Saturday, November 23, 2019

November 24, Ingathering Sunday (a.k.a. The Reign of Christ): Strange Fruit



Jeremiah 23:1-6, Benedictus, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

When visitors come into our sanctuary, they often ask, “Where’s the cross?” I tell them that actually there is one, almost hidden, and then I show it to them. (It's in the Pilgrim's Progress window.) So, why no cross in a Reformed Church? No, not a Roman Catholic crucifix, with a dying Jesus on it, but maybe a nice empty cross? Well, because the Lord Jesus told us that the symbol of his death should be the bread-plate and the cup.

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But when the cross in whatever version was put upon the battle flags of the empires and kingdoms of Christendom it was not to symbolize his death, but to claim the endorsement of his sovereignty, the Kingdom of Christ. And so the ecumenical lectionary has appointed the crucifixion story as the Gospel for the Sunday of the Reign of Christ, the Feast of Christ the King (invented by the pope). And when Pontius Pilate posted that inscription, “The King of the Judeans Is this Guy,” Pilate was humiliating Jesus and the Jews, but he was also paradoxically enthroning Jesus upon the cross.


Now in Reformed theology we’d prefer more Biblically to celebrate the Reign of Christ on Ascension Day. That’s when the Lord Jesus entered heaven to sit at the right hand of his Father, in the seat of universal power. It’s an injustice to Our Lord’s accomplishment to keep him on the cross or even to make the cross our primary symbol of his Lordship. And that’s why some of us prefer to use a different name for this last Sunday of the church year: we call it Ingathering Sunday. And the theme of gathering-in fits nicely with our other lessons from Jeremiah and Colossians.



And yet, this gospel lesson does have value today by showing us the kind of power that the Lord Jesus exercises even on the throne of heaven. It’s not a kind of power that any worldly power would expect or respect. It’s not coercive power but persuasive power. It’s not a forcing power but a forgiving power. It’s not a condemning power but a reconciling power. It’s not a conquering power but a gathering power. The Lord Jesus wields his power in heaven no differently than we see him wield it on the cross, as Jesus gathers the thief in. That thief is our man, he stands for all of us.

He doesn’t ask for much, he doesn’t argue his innocence, he accepts his punishment. All he asks is that Jesus remember him when he comes into his kingdom. It’s a very Jewish request, to be remembered, more so than in Christianity. But to be remembered properly required an honorable death and an honorable burial. Which this thief will not get. His death on a tree was accursed by Jewish law and the Romans will let his body hang there until it putrefies. He’s dying a shameful death, so all he asks is that someday Jesus will remember his partner in their agony.

That’s crazy. How does the thief imagine that Jesus will ever come into his kingdom? At this point it looks obvious that Jesus will never have any kingdom at all. He has failed as the Messiah. It’s over. What could this thief be seeing in Jesus? Or has he just got nothing left to lose?

The answer of Jesus is just as crazy. “Amen, today you’ll be with me in the paradise.” What does that mean? If it's “today,” then not going to heaven, because Jesus won’t be going there for another forty-three days and the next three days he’ll be stone dead. A “paradise” was something more specific back then, it was a royal garden.

Jesus uses that word not to convey so much the bliss of the place as its status: Today you will be with me in the White House Rose Garden!  Or better, in my new Garden of Eden. Which in the circumstance was laughable. This wasn’t any paradise, it was a killing ground. The only fruit in this garden is the strange fruit hanging from the Roman trees.



Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root.
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze;
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.



The Jewish Jesus is on a lynching tree, the union of racism and anti-Semitism. And when Christian Nationalism reveals its racism and its anti-Semitism then you know it isn’t really Christian.

Now, if these strange fruits are in a Garden like Eden of Our Lord’s vision, then Jesus is the new Adam, the firstborn of that new humanity that is a theme of St. Luke’s Gospel, that new humanity that Jesus has created right within the glorious and powerful old humanity of Roman civilization, which will try to exterminate the new humanity within it.

And if this paradoxical paradise is the Rose Garden of the Kingdom of God, then this thief is a cabinet member in that Kingdom. He got there by being pardoned. He got a royal pardon from Jesus, and pardoning is what kings do.

As Colossians says, “He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” And that’s not just for the thief. The Lord Jesus pardons them all when he issues his general amnesty, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” the chief priests, Pilate, the soldiers, the other thief, and in them everybody—the whole world, as Colossians says: “Through Jesus God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of the cross.” The pledge of God’s peace upon the symbol of Roman violence.

Everybody is forgiven, but it’s the thief who believed it. Everybody standing there was stuck in their hostility and fear, but the thief acknowledged his guilt and his predicament and was free to accept God’s forgiveness. Everybody standing there was in the circle of the Kingdom of Jesus, but the thief envisioned it as a member of the new humanity.

That’s what you get too, you become part of the new humanity when you accept the forgiveness of your sins and when you believe the vision of Jesus. It can be hard to see, as it was for the other thief, and the whole thing looks like a cruel joke that can only be derided. But you are here today because you want to see it and you want to believe it. And I can tell you today that in order to see the Reign of God you have to look for it with a double vision.

First, envision the Kingdom of God as out there in the future, majestic, cosmic, impending, over-arching, all-inclusive, the life of the world to come, the future always pressing down on us, judging everything, keeping us always discontent. In the light of this Kingdom you examine everything and question everything. The cross judges everything. You may never be content with any human system. Every advance in church and society must be analyzed and criticized. The Kingdom demands nothing less than radical change. The Kingdom is a revolutionary magnitude that we cannot measure, and its holiness reveals the vanity of all we do. This is the source of the revolutionary vigor of our faith.

But also envision the Kingdom as already present in the world—the leaven in the loaf, a seed in the ground, a treasure in the field, the fruit on the tree, a mustard seed, the faith of children, working quietly within the world and changing it mysteriously. See the signs of it no matter how strange the fruit, as you yourself are a sign of fragile life. So you can be open, you can be patient, you can be humble, you can be joyful, you can be confident that God is working in the world right now, in fragile ways, and doing it through you, as God gathers all that you do into God’s final victory.

You keep these two visions together so that you offer a double witness, and you do your actions in the world with reference both to the future, which we cannot achieve but do receive, as it is given us by God, and to the hidden present, where God keeps revealing God’s self in your all-too-human attempts at love and mercy and welcome, so that even the hill of The Skull may be a Paradise.

You don’t have to be a strong believer, or a hero of the faith, or a soldier of the cross. Maybe all you’re doing is answering a subpoena and you’re afraid of a penalty. But this government of Jesus does not punish—it gathers, it gathers you even at your worst. In the vision of Jeremiah, God is the shepherd who gathers your wandering on the mountains so wonderfully that you end up at home.

So this is how Jesus conquers Rome and all the empires. This is how he wields his power—by his speech and in his grace. He does not use his power to manipulate events, not then, not now, even from his throne in heaven. By his Word he offers, by his Word he invites, by his Word he pardons, he rehabilitates, he promotes, he appoints, he welcomes, and by his Spirit he comforts and enlightens. This power that he wields is never other than the power of his love.

Copyright © 2019 by Daniel Meeter, all rights reserved.

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