The power and the sauna

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Jeremiah 23:1-6, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

I was let out of St Margaret’s on Friday to join a friend at his club; to use the sauna and have some lunch. A rare break from work, you understand. I haven’t been to many saunas in the last few years, but a little while back I lived in Germany. Saunas are very inexpensive and much better there so I went quite regularly. The thing that struck me on Friday, sitting in the soupy heat, was how many men came in and read the newspaper. It’s something that would only happen in Britain. Sweating uncomfortably in 80 degree heat, low lighting, uncomfortable wooden seats; and someone pulls out, from who knows where, the Telegraph.

 While I was in Germany, I wrote a piece for a paper which argued that saunas are to be encouraged because they’re like little chapels. You can’t really do anything in the sauna. Can’t take in technology; no screens or headphones; it’s not really the done thing to start chatting, especially in Germany where clothing tends to be either optional or forbidden. So, generally, saunas are quite meditative places. And perhaps it’s the scrape of the pages, perhaps it’s the sheer ridiculousness of it, but my gentle meditative mindset does not survive the turning pages of a broadsheet.

 Now I bring this up because the feast of Christ the King is a bit marmite. It’s less than 100 years old, started by pope Pius XI, as the defensive gesture of a Church that was seeing its earthly kingdom and influence diminishing. It was also a response to anti-clericalism, which personally I’d say is a terrible, terrible crime against humanity. But at its worst Christ the King might be thought to encourage a sort of Christian triumphalism. The letter to the Colossians spoke of ‘the strength that comes from his glorious power’ and in our final hymn today, the great hymn of the resurrection, we hear ‘thine be the glory’ to an almost military march. We could be forgiven for assuming that with Christ comes terrific power. As if we could rule the world.

 It’s said that when Constantine the great Roman emperor converted to Christianity he saw a cross and the words “In this sign conquer.” The Royal Army Chaplaincy Department has taken it as their motto, Which is not unproblematic. The point the Gospels try to make, on the other hand, is that Christ’s kingship is ironic.

Now I’m on dangerous ground here. Anyone who grew up in the 90s may have had the misfortune of being misinformed as to what irony is by Alanis Morissette. So “rain on your wedding day”, infamously, is not ironic. It’s just disappointing. I’m not trying to say that Christ’s kingship is disappointing. Irony comments upon, makes us to reassess, what is being ironed/ or ironised. So rain on your wedding day is not ironic. The groom turning up grinning wearing a prison jump suit and a plastic ball and chain attached to his foot would be ironic. But ill-advised. 

The irony of Christ’s kingship is played out through his trial and crucifixion. We have this miracle worker, who’s fed thousands, healed, preached peace with divine authority, and raised the dead, under the control of a puppet jewish king and then a weak ruler who doesn’t even agree with the verdict he announces.

 It’s an interesting effect of power, even in the days of the Gospel, that it can make the powerful advocate causes they do not believe it. The need to hold on to power somehow trumps the reason to have that power. Thank goodness that would not happen today.

If you remember, Pilate asks, “What is truth?” The man of divine judgement has come under human judgement. So we see in human power, corruption, injustice and self-protection. We see in Jesus, forgiveness, even on the cross, and words of reassurance, of hope.

So when Jesus is crucified, the sign above him — which would usually describe the crime — says “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”. The irony is that it’s true, but not in the way his executioners understand it. But as a tortured, innocent man, it reveals the reality and brutality of human kingship. And against this, it reveals the humility and love of divine kingship.

The criticism of human power is unlikely to make you think twice. Power and corruption have and continue to walk hand in hand through all history. The more surprising suggestion comes with how we see divine power. We continue to desire the God who acts. If God loves then he will intervene, he will save. ‘Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ We like to think of some superdad who is good, all knowing, all powerful who protects and will keep us from harm. 

But the crucifixion turns all that upside down. There is no magic trick. Anyone who believes that if they go to Church and lead a good life, nothing bad will happen to them #blessed needs to take a good look at the crucifixion. The life we’re called to is one that mirrors Christ. And fundamentally that did not end well. And if God values truth, courage and love over health and happiness then who knows what he’ll ask of you.

 What then is the power of God? The full quote from Colossians: ‘may you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, giving thanks to the Father’. Power, strength, is being like Christ, who endured.

 So when do we know the power of God? It’s when we are weak. It’s when we’re unable to carry on; under the threat of death;in the depths of grief. When we have to throw our trust in him. 

Our offertory hymn is, I think, the greatest hymn in the English language.  In almost every line is the coincidence of opposites. We have glory and dying, riches and loss, contempt and pride, boasting and death, vanity and blood, sorrow and love, thorns and crowns. Each pair, each line, describes the transformation from human power to divine power; each line finds in the cross the unmaking of our normal standards and a new standard raised up. To sing it with faith, is to let go of ourselves and find in Christ the most incredible revelation of what life really is.  And that is love.

 For myself, I see in baptism, this same vision of divine kingship. The fragility and vulnerability of a child; no less than Christ on the cross; hovering over the water, which through the bible is a sign of both death and life; we don’t as in fairy tales promise youth, beauty, wealth. We simply mark this as a passage from death to life.

 Now Christmas as St Margaret’s starts this week with the arrival of the Christmas trees so I thought I’d share with you my favourite Christmas card poem called the Wicked Fairy at the Manger. It makes the point far better than I could:

My gift for the child: 

No wife, kids, home;
No money sense. Unemployable.
Friends, yes. But the wrong sort —
The workshy, women, wogs,
Petty infringers of the law, persons
With notifiable diseases,
Poll tax collectors, tarts;
The bottom rung.
His end?
I think we’ll make it
Public, prolonged, painful. 

 Right, said the baby. That was roughly
What we had in mind.

 Freddie, I hope will be saved this. But this is the man he is promised to follow. So Christ the King is not about the power and the glory, The Church triumphant, ‘In this sign conquer’ That sounds to my ears like the scraping of a newspaper page turning in an English sauna.

 Christ’s kingship is the power of sacrificial love; And the infinite worth of every human soul; that an anonymous criminal, a homeless vagrant, a charming toddler, a beloved brother, may be the most important person in the world. The person who is suffering, could be you, is no better nor worse than you; once was Christ. 

In St Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises, the meditations that stretch over a silent retreat of 30 days, one of the key exercises is visualising a battlefield and choosing to take yourself to the banner of Christ. To choose to follow him. To place yourself under his kingship. It’s a costly decision. It is an ironic kingship. it probably won’t end well. But it will make you a better person.

 You have probably had the canvasses at your door, with their stories and their promises. There will be banners everywhere for the next few weeks. I know who I choose as my king. Amen.