A Larger Truth
“A Larger Truth”
Christ the King/Reign of Christ, Year B November 25, 2018
2 Samuel 23:1-7 John 18:33-37
First Presbyterian Church of Sandpoint, Idaho
Pastor Andy Kennaly
I mentioned a Sunday or two ago that on Wednesday evenings I’ve been attending a writer’s group. One of the main things we do there is share writing. Someone reads what they wrote, then the group makes comments. The writer is quiet at first as the group responds, but later can share more about their writing, (the story behind the story), and take or leave whatever comments or suggestions or edits the group suggests. It’s a great format for learning and improving skills as an author.
Most of the writing that’s shared is poetry. There’s been an increase in the popularity of poetry in our culture. Much more than the dissecting and parsing out and rhyming taught in schools, reading poetry is inspiring, if you can get past the mental blocks. Maybe it’s not for everybody, or perhaps, it’s an acquired taste that gets better with age? For those who can read the lines, and hear what may be in between the lines, poetry can be very powerful as it uses metaphor and image to help make sense of life’s various shades of subtle and intense complexities. Poetry has a way of saying things that story just can’t capture. Even how the words are arranged on the page, breaking up sentences, creating stanzas, leaving open interpretations on where to emphasize as you read; poems trust the reader to interact in ways that are not forced or legislated or coerced. In this sense, there is no one way or correct way to interpret a poem, which is also risky to the author and what their original intention may be. But this risk is accepted, and actually adds to the dynamic, increasing the beauty and power of poetry as a literary genre.
These scripture scenes we read this morning on Christ the King Sunday, one from the last words of King David as shared in 2 Samuel, and the other some of the last words of Jesus as shared in the Gospel According to John; these stories have poetic qualities with all the dynamics I just mentioned as we read the lines and listen between the lines. They also exercise the process we use for thinking, and depending on the process, the scenes make sense at certain levels, or can be rather confusing.
We see King David, who is not perfect by any means, recognizing what a blessing it is to have leaders who have reverence for God, whose focus is on God through sincere ways that benefit the people. He uses imagery of thorns being tossed away as a picture of what people without hope are like. It is certainly better to have hope than not, and these last words of a faithful King sure make him look good as he hands off his divine appointment to the coming generations. When the Bible is written by the winners, they all look good, even though they were some tough characters. Yet God uses them in their context for creative purposes.
Last Sunday for the Charge and Benediction at the end of the worship service, as the light of Christ symbolized from candle, led the way out from this worship space, I proclaimed, “God is shaping all creation.” With this as the guiding principle, I also added, “Let’s be discerning of the influences which would mold us, seeking to cooperate with God’s forming us and all creation according to divine purpose and intention through the power of love.” Then we claimed God’s blessing and grace in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and out the door we went, into the week ahead to live out this charge and blessing.
Well, how’d we do? Thanksgiving Week, holiday, Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday coming up: lots going on! Were we “discerning of the influences which would mold us?” Did you seek “to cooperate with God’s forming us and all creation according to divine purpose and intention?” Was the power of love evident in your life as you navigated your way through the week, with all of the dynamics? Especially because of Thanksgiving, which often means relatives, families of origin, conversations that don’t usually take place in our normal routines, big meals, personalities that come together for visits, and other dynamics that are unique to that holiday.
It’s one thing to proclaim from this sanctuary space in the context of worship, that “God is shaping all creation,” to actually translating that into the moments of our day-to day-life. It’s harder than it sounds or looks to keep that statement, “God is shaping all creation,” in the forefront of our mind. And yet, like King David, somehow we’re called to a hope that trusts in God’s hand shaping the larger arch of history, working through creative power and grace.
The same is true for the passage from John as the Roman leader, Pilate, enters the headquarters and summons Jesus for questioning. Did you get all that? Interesting imagery: headquarters, a leader having the power to summons someone who is then brought before them to answer for themselves. Pilate thinks he is in charge! The Roman State assumes control. Maybe “presumes” would be a better word? With politics and possible treason as the measure, Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answers a question with a question, and rather than a yes or a no, he asks, if Pilate asks this on his own, or did other tell him about Jesus. This is tied to the last sentence in the passage where Jesus says, “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Does Pilate belong to the truth or not? Also, on a political level, Jesus is pointing out the fact that Pilate is Roman, occupying Jerusalem, presuming control. As Pilate rants about not being Jewish and saying Jesus’ own nation and the chief priests handed him over, he simply alienates himself all the more, showing himself to be like those thorny people in 2 Samuel, politically strong, culturally powerful, but ultimately without hope and lacking in relational trust in God, living out of great fear cloaked in the illusion of control.
Jesus is not really interested in the title of King, not in the way Pilate is using it as a political category. Jesus is interested in making evident the truth. Belonging to the truth is what helps people listen to his voice. Belonging. Not coercion, not being forced or manipulated or controlled by fear, not from occupation or the need to be different than you are. Belonging, in this sense, is a relational term, not an identity term. Identity has to do with externals, but belonging through relationship is an internal quality where superficial distinctions simply break down. In this conversation, Jesus is moving us, very poetically, from the head to the heart.
Jesus testifying to the truth. His very life is his authority as he lives and embodies truth. Truth having to do with trust, love, relationship, covenant, grace and peace beyond understanding. Jesus knows what and who he’s up against here. He is not backing down from Pilate, but through this scene and the terminology he is using, we see Jesus putting his life on the line, and welcoming that intensity without fear, because his trust in God is sure and certain and his experience in the depths of life is far more than death can contain, even death on a cross. Jesus shares a deep Wisdom, while Pilate is simply stuck with mere knowledge.
This gets to another subtle distinction. It seems like, throughout this story, Jesus and Pilate are sharing the same space, able to have a conversation, but they are on two separate wavelengths. The Kentucky farmer and author, Wendell Berry helps us decipher this multi-layered interaction by looking at two different mindsets, each with unique qualities that lead to different outcomes, experiences, and world views. In his book, Citizenship Papers, written a couple years after the 9/11 attacks, one of the essays in this collection is titled, “Two Minds” as it explores and compares the Rational Mind and the Sympathetic Mind. Exploring the ways people think, he says, “Obviously we need to use our intelligence. But how much intelligence have we got? And what sort of intelligence is it that we have? And how, at its best does human intelligence work?” (Wendell Berry, Citizenship Papers, Shoemaker and Hoard, Division of Avalon Publishing Group, Inc., 2003, pg. 87).
Let’s keep this scene of Jesus and Pilate, along with our own daily experience, in mind as he says, “…there are two different kinds of human mind: the Rational Mind and another, which, for want of a better term, I will call the Sympathetic Mind. […] The Rational Mind, without being anywhere perfectly embodied, is the mind all of us are supposed to be trying to have. It is the mind that the most powerful and influential people think they have. Our schools exist mainly to educate and propagate and authorize the Rational Mind. The Rational Mind is objective, analytical, and empirical; it makes itself up only by considering facts; it pursues truth by experimentation; it is uncorrupted by preconception, received authority, religious belief, or feeling. Its ideal products are the proven fact, the accurate prediction, and the ‘informed decision.’ It is, you might say, the official mind of science, industry, and government.
“The Sympathetic Mind differs from the Rational Mind, not by being unreasonable, but by refusing to limit knowledge or reality to the scope of reason or factuality or experimentation, and by making reason the servant of things it considers precedent and higher. The Rational Mind is motivated by fear of being misled, of being wrong. Its purpose is to exclude everything that cannot be […] proven to be a fact. The Sympathetic Mind is motivated by fear of error of a very different kind: the error of carelessness, of being unloving. Its purpose is to be considerate of whatever is present, to leave nothing out. The Rational Mind is exclusive; the Sympathetic Mind, however failingly, wishes to be inclusive. […] Its impulse is toward wholeness. It is moved by affection.” (pg. 88-89).
He goes on, but it seems we get the sense of two different types of minds, and that these two are on different pages when it comes to how they work, what their motivation is, and the result they bring about as their thoughts are implemented. It seems this is part of the dynamic between Jesus and Pilate, and you can guess which one is the Rational one trying to calculate and exclude, and which one is comfortable with mystery and courageous enough to love even if it involves suffering.
In our own context the struggling and limitations of small minded thinking are all too evident and carry huge consequences. We participate, as the human species and the larger creation is groaning towards a more inclusive experience, growing into a larger mind that honors divine Presence in all things. The intense and intentional words of Jesus, that “everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice” rings all the more loudly as we seek to follow Jesus on the Way, the Path, the journey into life and wholeness in Christ.
As we reflect on this Christ the King Sunday, God’s truth is a larger truth in which belonging sets the stage for awareness as we follow Jesus, who says, “My kingdom is not from here.” Not from the world, not from the level of Pilates and states of external distinctions which deny deeper bonds. But from the divine and inclusive Source of Christ, in whom there is simply belonging, relationship, and love; and this Presence transcends dimensions, modes of thinking, and limited perceptions.
Today’s charge and benediction recognize human doubt and fear, the world seen through the Rational Mind that sees harshness and troubles. Yet we’re reminded that we are called to hope, to go in peace as citizens of Christ’s Kingdom. This involves not the arrogance of Pilate or that type of mentality that continues to this day, but the humility of a suffering servant, which comes from a deeper and more lasting tradition of Wisdom, even as the maker and ruler of all abides with us in love and power through Christ and the Holy Spirit.
As we go into an Advent season of watching, waiting, and claiming hope, love, joy, and peace, may God be glorified now, even as forever. Amen.