Göttinger Predigten
Göttinger Predigten im Internet hg. von U. Nembach
Christ the King – Last Sunday after Pentecost , 11/23/2014
Sermon on Matthew 25:31-46, by Allison Zbicz Michael
"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom 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.' Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?'And the king will answer them, ‘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.' Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; 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.' And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life" (NRSV).
Christ the King Sunday is not an especially old festival, at least not compared to the other feast days we mark each year in the church calendar. It was 1925 when Pope Pius XI issued an encyclical letter establishing the feast of Christ the King.i
The new feast was established in response to the needs of the day, but it was also eerily prophetic about the horrors that would come in the following decades. In the months before the encyclical was issued, Mussolini announced that he was taking upon himself dictatorial powers in his rule of Italy, an assault by the Bulgarian Communist Party on St. Nedelya Church claimed the lives of 150 worshippers, and Hitler's Mein Kampf was published in July. Hard-line nationalist movements had their own adherents on American soil as well. Pius XI observed a world where leaders of nations and movements seemed to think especially highly of themselves and of their earthly objectives.
As hindsight has taught us, those events were mere foreshadowing for the sweeping nationalism and hate-filled absolute ideologies which would eventually engulf so much of the world blood.
Pretensions and arrogance are nothing new, and the war which was supposed to end all wars may have slowed or obstructed the horrific plans of a few over-inflated egos, but unfortunately, it did nothing to stop the boundless pride of each new generation of princes and prime ministers. You only need to listen to a handful of the speeches of world leaders to hear grandiose claims of those who would crown themselves with powers and titles better reserved for God.
No wonder Christ the King Sunday has been adopted by such a wide range of churches and denominations. The world of 2014, just as much as the world of 1925, is a world which needs the reminders of Christ the King Sunday.
Those rulers who think too highly of themselves and their power should be reminded that they are not as important as they think they are-their own empires will rise and pass away. Most of them will soon be as forgotten as Shelley's Ozymandias, whose effigy bearing the words "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'" stood crumbling and broken, half-buried in a boundless stretch of sand.ii The rule of the powerful should be chastened by the knowledge that just like the weakest among us, they will also perish, and Christ will demand an account of their deeds.
But let's be honest: pretensions do not belong only to powerful heads of state. Nor is their destructive power reserved for those who wield machetes and AK-47s, who hold nuclear launch codes in their grasp. Pretensions are not only for those who claim electoral victory or who have bought all the influence they need. Pretensions show up in classrooms, workplaces, small town governments, volunteer organizations, in churches, and in families. Pretensions can painfully tear apart a family or poison a workplace in the same way they can lead a country into civil war.
In a community where I once lived, a newly elected member of the town council was pulled over for a speeding violation. When the officer asked to see her ID, she apparently said, "don't you know who I am?" Well, no, the officer didn't know who she was any more than he knew the village dogcatcher-and he didn't really care. Traffic laws still applied.
The woman's question may seem comically ridiculous, and at least in this case, her foolishness led mainly to her own embarrassment in the local press. Did she really think that town council was such an important job that everyone was supposed to recognize her at all times? Her comment, though, is illustrative of the irrationality of pretension, and her incredulous question lies beneath all human our pride, no matter how subtle we try to be.
Because we try to maintain our illusions of grandeur for ourselves at all costs, when someone or something threatens to take us down a notch, the gut reaction is to get defensive: "don't you know who I am? I shouldn't have to take this, because I'm more important, more righteous, more wealthy, more wise, more worthy of good things than you are."
We need Christ the King Sunday to chasten and humble that voice within that speaks lies to our hearts, that voice that says:
"What I want is more important than what you want, so I'm entitled to be irritable or angry if I don't get my way. It is your fault that I lost my temper. Don't you know who I am?"
"What I have to say is more important than what you have to say, so I'm going to talk without ceasing and I'm never going to listen. Don't you know who I am?"
"I think your sins are worse than my sins, so I'm going to hold a grudge or assume the worst of your actions. Don't you know who I am?"
"I know my mind, and I'm going to do what I want. Who cares if there are others who have been given authority over me? Who cares if a wise friend asks me to reconsider my choices? Don't these people know who I am? I'm the master of my own destiny."
"I don't have everything thing I think I should have. Sometimes life is difficult. So I'll be bitter and will fail to give thanks to God for the many undeserved blessings that I do have. Don't you know who I am, God? I know better than you do, and I shouldn't have to put up with this."
Christ the King Sunday gives us the humbling reminder that there will come a day when we will not be the ones asking the questions. In fact, our own arrogant question will be turned back on us when Jesus asks us, "don't you know who I am?" With that one question, all human pretensions will crumble to dust.
As the sheep and the goats discover in the parable, we will see then that He was the homeless man that lived in our town. He was the one in prison for unspeakable crimes. He was the woman with Ebola, or the kidnapped schoolgirl in Nigeria. He was every person you didn't want to deal with because they were too irritating or too dangerous or simply too much trouble. Jesus was there in the very people that human pride so quickly scorns. Jesus, who came to give sight to the blind was also the blind man. Jesus, who came to make the lame to leap was also the one begging by the roadside. Jesus, who is King of all creation, was also born of a woman, a poor boy in a rough manger. Jesus, who had the power to raise the dead, was the one dying the death of a common criminal.
Before this King, the pretensions of princes, of town council members, of bosses, of colleagues, of pastors-even your own dearly held illusions about yourself-will pass away . The tyranny of these pretentions will not have the final say, and the destructive power of arrogance will be cast out. Human pride will no longer be able to kill or hurt or destroy.
This is Grace. The Prince of Peace and King of Righteousness is casting out all false pride so that no one may manipulate the poor for his own gain, nor will any person abuse the helpless to defend or improve her own reputation. No longer will people abandon the powerless to chase after false gods. Instead, Christ King will replace (and is replacing) the coldness of human pretentions with the healing grace of his own most merciful reign.
Zusätzliche Medien:
I Pius XI. Quas Primas. http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/pius_xi/encyclicals/documents/hf_p-xi_enc_11121925_quas-primas_en.html
II P.B. Shelley. Ozymandias of Egypt. http://www.bartleby.com/106/246.html.