Empires come and go

A sermon for the congregation of St. Saviour Anglican Church, Penticton BC
Sunday, November 24^th, 2024
Festival of the Reign of Christ

First off, happy patronal festival to St. Saviour’s congregants gathered online or here in the room today. I had hoped to say something about your name, prompted in part by a question from a catholic friend: “Who is St. Saviour?” Certainly not the Spanish Jesuit St. Francis Xavier who lived as a Roman Catholic missionary in the 1500s. I have been unsuccessful in determining why some churches are so named. I have consulted; I have discovered that your original patronal feast was Holy Cross Day (Sept 14); you moved it to today, so here we are; Happy St. Saviour’s Day.

Looking to the north, in November of 1994 when I first arrived in Summerland as Rector of St. Stephen’s I announced, with some aplomb, that most of my sermons would deal with politics, religion, or sex. (I would like to say that the crowds immediately swelled — massive lie.) I can say with certainty that with the first two, I succeeded; with the third, well, not so much.

I am justified in making such a claim because each of these three foci deal with the use, or abuse, of power. In his three years of public ministry, Jesus dealt with the first two de rigeur. With the third, he remained mostly mute through to the bitter, crucified end. Tell that to the anti 2SLGBTQI+ folks. To the imbalances of power He would return over and over again. The haughty will be brought low; welcome the little children; meet the so-called sinner on level ground. Over and over again.

Today, as we celebrate the festival of the Reign of Christ, formerly named the Feast of Christ the King, we look back over another year of lectionary readings as we have moved through the liturgical seasons and Holy days. We are reminded of the witness and presence of Jesus as He walked the shores, mountain-tops, and the town and city streets of what we now call the Holy Land. Through the language of “reign” we allude to a particular “Kingship,” not a measure of human power-politic, but a meeting point of Divine essence and created matter.

In the Second Book of Samuel we find a description of Godly power: “The God of Israel has spoken, the Rock of Israel has said to me: One who rules over people justly, ruling in the fear of God, is like the light of morning, like the sun rising on a cloudless morning, gleaming from the rain on the grassy land. (2 Sam 23:1-7) It’s a description of a perfect leadership, one which sits in sharp contrast to what I see globally, and yes, especially south of the Canada-US border. I find a recent article in The Tyee compelling and instructive for us today:

“A group of techno oligarchs (Elon Musk and company) have endorsed a postmodernist president that fellates microphones and praises missions to Mars. His committed supporters include ultra-nationalist and Christian revolutionary cadres that admire the tyrant Vladimir Putin. Many of these revolutionaries view Putin as the man who will save civilization from western decadence. They call themselves traditionalists and avatars of post-liberalism. They want to restore the spiritual life and energy of a nation wounded by globalism and degenerate liberalism.”

I dare to include this quote given its frequent references to “the spiritual life and energy of a nation.” When we speak of “spirituality” we think of liturgy, scripture, tradition, and prayer. Others it seems, think otherwise. The “battle lines”—if you will—between church and state in America, and to an extent Canada, have been redrawn.

At a recent meeting of Anglicans (including a few from St. Saviour’s), all of us living along Highway 97 from Summerland down to Osoyoos (itself a border town), I found myself thinking about how we as “church” connect (or fail to connect) with the communities we call home. I found much of the conversation to circle around the ubiquitous Anglican question: how do we do the same old things, in a slightly different way (so as not to offend anyone), in order to provide any relevant ministry beyond the rites of passage (Baptism, Matrimony, Last rites), or to preserve the tradition of “church as sanctuary.”

There is an obvious tension between the promised Kingdom of God and the organization of earth’s administrations. This tension is on full display throughout the Book of Revelation. In the book’s opening verses “timeless love” speaks to us who are presently bounded by time and circumstance. As in the Lord’s Prayer, the distinction between earth and heaven is clearly put:

“Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.”

So if Grace is offered to us here and now, how in the Name of Jesus can we proceed and live (in the words of the Book of Common Prayer) “a devout, religious, and holy life?” Well, as I often say to folks in distress, we are not alone. I remember years ago visiting a parishioner in a psychiatric ward. She admitted that she could no longer pray. In one of my truly inspired moments (pastoral care has never been my strength) I said “that’s just fine; we will pray for you. Over time she made a good recovery.

The Patmos Pastor (John) gives two specific assurances of comfort and strength:

“To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” Good so far . . . John turns next to a powerful image, sometime in the future:

“Look! He (Jesus) is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail. So it is to be. Amen.” (1:4B-8)

In the heated context of Emperor Nero’s Rome, (37-68 CE) “them’s fighting words.” No wonder John retreated to a Greek island in the Aegean Sea to receive God’s revelation. As one commenter puts it: “It takes a lot of not only trust but audacity to see something that seemingly betrays your lived reality.” Audacity indeed.

Empires come and empires go: Rome; Charlemagne; Britain, Spain and Portugal. Globally the empire that dominates us most now is that of neoliberalism and consumerism. A few days ago I attended a book launch: Faithful, Creative, Hopeful: Christianity in a Crisis-Shaped World” by Jesse Zink, Principal of Montreal Ecumenical Theological College. (Your former rector, Nick Pang is a recent graduate.) In his book Jesse demonstrates the importance of the Christian gospel and its witness to the flourishing of human societies. Zink offers 15 theses—echoing those of the church reformers—that together offer a vision for a renewed faith and a renewed church in this crisis-shaped world.

As all South Okanagan Anglicans work to discover next steps for our region and congregations, Jesse Zink responds to the question: what must be done. We struggle with a similar question how shall we do it. See what happens. Blessings on your journey.