Sermons - November 2024

HOLY COMMUNION, ST. COLUMBA'S, PONT STREET
SUNDAY 24th NOVEMBER 2024 11.00 A.M.
(CHRIST THE KING SUNDAY)

Pilate asked Jesus, “So you are a king?”
Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. John 18

A journalist once described a scene from a cosmopolitan city park –
London, New York, Glasgow?
In the shade of trees, gathered round rough tables and chairs,
a small crowd of spectators.
In their midst, two opponents, toe to toe;
divided by the breadth of a chess board.
Each move followed by the press of the time clock – pressure back on the adversary.
Each click of their manoeuvring pieces studied by the bystanders –
shared glances, a knowing smile, a shake of the head, a roll of the eyes.

What the journalist observed is that there comes a moment
when one or two in the crowd will realise that the game is finished –
not necessarily immediately, but in the moves that will inevitably follow.
A quiet ripple amongst the onlookers: That’s it.
Victory or defeat. That’s it.
Something understood, even perhaps before the players themselves understand
the final “Checkmate.”
Is it fanciful to consider ourselves as similar spectators
to the scripture shared this morning –
onlookers/listeners to the gospel’s very own Game of Thrones?

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus,
and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

In the early light of that Passover morning,
the two grandmasters could not have appeared less evenly matched.
One decked in the finery of the greatest empire the world had ever known;
think Gladiator – “Are you not entertained?!”
The other, arrested, dishevelled, sleep-deprived,
one eye perhaps swollen closed, because of the beating he has already taken.
Pilate, prefect of the province of Judea,
mediating Rome’s control over this small but strategically vital corner of empire.
On the chess board, guarded by knight-centurions, castles
and plenty loyal foot soldiers.
Across from him – the lone, remaining, abandoned piece - all others removed.
No moves left, King reduced to pawn.

That’s it. Surely. To Pilate, to Caesar, to Caiaphas - the victory.
For the Carpenter, check mate; dead man walking;
a filthy and vicious end, only hours away.
There we have it. Captor and captive, interrogator and interrogated,
judge and judged. That’s it.
“So you are a King? Pilate asks.
It is only now, with hands bound, utterly handed over,
that Jesus accepts the royal title.
“You say that I am a king.
For this I was born, for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.
“Everyone who cares for truth, who has any feeling for the truth,
recognises my voice.” The Message

Pilate famously replies: “What is truth?”
Curious, cynical, contemptuous?
Difficult to know how Pilate spoke or meant those famous three words.
His question holds a strange modernity,
in an age of political spin, curated social media, and fake news.
“What is truth?”  

Jesus doesn’t respond.  That is, he doesn’t respond with words. 
Instead, his answer is in his silence.
He is, his reply. with the invitation to look upon his life.
“What is truth?”  “You’re looking at it.”
I am the truth. My life. My way. My love.
There, the last man standing on his side of the board –
truth’s most complete and complex embodiment.
“Everyone who cares for truth, who has any feeling for the truth,
recognises my voice.”

And somewhere in the crowd of onlookers, the penny drops.
Someone senses, that though the might of Rome will have its way,
and an innocent man will go to Golgotha,
the drama unfolded here is not the last act.
One may wield all the power; but the other has something different - authority.
That’s it! Victory and defeat is decided here in this corridor of power.
Don’t confuse success with victory, or failure with defeat.”
The head that once was crowned with thorns,
Is crowned with glory now.
A strange overthrow of the given order. A strange anthem to truth.

“So you are a king?”
If the answer is yes, why doesn’t he look more like it?
What use is this ragamuffin-royal?

Sir Chris Hoy recently made public his diagnosis of terminal cancer.
The multiple gold-medal-winning, cycling Olympian,
has spoken about his chemotherapy:
“…excruciating. It's like torture basically.” 

Like so many others, faced by one’s own mortality,
there has been a shift in perspective:
“… riding bikes for a living, you realise,
'God, that was just a bit of fun really', you know.”
In his newly released book, “All That Matters: My Toughest Race Yet”
he hopes to offer encouragement,
that people going through a similar, or different challenge, –
can get through things.
But adds: “And it doesn't mean that there's going to be a happy ending,
I'm not delusional. I know what the end result will be.
Nobody lives forever. Our time on this planet is finite.
… …
Focus on the things that are important,
focus on your family, the people in your life.
My perspective on life has changed massively.
I am more thankful, I'm more grateful for each day.
It's been a tough year and it's going to be tough ahead in the future too,
but for now, right here right now, we're doing pretty well.”

A friend echoed that recently.
Also receiving a serious diagnosis, he faces the uncertainty of his future
with the assistance of medics, a church community and his own faith.
He does not underestimate the benefits of all those things,
but he also speaks with honesty:
“I don't doubt the sincerity of my medics, my pastor, and all the "prayer warriors"
who have been so thoughtful and kind,
and have given their skills and time to me. That is love.
However, I know firsthand the limits of the medical science and of faith.
In my low moods, I just want someone to hold my hand
and sit in the silence with me.
I think that is what God is like:
watchful, brooding, silent, immanent, gentle,
grieving the brokenness of His creation.”

Is that real royalty – absolute solidarity with the human condition –
compassionate shared suffering, hope in the dark?
Or are we clutching at straws? Wishful thinking?

Are you a King, Jesus?
A good question for the concluding Sunday of the year;
for Genevieve, on the day she has made her promises as a new member at St Columba’s –
a reminder to us all, about our past, or possible future promises.
A good question for GK’ers, as you prepare to return home after time away.
Where do your loyalties lie?

Are you a King, Jesus?
In the blessing, breaking and sharing of the bread;
may we find an answer;
in the pouring out of the wine,
may we be drawn more deeply into the life and truth,
of Christ our King.