Sermon for Christ the King, 20th November 2022

Christ King

I don’t think there’s any doubt that the greatest tragedy of the Church, and its greatest collective sin, is that it is so divided. And it is tragic, both for the Church and for the world that, over the years, Christians have been so unable and so unwilling to love one another as Christ commanded us to, that we’ve allowed the Church to separate into various denominations and have been so pompous and so arrogant in our own beliefs and opinions that we’ve been unwilling to unify the Church unless it’s on our own terms. In other words, unless all other Christians agree that we were right all along and agree to do things our way.

But have you ever stopped for a moment to consider just how ridiculous our arguments are? Have you ever stopped to consider just how pompous and arrogant we are when we take part in these arguments? And they are ridiculous, and we are arrogant and pompous. Just think about it. We all believe in the same God and claim to be disciples of the same Lord Jesus Christ, so what are we arguing about? We argue about worship. We all agree that we should worship the Lord, but we argue about how we should worship him and in our arrogance, we say that our way is the right way. In effect, in our arrogance and spiritual pride, we say that our worship is more acceptable to God than anybody else’s worship. We argue about the Scriptures. We all agree that the Scriptures are the word of God, but we argue about how to interpret Scripture and we insist that our interpretation is the right one. In effect, in our pomposity, we make our words, the word of God. And we all agree that we’re disciples of Christ, followers of Christ. But, because we argue about Scripture, we put our own interpretation on Christ’s teaching and example and so, far from being his followers, in our pomposity and arrogance, we make him, our follower. In effect, we make the one whom we acclaim today as our King, our subject. And perhaps one of the most ridiculous of our arguments, the one in which our pomposity, arrogance, not to mention our pettiness is shown in all it’s perverted glory, is the argument about whether or not we should call priests ‘father’.

I’m sure we all know the saying of Jesus that we should call no one father, and people jump on this as scriptural evidence that it’s wrong to call priests ‘father’, and that this teaching comes from Jesus himself. But this is really nothing other than people cherry picking the Scriptures, taking a few words of Scripture out of context to make them say what they want them to say rather than what they actually mean.

These words of Jesus, from the Gospel of St Matthew, were spoken in the context of Jesus warning his disciples to beware the hypocrisy and pride, both human and spiritual, of the Scribes and Pharisees. They liked to be addressed in these terms to flaunt their importance before their human audience. As Jesus said of them,

“They do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honour at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brothers. And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven. Neither be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Christ. The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

It’s in this sense, and this sense only, that Jesus prohibits calling people ‘father’, and ‘rabbi’ and ‘instructor’. And to say otherwise is really quite ridiculous because to do so makes Jesus himself both a heretic and a  hypocrite. Does not God, in the commandments, call our earthly parents our ‘father and mother’? So if we take Jesus’ words here literally, he is clearly and openly questioning the word of God. And doesn’t Jesus himself, both in arguments with the Pharisees and in the parables refer to Abraham as ‘father’, as does his mother, Mary, in the scriptural song we know as the Magnificat? And there are numerous examples in the New Testament of the early Christians calling the Apostles and their successors ‘father’.

So when we look at these words of Jesus in their proper context, it’s very easy to see that he does not prohibit the calling of priests ‘father’. And if did, neither should we call anyone ‘teacher’ or ‘instructor’ either, but do we ever hear anyone who says it’s wrong to call a priest ‘father’ also saying it’s wrong to call someone who educates children a teacher, or someone who shows people how to drive a car an instructor? We don’t do we. And so this argument is shown up for what it often really is – a distortion of Scripture to support anti- Roman Catholic prejudice. An arrogant attempt to prove that ‘we’, those who don’t want to call priests ‘father’, are right, and ‘they’, those who do call priests ‘father’, are wrong.

But if those on this side of the argument can be accused of arrogance, then those on the other side of the argument can often be accused of pomposity. For example, not long after I’d been ordained a priest, the vicar of the ultra-Anglo-Catholic church where I was the curate, overheard the head server, a really lovely old fellow in his early 70s called Tom, call me by my name, Steve. And the vicar was not happy, and he left both Tom and I in no doubt about that; Tom for not calling me ‘father’ and me for not correcting him when he didn’t. How ridiculous. If we want to be pedantic about these things, the official title of a priest is Reverend, it becomes that when we’re ordained. So, strictly speaking, people should call me Reverend Smith, but hardly anyone ever does. If people want to call me ‘father’ that’s OK by me, but if they don’t, that’s equally OK by me. If they want to call me ‘vicar’ that’s OK too because that’s what I am, although I do know one priest who used to object to being called a vicar because, as he always was very quick to point out, he was not a vicar, he was a rector! I think the ridiculous pomposity of that statement speaks for itself. And does it really matter? Surely there are far more important things for us, for all of us, to be concerned with and about than whether we call priests ‘father’ or not.

There are many ways I could have illustrated the ridiculous nature of the things Christians argue about and the arrogance and pomposity that lies behind the attitudes that cause these arguments, but I’ve used this one because it is a common one and one of the most ridiculous of all. And I’ve spoken about it today because it shows just how far short we are of being the true disciples of Christ we should be, and just how far short we are of being the loyal subjects of the one we acclaim as Christ our King.

If we acclaim Christ as our King then we should subject ourselves to his rule, and that means doing things his way, rather than our own way. It means obeying his commandments rather than making our own up and passing them off as his. And one of the most important of those commandments, the most important when to comes to the way we behave towards one another, is to love one another as we love ourselves. The fact that the Church is divided, is becoming increasingly divided and shows no real sign of becoming the one Church that Christ himself called it to be is a direct result of the fact that down the centuries Christians haven’t loved one another as they should have done, and still don’t today.

If we are ever going to be the one Church that Christ our King called us to be, we’re going to have to put an end to our ridiculous arguments and petty squabbles. We’re going to have to love one another as Christ our King commanded us to. And that means we’re going to have to lose our arrogance and pomposity. And Christ the King himself is our example in doing this.

I’ve spoken today about our arguments about the name, the title we give to priests. But just think about some of the names, the titles, given to Jesus in the Scriptures. He is the Messiah, or the Christ (and that is his title, not his name), the Anointed One. He is the Holy One of God, the Son of the Most High. He is Immanuel, God with us, Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and yes, the Messiah, Jesus himself is called ‘father’ in the Scriptures too, and Prince of Peace. He’s called Lord and Master, King of Kings. In fact, Jesus is given over 150 titles in the Scriptures, the vast majority of which are high and mighty titles, all of which are rightly his because, as he himself said,

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”

And yet he regarded himself as, and called himself, a servant, a slave. He was, and is, a King higher and mightier than any earthly ruler has ever been or could ever aspire to being, and yet he was willing to subject himself to a life of hard work, discipline and obedience, for our sake. He was willing to give up everything, even human wealth and comforts for our sake. He was willing to suffer the shame and humiliation, and the agony, of the Cross for us, for his subjects. He was and is a King higher and mightier than any earthly ruler could ever aspire to being and yet was there ever an earthly ruler who was so humble as Christ the King? What earthly king or ruler would listen to and grant the request of a condemned criminal who called on them, not by any of their lofty titles, but simply by name, as Jesus did for the man who hung beside him on a cross?

When we think of who Jesus is, and the earthly life he led for our sake, how can we drag his name and the name and reputation of his Church through the dirt and bring his kingdom into disrepute in the way we do by our self-righteous pride and the ridiculous arguments it causes? How can we acclaim Christ as our King and then ignore his commandment to love one another and his own example of how to do that? How can we be so arrogant, so pompous, and so petty as to do all these things and yet still claim to be his loyal subjects?

Amen.


The Propers for Christ the King can be viewed here.