The Rev. Keri T. Aubert      2 Samuel 23:1-7

All Saints Episcopal Church, South Burlington, Vermont Psalm 132:1-13, (14-19)

November 22, 2009 Revelation 1:4b-8

Proper 29, Year B, RCL (Christ the King) John 18:33-37

In yet another example of dizzying lectionary gymnastics, in a week the assigned gospel has somersaulted from Mark’s Jesus teaching in the temple to John’s Jesus on trial before Pilate. The reason for the acrobatics is that this is the last Sunday before the beginning of Advent, also known as Christ the King Sunday.

There is one stained glass window in my seminary’s chapel, and it depicts Jesus as Christ the King. During my three years there, I had lot of time to ponder that image, as well as my own discomfort with it. That stained-glass Jesus wears a gold crown and holds a scepter and orb. He also wears a chasuble and stole, the type of priestly garments that I’m wearing today. It’s enough to make a seminarian tremble.

If we aren’t always comfortable with the language of Christ as triumphal king, then we might notice also that the Gospels are careful with such language. If you read today’s Gospel closely, you’ll notice that Jesus never accepts the title “King.” Instead he deflects Pilate’s questions. He speaks of a kingdom that is “not from here.” He says that his purpose is, to use a different translation, “To bear witness to the truth.”

“To bear witness to the truth.” It sounds legalistic to me. Let’s go with that, and think about Perry Mason or perhaps a more recent television courtroom drama. In that case, bearing witness to the truth involves observing things as they really are. That’s hard enough, but it’s only just the beginning. One who bears witness to the truth must also participate in the process of making justice. Bearing witness to the truth, then, involves both seeing and doing.

Jesus sees and does: he recognizes brokenness in the world, and he initiates the process that will heal it. Christ’s triumph is that, in the fullness of time, God will reconcile all creation. We might call this end result a kingdom, but it’s a kingdom that transcends any boundaries of time or space. It’s a kingdom held together not by force, but by love—the radically relational love of our Trinitarian God—Creator, Christ, and Spirit.

In the meantime, there is much to do. If we listen to Jesus’ voice, we hear him call us to join in God’s redeeming work in the world. We belong to the truth when we hear and respond to that call with honesty and courage, by looking around us and then doing what needs to be done.

One contemporary theologian describes it this way: “Truth is more than the retelling of the biblical story. Truth is the divine happening that invades our contemporary situation, revealing the meaning of the past for the present so that we are made new creatures of the future. . . . Our commitment to the divine truth . . . requires us to investigate the connection between Jesus’ words and deeds . . . and our existence today.”[i]

Connecting the words and deeds of Jesus to our existence today—church is about many things, but I believe that this is the most important. And in this, All Saints Church has done good work. You have a strong understanding of how the Gospel moves in your lives, and of how you individually and communally express that movement. It’s important to recognize this, as today we celebrate our ministry together and mark its coming to a close. I would be remiss if I failed to publicly acknowledge how important this experience has been to me personally, in ways I could never have anticipated. Over the past 14 months, you have made me a better priest, and for that I am grateful. More importantly, I believe that this congregation is well prepared to welcome David as your new rector.

Some congregations in transition spend the entire time with their collective breaths held. Eventually such a congregation is metaphorically lying passed out on the floor, and the first order of business for the new rector is to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Well, this congregation is not gasping for air. This congregation has worked hard, all the while continuing to inhale the fresh breath of the Spirit. This congregation’s cheeks are rosy with life, and its face is shining with good humor.

That being said, I’d like to offer you a reminder to continue to move ahead as confidently as you have come to this point. Related to that, I’d like to tell a story. A new seminary dean began his installation sermon with this tale about a party of duck hunters.

The duck hunters were from Maine, and annually their friends would visit them from New York City. New York City people, as everyone knows, are not easily impressed.  Aware of this, the Mainers decided to train their dog to walk on the surface of the water to retrieve the ducks blasted out of the sky. When the New Yorkers finally did arrive in Maine, the event got underway, and the dog did indeed retrieve dead ducks while walking on the water.  The New Yorkers were silent. By the end of the day the Mainers couldn’t stand it any longer and asked, “Did you notice anything interesting about our dog?” One of the visitors replied, “We weren’t going to say anything, but since you ask, we noticed that your dog can’t swim.”[ii]

In the church, it can be so easy to focus on what we don’t have, rather than on what we do have. The fact of the matter is that, together, you have all the gifts you need. Remember, neither you nor your new rector need be able to walk on water. You must simply be your wonderfully complete and human selves. I believe that you are more ready than ever to fulfill this church’s mission statement: “All Saints Church is called by God to be an inviting, welcoming, and supportive Christian community to all people seeking to grow in faith and do God’s work in the world.” Together, you have the opportunity to put on the priestly garments of the triumphal kingdom of Christ. No acrobatics are necessary. Maybe you’ll tremble once in a while, but that’s okay. The God of love is with you.

Back when I was in seminary and going through a bit of a rough patch, I passed by my preaching professor’s office and saw this poem tacked to her bulletin board:

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic

and she said yes

I asked her if it was okay to be short

and she said it sure is

I asked her if I could wear nail polish

or not wear nail polish

and she said honey

she calls me that sometimes

she said you can do just exactly

what you want to

Thanks God I said

And is it even okay if I don't paragraph

my letters

Sweetcakes God said

who knows where she picked that up

what I'm telling you is

Yes Yes Yes[iii]

God is calling you, and God is saying “Yes. Yes. Yes.”