"I Confer On You A Kingdom"
Accept Jesus' invitation to the Kingdom.
Sermon Preached by
The Reverend Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Text: Luke 22:14-20
It was one of the most emotional days of the 19th century. It was 1806 and a commoner was about to be buried in London's St. Paul's Cathedral for the first time. The man in question was Horatio Lord Nelson. In 1805, during the Battle of Trafalgar, he had been killed by a sharpshooter, but realizing how important this man was, his crew preserved his body in a barrel of brandy, and then, in what has been called the greatest aquatic procession that the river Thames ever saw, brought it along the river from Greenwich up to the stairs of Whitehall.
So long was the procession, so many people were part of it, that by the time the head of the procession reached the cathedral mourners were still leaving Whitehall. That shows how many people recognized the greatness of Horatio Nelson.
Then, something else remarkable happened. When the funeral service was over, the sailors who had carried his coffin lowered him into the crypt. Then, one by one, they took, the Union Jack that had been draped on the coffin and tore fragments from it. For each one of them carrying the coffin wanted some remembrance, some semblance of the indomitable dead. They weren't going to leave without a part of him going with them.
This morning, as you are invited to come and take the sacrament of Holy Communion, you are being invited to do something similar, but even more important. The one whom you are going to remember, a fragment of whom you are going to take, was not a great politician or a great warrior or a great leader. He was never recognized for having won any outstanding battles, and when he died, people turned their backs in shame that this man had suffered such an ignominious death. You are not going to receive a piece of clothing or some semblance of a shrine; instead, you are receiving a memorial, a symbol of what his life and his death and his resurrection really meant. If you do not think this is important, if you do not think that it is anything more than a ritual or a rite, let me tell you, you are wrong! I will tell you why. It is because the one whom we remember is Jesus of Nazareth, the Lord of Life, the one who reigns in the Kingdom of God.
Earlier this year, when I visited Chile, I saw a pastor who has been working the majority of his life in the poorest parts of the Puerto Valparaiso on the Pacific coast. In the 19th and the early part of the 20th century, it was a very busy port used for delivering goods to the east. However, once they built the Panama Canal, it became redundant, and many of the people there lived in the greatest poverty. I drove through parts of the city and saw the poorest people I have seen since my days in Africa.
I asked this pastor why it is that so many of these people are turning up in church. Why is there a revival of sorts within the Christian community? Why are things starting to accelerate? He said, “Andrew, the people that I work with are the poorest of the poor, and one parishioner of mine put everything in perspective. He said, ”˜Don't you realize that because my brother is Jesus, my father is a King?'” When you live with little or no identity, when you live in poverty and the sense that justice has passed you by, that knowledge that you are beloved in God's eyes, that you are worthy in God's kingdom, that you are valuable in God's sight, doesn't mean something, it means everything.
Now, as we prepare to take Communion, as we take this fragment of Christ's life and his death, we do so realizing that we come to this table in a state of poverty of heart and soul and mind, that we come in the poverty of our own sin and immorality, we come with all the brokenness that our life brings, and just like those people in Chile, as we come to this Lord, we realize we come to our Father, who is and embodies the Kingdom, the realm of God.
When Jesus gathered those disciples together in that upper room for the first time, they were overwhelmed by what they were witnessing. As Jews, they knew the symbolism of that table, for they were gathering for the Passover meal. According to the Gospel of John, it was the day before the Passover, and according to Luke and Matthew and Mark, it was the day of the Passover. The writers were probably using two different calendars - lunar and solar - to determine the days, but the message is the same, the symbol is the same: Jesus gathered them together at the time of the Passover.
For Jews, the Passover is celebrated with a Seder meal with four cups, and these four cups represent the memory of God redeeming and saving Israel in the Exodus. Later on, as the Book of Jeremiah picks up, it also became the celebration of the Exile, where the people had lived in a foreign land and God had finally brought them home to Zion, where he would reign.
Jesus now takes two cups. The first cup is the Cup of Thanksgiving; the second is the Cup of the Covenant. The first is a statement of thanksgiving to God for doing something marvelous; the covenant is the symbol that God is continuing to be faithful to his people and to his word. Jesus knew that the Covenant from the very beginning was not just a covenant with Israel, as important and as irreplaceable as that might be, but that God's covenant was with the whole world. It was the covenant that was to bring people into the Kingdom, into his reign, into his justice, and into his love and his peace and his forgiveness.
Jesus knew that by sharing this cup with those disciples, he was doing something more: He was telling them that he was going to fulfill this covenant. He was saying to them that this meal that they were about to take, these fragments that they were about to eat and drink, were symbols of what he was going to do to bring the covenant to a broken world, to let people know that God and his love are there for them.
What is amazing about this meal is that it cannot be taken outside the context of Jesus' whole life. As N.T. Wright argues, the meal and the message of Jesus interpret one another. The meal cannot be taken out of context and understood on its own any more than the ministry of Jesus can be understood without the meal. The two are synonymous. By offering himself to those disciples, by breaking the bread and saying “Take eat; take drink; this is the New Covenant in my blood,” he was inviting them into his ministry, into his life, into his death and resurrection.
That same invitation is there for every one of us this very day. It is one that has been fulfilled already. Jesus' ministry was to bring the world into the covenant of God, to lay down his life, to bring in the lost and the lonely and the despised and the broken and the hurting, to bring the whole of humanity into the covenant of God's grace and God's love. Jesus knew that it was he alone who would fulfill this. In breaking the bread, he was in fact giving to the disciples the very gift of himself. Today, he is giving the gift of himself to you and to me.
I recall, many years ago, one of the highlights of my father's years in ministry. He received a call from a solicitor in the Yorkshire town of Barnard Castle, who wanted to see him right away. My father had no idea why, but the solicitor said, “Now, I want you to be part of this, Reverend Stirling, because I believe that you are going to be an important bridge for my client,” and they agreed to meet. My father went with great expectation and met with the solicitor. When he came home from the meeting he was beaming like a Cheshire cat.
The very next day, he arranged a meeting between the solicitor and a 12-year-old girl, who was a member of our congregation. This girl had been brought up in her early days in an orphanage, as she never knew her parents. Then she went into foster care, and after foster care, eventually was adopted by a rather poor, but lovely older couple, who brought her to church every Sunday. My father called a meeting among the parents, the young girl and the solicitor, and they sat down in the living room of our house. Then, the announcement was made: The solicitor informed the young girl that her biological father had died.
Now, this was before the days when there was any sharing of such information. Her mother evidently had died in childbirth, and the father, as a young man, was so frightened and incapable of bringing up the baby that he left her in the care of others. Now, he was dead, and it happened that he had done very well in his life, and had actually been one of the founders of one of the United Kingdom's largest pharmaceutical companies. He had left millions of pounds to the daughter that he never knew, and my father sat in that room in our house and watched the parents and the young girl as she saw what had always been there for her, but never knew.
My friends, the Kingdom of God is just like that with us. It is, as Jesus called it, a kingdom beyond price, it is a kingdom that is eternal; it is a kingdom that knows no end. It is just there, waiting for us. All the benefits of what Christ did on the cross, all the love and the justice and the hope and the peace that he brought humanity, all the sacrifice that he offered, is like a gift waiting. All we have to do is accept it as our inheritance. It is ours; it is paid for; it's already there.
So many people get caught up in the feeling that the only way that they can have the benefits of God's forgiveness and grace and love is to earn it or to be worthy of it. Many people don't want to take the fragments of the bread and the wine because they don't feel that they can live up to it. The message of the Christian faith is you don't have to earn it; Christ has already earned it for us. That is the good news. It is fulfilled. The Kingdom is ours, if we will but take it in faith.
It is also a kingdom that has a future. Jesus knew when he offered himself to those disciples that while that particular meal might have been a one-time celebration and unique, it would be celebrated forever throughout the eons. It was not just for the here and now, it was for time immemorial - a new covenant that would have no end, a new gift that would be given time and time again to rich and poor, to lowly and high, the mighty and wise, to the ignorant and poor, to all of humanity who were willing to humble themselves and receive it.
Sometimes, my friends, we in the church look around and become a little despondent. We wonder whether this great God and the wonder of Jesus and his kingdom are really at work in the world. I must admit there are times when I hear of children dying or of people starving that I have these moments of doubt, and I do wonder if this is a gracious and a loving God, and if his kingdom is actually at work.
Sure you feel that way! Who wouldn't? We all do. Sometimes, I think the church is like a poster that I read about a lost dog. It said, “Dog lost. Only has three legs. Is blind in one eye. Is deaf in the right ear. Was recently neutered. Goes by the name Lucky.” Well, the church is just like that. Wounded, missing a leg and an arm and an eye - not quite perfect, but lucky, fortunate, blessed, having being left with a gift, a gift of great price. We need to receive it.
Just recently, there was a movie reprised on television called Mr. Holland's Opus. It is a wonderful story about a music teacher who for 35 years had wanted to write a great opus, a great symphony. However, because of the demands of teaching and a family and the need for income, he was never able to write the great opus that he felt was within him. Finally, the day comes when he is informed by the State of Oregon that they are going to cancel the music programs in the school where he has taught for 35 years, and that he has been made redundant.
He goes into his office and packs his books in a box and he is upset: His dreams have not been fulfilled; he feels he has not accomplished his goal; he has not met his purpose. He is sad and he is dejected - his opus was never written. As he is walking down the hallway, all of a sudden he hears all this music in the gymnasium. Assembled in the gymnasium are all his former students, who have come back to say farewell. One by one, they recount what a difference he made in their lives. Oh, he had never written his opus, but he had led so many to an appreciation and a love of music. One of his students, a woman who had become the governor of the state, got up and gave a lasting tribute that went as follows: “Look around you, Mr. Holland. There is not a life in this room that you have not touched, and each one of us is a better person because of you. We are your symphony, Mr. Holland. We are the melodies and the notes of your opus, and we are the music of your life.”
I think Jesus of Nazareth looks upon his church - broken and wounded, sometimes bearing his scars - but he says, “You are my melody. You are my opus. You are my music. I want you to take a part of me, and I want you to share it with the world. I want you to look to the future in hope.” That is why we have the renewal campaign, as a symbol that this church sees that it has a future that brings people in and makes them welcome and gives them a place that is safe. We must be a church of believers who, in a sense, take the fragments with us and share them with a broken world, for Christ says to us at this table this morning, “I confer on you a kingdom that I have already fulfilled.” May you receive it and share it with joy. Hosanna! Amen.
This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.