Sunday, November 22, 2009

King on the Hill


King-on-the-hill
according to Jesus and John

November 22, 2009, Feast of Christ the King
Daniel 7:13-14 Revelation 1; 5-8 John 18:33-37


To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a temple not built by human hands[2]

First reading from Daniel

As the visions during the night continued, I saw one like a Son of man coming, on the clouds of heaven; when he reached the Ancient One and was presented before him, the one like a Son of man received dominion, glory, and kingship; all peoples, nations, and languages serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed.

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to John
Glory to you, Lord.

Pilate said to Jesus, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Do you say this on your own or have others told you about Me?" Pilate answered, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests handed you over to Me. What have you done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep Me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not here." So Pilate said to Him, "Then you are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say I am a king. 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." Jn 18:33b-37


The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Introduction
The end of the year

Today marks the end of the church’s liturgical year. After having celebrated all the feasts of Our Lord and His saints through 52 weeks, the church crowns her fast-departing old year with a feast in honor of Christ the King. Next Sunday is New Years Day in the church with the arrival of the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2009.

A recent feast

The feast of Christ the King was instituted as recently as 1925 by Pope Pius XI.[3] At that time, the pope was battling various kings of this world. He was fighting anticlericalism in Mexico and the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. In his own backyard, he was fighting the Kingdom of Italy which had confiscated papal territories. With his newly instituted feast the Pope seemed to be saying, “We have a King who is greater than all you kings. He is Jesus of Nazareth -- the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.” (Rev 19:26)

This late November feast is somewhat superfluous; already in early spring, we have a feast honoring Christ as king. On Palm Sunday, the church cries out, "Hosanna to the Son of David! O King of Israel, hosanna in the highest!" Holy Week is a better context for proclaiming the kingship of Christ. It sets Jesus upon an ass and not upon a throne. It places a palm branch in his hand and not a scepter. It plants a wreath of thorns upon his head and not a tiara. And the Passion read on Palm Sunday sets the records straight for anyone who might be tempted to build an earthly kingdom for Jesus. "My kingdom,” Jesus tells Pilate, “is not of this world." (Jn 18:36)

History’s long list of rogue kings
The human race has a long history of rogue kings. King Herod, leery about Jesus “the new-born king of the Jews,” slew all baby boys two years and younger. (Mt 2:2-16) In the second half of the twentieth century Saddam Hussein (who lived as a king in eight palaces before he ended up hiding in a hole in the ground) dotted the landscape of Iraq with kingly statues of himself, as he filled the dumps with the remains of people who did not want him as king.

However we might feel about kings, Scripture is clear: Jesus is a king. He is a king as He comes into the world, and as He leaves it. At his conception, the angel Gabriel announces to Mary that the Lord God would give her Son the throne of His ancestor David, and of his kingdom there would be no end. (Lk 1:32-33) At his trial, the Roman governor Pontius Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you a king?”He answers, “Yes, for this I was born, and for this I came into the world.” (Jn 18:37) Accordingly, a gang of Roman soldiers wove a crown of thorns and pressed it down on Jesus’ head. (Mt 27:29) Then they forced Him to climb the hill of Calvary and nailed Him to a cross upon which Pilate hung a notice written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. (Jn 19:19)
No salvation outside the Church

Before the days when kids had a lot of money to buy hi-tech toys, we had to invent our own games. We invented `hop-scotch;’ that required only some chalk to write on the sidewalk. We invented `kick-the-can;’ that required only an empty tin can. We invented `king-on-the-hill;’ that required only some kind of a height (like a raft or roof or a mound) upon which to stand and drive off anyone trying to get to the top and unseat us. The one who managed to unseat the one on top proclaimed himself king.

Not only kids but adult, too, like to play king-on-the-hill. For ages theologians and churchmen quoted a dictum of St. Cyprian, a church father of the third century, that “outside the Church there is no salvation”( “extra Ecclesiam nulla salus“). Perhaps the dictum was not much more than a comment made off the top of Cyprian’s head, but it stuck. It eventually deteriorated into a mumbled and half-examined belief that only Christians (or worse yet, only Catholics) made it to the top of the hill in the kingdom of heaven. If there were others besides Christians on that lofty height, it was because they had snuck in through some kind of a “backdoor,” like a “baptism of desire.”

See what Jesus does every time Christian extremists play king-on-the-hill in His name and try to make Him king: after the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, the fervent crowds wanted to seize Him and make Him king. Scripture says, “Jesus fled from them and hid Himself up in the mountains.” (Jn 6: 15)
No salvation outside the Mosque

Not only extreme Christians but extreme Muslims also like to play king-on-the-hill. For them, too, there is no room on the top for any other way or culture than the Islamic way and culture: all men should wear beards, all women should hide their existence under berkas, and all believers should fall to their knees in prayer five times a day. If you don’t follow that way or culture, you’re an infidel -- damned and lost, for “outside the Mosque there is no salvation.”
On Thursday, November 5, 2009 Major Nidal Malik Hasan, a Muslim, opened fire at Fort Hood, Texas, killing 13 and wounding 29, as he cried out, “Allahu Akbar!” “God is great!” Months before, Hasan had contacts with Anwar al-Awlaki, an imam,[4] whose sermons were attended by three of the nineteen 9/11 hijackers, and whose personal website was used to encourage Muslims across the world to kill U.S. troops in Iraq. Al-Awlaki was quick to praise the actions of Hasan in the Fort Hood shooting. That connection with the imam and that praise coming from him strongly suggest that the massacre had a strong religious dimension to it. We remind ourselves that the apocalyptic event of 9/11, 2001 (in which two 747s brought down the Twin Towers in Lower Manhattan and three thousand innocent human beings) was more a religious than a political statement; at the end of the day it was a stout proclamation that “Outside the Mosque there is no salvation!”
See what Allah does when Islamic extremists play king-on-the-hill in His name: He flees from them and with Jesus hides Himself up in the mountains.
Salvation outside the Synagogue!

It is noteworthy that Judaism does not claim that outside the Synagogue there is no salvation. The Talmud, for example, says that all righteous people of any religion, who observe the basic laws of morality, are saved. That’s a relativist approach to religion; it says, “I have my faith, you have your faith, and others have their faith.” On the other hand, there is the triumphalist approach to religion. That’s the approach of Christianity claiming outside the Church there is no salvation. That’s also the approach of Islam claiming outside the Mosque there is no salvation. Bernard Lewis, British-American historian, Orientalist, and political commentator, in his book What Went Wrong? writes that the triumphalist approach has Christianity and Islam shouting at each other: “I’m right, you’re wrong, go to hell!” The triumphalist approach, however, is increasingly under attack in Christendom and is rejected now by many Christian clergymen. But there is very little sign that anything like that is happening in Islam.
The birthday of a great man

Next Tuesday, November 25, is the birthday of a great man who was born poor like Jesus, 128 years ago in 1881. Many of us very senior citizens were fortunate enough to be his contemporaries, and we remember him with deep affection. His name was Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli. He was born in a little Italian village called Bergamo Sotto il Monte (Bergamo at the Foot of the Mountain). Though born at the foot of the hill, he made it to the top. On October 28, 1958, Cardinal Roncalli was elected pope and took the name of John XXIII. On November 4, the day of his coronation, a crown was placed upon his head. In his homily that day the new pope said that he had in mind the example of the Good Shepherd who came not to be served as kings are served but to serve.

The day after his coronation, John sped off through elaborate Vatican gates to put his money where his mouth was. He visited aging brother priests in nursing homes. He visited inmates in the nearby Regina Coeli Prison along the Tiber. “I come to you,” he told them, “because you couldn’t come to me.” When he celebrated his first Holy Thursday as pope, he revived an ancient custom of the church; like Jesus John girded himself with a towel and bent down to wash the feet of 13 young priests. (That foot-washing rite had fallen into disuse for many centuries, and the disuse itself was symptomatic of a prevailing institutional attitude.)

Pope John’s example emanating from the lofty height of the Petrine throne drew the whole church and world. It drew Morris West, an Australian writer (1916-1999) famous especially for his books The Devil’s Advocate and The Shoes of the Fisherman. In A View from the Ridge he writes, “I believe I can say with certainty that I remained in communion with the Church even when the Church itself excluded me[5], and I remain there still, principally because of the presence of John XXIII, the Good Pastor, whom I never met, though I did meet his predecessor (Pius XII) and his successor (John Paul II). Goodness went out from this man to me. I acknowledged it then. I acknowledge it again.”
Conclusion
The game according to Jesus and John

When Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, born in Bergamo at the Foot of the Mountain, made it to the top of the hill as John XXIII, he, like Jesus, played a completely new game of King-on-the-Hill. In the old game, when you got to the top, you drove everyone down. In the new game when Jesus got to the top -- when He was lifted up on the Hill of Calvary -- He drew everyone up to Himself. (Jn 12:32) Like Jesus, when John got to the top he, too, played the game in an entirely new way. From the lofty height of the Petrine throne he showed the church and all of us how much more blessed it is to draw people up than to drive them down.


[1] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24
[3] In his encyclical Quas Primas (December 11, 1925)
[4] an Islamic clergyman
[5] Though West was and always remained a Catholic, his various writings contain a good deal of criticism about the church, and the church was not always pleased with him.