Thanksgiving feast. There are many who do not have warm coats to ward off the cold, much less a car in which to drive home. Then there are those who are simply without a home.
This week we have the odd but apt juxtaposition of the Thanksgiving holiday and Homelessness Awareness Week. As we prepare to gorge ourselves and subsequently complain about having to loosen our belts, we are called to remember those who are less fortunate.
At Thanksgiving time it is appropriate to lift up songs of praise and gratitude to God, and we are doing that this morning with the words of our first three scripture readings. In my family, we would always go around the table and share at least one thing for which we were thankful, and I like to continue that tradition today. God calls us to such gratitude, as it is God who blesses us with everything we have.
Even as we sing our thanksgiving, however, God calls us to an even greater task. Through the words of Jesus, God calls us to care for those who are in need. “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the realm prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” The people asked, “When was it that we did all these things for you?” and Christ answered, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”1
Even as we are called to give thanks for the blessings God has given us, God calls us to be a blessing to those less fortunate. As we moan about our annoying family members, God calls us to remember our greater human family. Some of these family members may look nothing like us. They may act nothing like us. They may have nothing of what we have. But they, like we, are created in the image of God.
In 2006 more than 35.5 million of God’s children went hungry in this country. Those disproportionately reporting hunger were single mothers (30.4 percent); African American households (21.8 percent); Hispanic households (19.5 percent); and households with incomes below the official poverty line (36.3 percent). Of the 35.5 million people who went hungry last year, 12.6 were children.2 Some of these hungry people were homeless. Some had homes. Many had to choose between shelter and food. Whatever the circumstances, they went to bed too many nights with empty stomachs.
In the richest, most powerful country in the world, 35.5 million people went hungry. In an average year, 3.5 million Americans will experience a period of homelessness.3 “For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”4
The purpose of this sermon is not to make you feel guilty. Jesus himself shared a feast with family and friends, and our ancestors in faith have been gathering around the table to share meals and give thanks ever since. The purpose of this sermon is not to make you think, “Too bad those poor people can’t enjoy a piece of this wonderful pumpkin pie!” The purpose of this sermon is not to make you think, “I wonder what they did to deserve being hungry or homeless!” My purpose is not to make you say, along with many of your fellow Americans, “They’re just hungry and/or homeless because they’re lazy.” “All he needs to do to get off the streets is stop drinking. How hard is that?!” The purpose of this sermon is not to cause you to judge your neighbor -- or even to remind you that any one of us could become homeless or hungry at any moment, and that a huge percentage of the poor in this country work full time.
The purpose of this sermon is mainly to make you think. What can you do to help this situation? How can you reach out to those who are starving, those who are without a place to go, much less a family with whom to spend Thanksgiving? What can you do to care for “the least of these”?
God is not simply going to swoop down and pour material blessings upon those living in poverty. God doesn’t work that way. Rather, it is up to us, as God’s children, to be a blessing to our brothers and sisters. It is up to us to feed the hungry, provide drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, heal the sick, visit the imprisoned. As you gather around the table this Thanksgiving, I invite you to ask yourselves, and one another, how you can carry out Jesus’ greatest commandment: to love your neighbor as yourself.
Now let us pray.
1 Matthew 25:35-40, NRSV translation.
2 “Hunger figures for 2006 no better,” Fargo Forum newspaper, Fargo, North Dakota, 11/15/07. Accessed via http://www.in-forum.com/News/articles/183616 on 11/15/07.
3 Los Angeles Homeless Services Coalition, http://lahsc.org/wordpress/educate/statistics/united-states-homeless-statistics/, accessed on 11/17/07.
4 Matthew 25:42-45, NRSV translation.
Matthew 25:31-45
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 18 November, 2007
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Homelessness Awareness Sunday
 Every year for Thanksgiving my family would drive an hour to my cousins’ farm near Enderlin, North Dakota. When we arrived there would be lots of hugging, plenty of appetizers, and the authoritative voice of Aunt Emmy barking orders. Finally, an hour or two after dinner had been scheduled (this happened every year), we would gather around the table for the sumptuous feast. There was turkey with all the fixings, acorn squash, cranberries, potatoes, stuffing, vegetables, several different kinds of pie. We ate and talked and laughed and ate and talked and laughed some more. Rather than settle down in front of the TV to watch football after the big meal, we would sit around and talk. The children (myself included, when I was young) would play all sorts of imaginative games. We would revel in the warmth of extended family.
In North Dakota snow is a distinct possibility by Thanksgiving, so when we were finally ready to go home we would bundle up in our warm coats, hats, mittens, and boots, and shiver as we waited for the car to warm up.
During college, I was unable to go home to North Dakota for Thanksgiving, and I haven’t spent Thanksgiving there since Ben and I married, but I have always had a place to be and food to eat. There was the year a college roommate and I invited everyone on our college campus who was unable to go home for Thanksgiving. We cooked a full Thanksgiving dinner in our little dormitory kitchen and shared it with two Sri Lankans. There was the year I visited cousins in Connecticut. I spent Thanksgiving at a friend’s house in Philadelphia one year. After Ben and I married, we spent Thanksgiving with my cousins in Northern California. The past two years we have spent Thanksgiving with my cousins in Columbia, Maryland. This year we will visit Ben’s aunt and uncle in New Jersey. The point is, I have always had somewhere to be and food to eat. Even on the rare occasions that I didn’t have many options for Thanksgiving, I did not go hungry, nor was I left out in the cold.
Most of us here today will stuff ourselves this Thanksgiving. We are all looking forward to the meal we will share after worship today, but many of us have plans for Thursday too. We will fill our stomachs, sleep off the turkey, watch the game, talk with relatives, maybe fight with relatives. We may feel lonely. We may feel sad. We may not eat turkey. But we will have shelter and at least something to eat.
We are the lucky ones. There are many people in our community and beyond who struggle to find one meal a day, much less a Thanksgiving feast. There are many who do not have warm coats to ward off the cold, much less a car in which to drive home. Then there are those who are simply without a home.
This week we have the odd but apt juxtaposition of the Thanksgiving holiday and Homelessness Awareness Week. As we prepare to gorge ourselves and subsequently complain about having to loosen our belts, we are called to remember those who are less fortunate.
At Thanksgiving time it is appropriate to lift up songs of praise and gratitude to God, and we are doing that this morning with the words of our first three scripture readings. In my family, we would always go around the table and share at least one thing for which we were thankful, and I like to continue that tradition today. God calls us to such gratitude, as it is God who blesses us with everything we have.
Even as we sing our thanksgiving, however, God calls us to an even greater task. Through the words of Jesus, God calls us to care for those who are in need. “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the realm prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” The people asked, “When was it that we did all these things for you?” and Christ answered, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”1
Even as we are called to give thanks for the blessings God has given us, God calls us to be a blessing to those less fortunate. As we moan about our annoying family members, God calls us to remember our greater human family. Some of these family members may look nothing like us. They may act nothing like us. They may have nothing of what we have. But they, like we, are created in the image of God.
In 2006 more than 35.5 million of God’s children went hungry in this country. Those disproportionately reporting hunger were single mothers (30.4 percent); African American households (21.8 percent); Hispanic households (19.5 percent); and households with incomes below the official poverty line (36.3 percent). Of the 35.5 million people who went hungry last year, 12.6 were children.2 Some of these hungry people were homeless. Some had homes. Many had to choose between shelter and food. Whatever the circumstances, they went to bed too many nights with empty stomachs.
In the richest, most powerful country in the world, 35.5 million people went hungry. In an average year, 3.5 million Americans will experience a period of homelessness.3 “For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”4
The purpose of this sermon is not to make you feel guilty. Jesus himself shared a feast with family and friends, and our ancestors in faith have been gathering around the table to share meals and give thanks ever since. The purpose of this sermon is not to make you think, “Too bad those poor people can’t enjoy a piece of this wonderful pumpkin pie!” The purpose of this sermon is not to make you think, “I wonder what they did to deserve being hungry or homeless!” My purpose is not to make you say, along with many of your fellow Americans, “They’re just hungry and/or homeless because they’re lazy.” “All he needs to do to get off the streets is stop drinking. How hard is that?!” The purpose of this sermon is not to cause you to judge your neighbor -- or even to remind you that any one of us could become homeless or hungry at any moment, and that a huge percentage of the poor in this country work full time.
The purpose of this sermon is mainly to make you think. What can you do to help this situation? How can you reach out to those who are starving, those who are without a place to go, much less a family with whom to spend Thanksgiving? What can you do to care for “the least of these”?
God is not simply going to swoop down and pour material blessings upon those living in poverty. God doesn’t work that way. Rather, it is up to us, as God’s children, to be a blessing to our brothers and sisters. It is up to us to feed the hungry, provide drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, heal the sick, visit the imprisoned. As you gather around the table this Thanksgiving, I invite you to ask yourselves, and one another, how you can carry out Jesus’ greatest commandment: to love your neighbor as yourself.
Now let us pray.
1 Matthew 25:35-40, NRSV translation.
2 “Hunger figures for 2006 no better,” Fargo Forum newspaper, Fargo, North Dakota, 11/15/07. Accessed via http://www.in-forum.com/News/articles/183616 on 11/15/07.
3 Los Angeles Homeless Services Coalition, http://lahsc.org/wordpress/educate/statistics/united-states-homeless-statistics/, accessed on 11/17/07.
4 Matthew 25:42-45, NRSV translation.
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