May we pray.
We praise thee, O God: we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship thee, the Father everlasting. To thee all Angels cry aloud; the Heavens, and all the Powers therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry, Holy, Holy, Holy : Lord God of Sabaoth, Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty of thy glory. The glorious company of the Apostles praise thee. The goodly fellowship of the Prophets praise thee. The noble army of Martyrs praise thee. The holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge thee; The Father of an infinite Majesty; Thine honorable, true, and only Son; Also the Holy Ghost, the Comforter. Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ. Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father. When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man thou didst not abhor the Virgin's womb. When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers. Thou sittest at the right hand of God, in the glory of the Father. We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge. We therefore pray thee, help thy servants, whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood. Make them to be numbered with thy Saints in glory everlasting.
O Lord, save thy people and bless thine heritage. Govern them, and lift them up for ever. Day by day we magnify thee; And we worship thy Name ever, world without end. Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without sin. O Lord, have mercy upon us, have mercy upon us. O Lord, let thy mercy lighten upon us as our trust is in thee. O Lord, in thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded. (“Te Deum,” Book of Common Prayer)
Amen.
The great hymn of the church known as the “Te Deum” is
perhaps the greatest Christian hymn of praise ever penned. It is certainly the oldest still in regular
usage, attributed variously to Saints Ambrose, Augustine, and Hilary, and to
Nicetas, bishop of Remesiana, in any case dating to the fourth century. The text, in any of myriad musical settings,
is frequently programmed in worship services that extol the greatness of God as
reflected in the greatness of some human personage. The election of a pope, the consecration of a
bishop, or the canonization of a saint are all highly appropriate occasions for
a “Te Deum,” and it has been known to be used on secular occasions as well,
such as the announcement of a peace treaty or the coronation of a king or
queen. You may be interested to know, particularly
if you are Catholic, that a plenary indulgence is available if you are present
in a recitation or solemn chant of the “Te Deum” on New Year’s Eve.
Given the many images of the kingship of Christ in the “Te
Deum,” with attendant symbols of judge, governor, and lord, it is also highly
appropriate to sing this great hymn today, on Christ the King Sunday. Thanks be to God for liturgically sensitive
church musicians! Indeed, for the
offertory today, the Marsh Chapel Choir, under the direction of Dr. Scott Alan
Jarrett, and with Mr. Justin Thomas Blackwell at the organ, will offer a setting
of the “Te Deum” hymn by Franz Joseph Haydn.
Commissioned by Empress Marie Therese, wife of Franz I of Austria, this
particular setting is notable for being an entirely choral work, lacking in the
virtuosic solo lines characteristic of Haydn, and for its setting in the key of
C major, often associated with music for great feasts of the church. Furthermore, this setting is in the hallmark
form of the classical era, namely the concerto, with two sprightly passages
surrounding a central slow movement.
Okay, end of music history lesson. What does any of this have to do with
anything? The “Te Deum” is textually a
hymn of praise, and this has deep resonances on this day when we extol Christ
as king. The feast of Christ the King is
celebrated interdenominationally among Catholics and Protestants on the last
Sunday of the Christian year, which is to say the Sunday before the first
Sunday of Advent. Furthermore, Christ as
king has deep resonances with the Eastern Orthodox symbol of Christos
Pantokrator, which may be translated as Christ almighty or Christ in judgment,
and is depicted here at Marsh Chapel in our rose window at the front of the
sanctuary.
Praise is, ultimately, the most appropriate response of
subjects for their rulers. This is both
because rulers provide so many benefits to their subjects and because rulers
are in their very nature majestic and glorious, and thus deserving of
praise. It is little wonder that in the
pre-Christian Roman Empire the emperors were understood to be gods. When Christianity came along, the Judaic emphasis
on the sovereignty of God over against all earthly temporal powers meant that
emperors, kings, and other rulers could no longer be gods in their own right,
but could nevertheless rule by “divine right.”
Of course this also meant that God could, in theory, and according to
the historical record apparently in practice, withdraw the divine favor of a
particular ruler and bestow it upon another.
This is how you get changes of dynasties in medieval European feudalism. Kingship in Christendom, as it turns out, has
its ups and downs.
Jesus certainly knew about the ups and downs of kingship, as
evidenced by the texts read today from the gospel according to St. John and
from the Revelation to St. John. On
behalf of Dean Hill, allow me to remind us that these are not the same
John! In the passage from Revelation, we
get the upside of the story. Jesus is
king of the kingdom of Christians, and in fact ruler of the kings of the earth,
i.e. king of kings. Here is not the
historical Jesus but rather the cosmic figure of Christos Pantokrator, Christ
who rides in out of eternity on the clouds in judgment of the tribes of the
earth. In the Gospel of John we get the
downside. It turns out that being a king
is a significant part of what got Jesus killed at the hands of the rulers of
his day. The problem, it turns out, is
that Jesus finds himself out of his kingdom, and he is not the king of the
world in which he finds himself, but this has not stopped people from
attributing kingship to him, making the rulers of the world highly
anxious. Let this be a lesson to you
kings out there: if you are a king, stay put in your kingdom!
I would hazard to guess that many of you are feeling quite
ambivalent about all of this talk of kingship only a few short weeks after we
in the United States of America have participated in that hallmark of our
democratic republic, namely electing our leaders to office. Indeed, what could the notion of kingship
possibly mean for us in the land that rebelled against King George III? We noted earlier that kings are to be praised
both for the benefits they bestow on their subjects and for their innate
majesty and glory. These notions are
nonsensical amidst the logic of our democratic republic. Surely, here in the USA we believe that
people are personally responsible and should pull themselves up by their
bootstraps so that they are not dependent on the beneficence of
government. And recently disclosed
improprieties of a certain general turned spy-master only serve to remind us
that our leaders all too frequently fail to achieve even the standards of basic
morality, let alone ever being considerable in terms of glory and majesty.
Or do we? Do we really
believe in rugged individualism and the fallibility of our leaders, or in our
heart of hearts do we aspire to something more like the kingship model?
Hanging out in stained glass toward the rear of Marsh Chapel
on the pulpit side is the stentorian statesman Abraham Lincoln. He made it into stained glass here because he
fulfilled the abolitionist vision of the founders of Boston University through his
work to abolish slavery. The recently
released feature-length film Lincoln
chronicles his political machinations and negotiations eventually leading to
the passage of the 13th amendment to the United States Constitution
outlawing slavery and involuntary servitude.
The Lincoln memorial in Washington, DC, dedicated in 1922, was designed
by Henry Bacon in the form of a Greek Doric temple containing a large, seated
sculpture of Lincoln by Daniel Chester French and inscriptions from Lincoln’s Gettysburg and Second Inaugural addresses.
In some states, Lincoln’s birthday is celebrated as a holiday. Or should I say holy day?
So, is Abraham Lincoln a king? Applying a strict definition from political
theory, certainly not. The new film is
based in part on Doris Kearns Goodwin’s biography of Lincoln, entitled Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of
Abraham Lincoln. The title of the
book makes it clear that Lincoln was not a king in the political sense, as it
is his ability to get things done amidst competing interests, and despite the
limits of presidential power, that makes Lincoln exceptional. But in other respects Lincoln may best be
interpreted as a king. His rhetorical
skill inspired hearts across divisions of race, gender, class, and
religion. His assassination made him a
martyr and bestowed upon him mythical status in the United States and
abroad. Looking back across time,
Lincoln may be understood as a king in the two senses outlined above. He achieved great benefit for his people by
virtue of his political skill, particularly for slaves, but for the United
States as a whole also through his projects of reconstruction and vision for
reintegration of the divided union. And
his soaring rhetoric and towering stature have been imprinted on the American
imagination as signs of majesty and glory, as evidenced in stained glass, film,
and monument.
There are other figures in U.S. history who might be
considered under this rubric of kingship: George Washington, Franklin
Roosevelt, Martin Luther King, Jr. It is
not the case that any of these men was perfect or otherwise unambiguous. However, the particular focus afforded by the
lenses of history has left us with visions of them that are truly praiseworthy.
I wonder if, political predilections for democratic order
aside, there might not be something far deeper in the human condition and
psyche that desires a king to rule over us.
I have a sneaking suspicion that there is, and that the “Te Deum” text
points to this something deeper in the symbols of judgment, governing, and
lordship. Judgment is the measurement of
the difference between the ideal of grace and the reality of sin. Governance is the ordering of relations such
that grace might be maximized and sin minimized. Lordship is the power to make changes based
on judgments and to bring about rightly ordered relationships. Judicial, legislative, executive. Far from the supposed American ideal that we
do not need government because we are self-reliant and because governments are
made up of other humans just as fallen as we ourselves, the “Te Deum” gives
voice to that part of us that desires just what we proclaim to deny.
Peter Berger, University Professor Emeritus here at Boston University,
wrote forty-some-odd years ago about religion as masochistic. By this he means that in religious life we
give ourselves over to something else, something greater, that can in some way
effect an overarching meaning amidst a sea of seeming meaninglessness
otherwise. Indeed, that is at least one
of the things that we do when we gather together on Sunday mornings. We give ourselves over to God, who benefits
us by providing us with a sense of meaning, order, and purpose, and who is
majestic and glorious, and therefore praiseworthy. This probably seems at least somewhat okay in
relation to God. Much more troubling for
most of us is the fact that we essentially do the same thing with
government. We give ourselves over to a
state that we believe can guarantee us some benefit and that seems to us in
some way to be glorious and majestic. This
is the social contract. In the case of
monarchies, that glory and majesty is connected to the divine right of
royalty. In the democratic model, the
glory and majesty of government derives from the glory and majesty of the human
person, perhaps instilled by God.
The problem with a truly democratic government is that in
order to fulfill our desire for kingship in terms of justice, governance, and
lordship, 100% of the people must be 100% responsible 100% of the time. In a monarchy, only one person must be 100%
responsible 100% of the time, but if he or she screws it up, or at least if
people find out that he or she screwed it up, it’s all over. The problem is that there has never been a
single human being, let alone a whole population of them, who has been able to
be 100% responsible 100% of the time. As
the apostle to the gentiles tells us in the epistle to the Romans, “All have
sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
Modern democratic republics have tried to mediate this problem by
allowing for minimal levels of irresponsibility that can be counterbalanced by the
checks and balances built into the governance model. Sadly, as evidenced by the general turned
spy-master mentioned earlier, we seem not to actually be able to tolerate the
minimal levels of irresponsibility our system of government seeks to
afford. We aspire to more. We aspire to perfection. We seek a guarantee of order and meaning over
against our uncertainty of each other and ourselves.
This past summer we heard a series of sermons on
apocalyptic. The apocalyptic worldview,
that says that the guarantee of order and meaning is not possible in this world
but is readily available in the next, is one Christian response to the problem
of irresponsible government. Another is
the shift from the divinity of emperors themselves to their ruling rather by
divine right, which could be taken away.
A third is the perspective that the image of God in human nature is
obscured by sin, thus negating the possibility of fully effective human
institutions. In all cases, the
Christian witness is that it is God who is our guarantee. Ultimately, it is God who is our king, who
judges us with perfect justice, governs us with perfect wisdom, and rules over
us with perfect power, and so who is glorious and majestic. No worldly power could possibly aspire to
God’s perfection. And so today, Christ
the King Sunday, we give our sinful and broken selves over to God who alone can
help us, can save us, can redeem us, can lift us up forever, and open the
kingdom of heaven to us.
Amen.
