11/22/2009

December 22nd, 2009

The King on Trial

November 22, 2009 Christ the King Revelation 1: 4b-8 John 18: 33-37

Rev. Catherine Purves

There are a number of things that we believe in so unquestionably that we almost never think about it. For example, I believe that the sun will rise tomorrow. I believe that freedom is a good thing. I believe that children should be cared for and protected. I don’t debate these things in my mind. They are more like the wallpaper of my mind - always there, never changing, unnoticed, but always affecting the way I look at the world. Given my examples - sun rising, freedom valued, children protected - it seems reasonable that I wouldn’t ever want to change that wallpaper. But are there other things that have become part of the way that we think and that shape the way we look at the world that may not be quite so innocent or harmless?

I am thinking that a lot of us have another piece of wallpaper hanging in our minds that leads us to believe that trials are the best way to get at truth. I think it is undoubtedly the case that we have more lawyers per capita that any other nation on earth. People of my generation or older were raised on Perry Mason back when there were only three television channels. He was the hero who always got to the truth that saved the innocent and punished the guilty. The courtroom was the stage on which the great drama of right and wrong, truth and falsehood was played out. And it was the analytical mind, the critical reason of the lawyer that unearthed and revealed the truth.

Perry Mason was, for me, just the first, and television was only one way in which this mental wallpaper was hung so that the essential goodness of using a trial to get at the truth was established. Consider how big the mystery and crime section of any library is. The impact of classic films, like To Kill a Mockingbird, 12 Angry Men, or Judgment at Nuremburg, was and is huge. And there are so many other books, films, and television

programs that look at life through the lens of a trial.

But, for anyone of my generation, these were all topped by the real-life trial that threatened to topple a president, Watergate. It made for compulsive viewing and addictive serial articles. What a national embarrassment the Watergate break-in and cover-up was, but the investigation and trial of the president promised to put it all right again. Truth would be established. And no one, not even a president, could be above the law. This piece of mental wallpaper is now firmly stuck in place as a shared experience confirming an unquestioned belief: that trials are the best way to get at the truth, and that anyone, even a president or a king, can be put in the dock and be cross-examined.

Our Scripture for this Christ the King Sunday, taken from the Gospel of John, is the account of another trial, the trial of Jesus. In this trial, Pontius Pilate cross-examines Jesus. The issue was whether Jesus was claiming to be King. We are probably all inclined to smile as we see Jesus turning the tables and questioning his own prosecutor. This is the way that trials are supposed to go. The innocent person should be vindicated, and the heartless prosecuting attorney should be put in his place, through, strictly speaking, we all know that Jesus should have been ruled out of order.

One of the things that we may find somewhat disconcerting is the fact that Jesus never actually defends himself. That is what defendants in the dock are supposed to do. He should be proving his case, arguing for his kingship, not just turning around Pilate’s questions and obliquely pointing toward the truth. When you get right down to it, Jesus was not actually buying into the whole trial method of getting at the truth. He wasn’t cooperative in the least. He didn’t bother with witnesses. Most of the time, he was silent before his accusers. When he did answer, his responses were dismissive, as if he really wanted nothing to do with his own trial.

I’d like to suggest the obvious, that this trial was a sham, that we (that is, humanity) had no business putting the Son of God on trial, and that God’s purposes were going to be fulfilled in Jesus no matter what the outcome of his trial might be. I hope that is obvious. But now I would also like to point out that these facts do not necessarily make us any less inclined to think in terms of that trial-based wallpaper in our own minds. That is, I think that we (along with most everyone else) we really do believe that we are in a position to judge whether or not Jesus is or should be king. We can, in our own minds and hearts, put him on trial, and we believe somehow deep down that this is the way the truth of his kingship should be established. To put it more simply, you think that it is your verdict that is all-important. Is Jesus king or not? What say ye, members of the jury?

Wait! Don’t vote. This is what I think the trial transcript in John’s Gospel is trying to prevent. We do not have this power. It is not for us to determine whether Jesus is king. Our cross-examination, our clever, probing questions, our analysis of the evidence, our establishment of the facts - all of that good stuff that we see as essential in any trial is, in this case, inappropriate. Ignore that wallpaper in your mind, because this case, this singular question of the kingship of Christ, is different.

Let’s refer back to the obvious: that this trial was a sham, that we (that is, humanity) had no business putting the Son of God on trial, and that God’s purposes were going to be fulfilled in Jesus no matter what the outcome of his trial might be. Just as Pilate had no right to judge Jesus, just as his verdict had no real significance, and just as the true identity of Jesus was never really in question, so too, our personal deliberations, our sifting of evidence, and our verdicts have no bearing on the truth. Jesus’ kingship impacts us. We do not establish - not even in our own hearts! - we do not establish Jesus’ kingship. So stop putting Jesus on trial, and stop thinking that your verdict, for or against, is so important.

If we need to find a broader perspective that stretches beyond the wallpaper of our own minds, the Revelation of St. John certainly presents the Lordship and the kingship of Jesus on a colossal canvas. Church tradition maintains that it was the same John who wrote both the Gospel and the book of Revelation, though it is hard to imagine two more dissimilar books. The vivid apocalyptic imagery of Revelation relies upon awe and not reason, depicting a cosmic battle, not a carefully argued trial. There is no time, and there is no place for debating the kingship of Jesus, since King Jesus is clearly recognized as Lord of all. Revelation shifts our perspective from a fascination with our own minds and our individual verdicts to an awareness of God’s overarching reality and potent plans for a future that is unfolding.

This must be our vantage point on this Christ the King Sunday. It is not for us to determine the truth - by our reason and judgment to reach a verdict. Instead, we are grasped by the truth. The reality of Christ as King overwhelms us. It was true before the world began. It will be true when the world comes to an end. We can choose not to acknowledge this truth, but that only make us wrong. Our verdict has no bearing on that Truth larger than all others: that Christ is King.

Perhaps it is time for us to replace that old wallpaper in our minds that leads us to see all truth established through trial and reasoned thought. The truth of God in Christ claims our minds and opens them to an awe-filled reality beyond our reasoning and our understanding. Then we can see that Jesus is King of kings and Lord of lords and that all questions of truth find their answer in him. It is just as he said to Pilate: “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”