CAMINANDO WITH JESUS: Is This Your King?

Editor's Note: Caminando with Jesus is a weekly reflection on the Gospel--the writer's response to the text, a window into the encounter with Jesus in the Gospel as we strive and struggle to follow him. Many of these reflections can be shared as short homilies with congregations who do not have a cleric or a licensed lay preacher or whose preacher did not have the opportunity to write a homily that particular week. They are often catalysts for preachers in their own engagement with the Gospel text. They also help lay people prepare their hearts for their own encounter with Jesus on the coming Sunday when the Word is read and proclaimed. And at times, as in this week's installment, Caminando with Jesus is a Lament that stands squarely in the Wisdom tradition of the Bible, in which the relationship with God in the context of the moment leads people to call God out. Reminiscent of the harsh words that we find in some of the Psalms and in Job, this week's reflection takes us to a place of challenging many of our assumptions about God in the context of the rough reality in which we find ourselves. This reflection reminds me that God renamed Jacob, calling him Israel, which means "one who struggles with God."

Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

- Mark 13:24-37

In the 2018 Marvel Comics film Black Panther there is a fascinating scene where the hero, King T’Challa of Wakanda, is engaged in a ritual combat with his cousin and nemesis, N’Jadaka. The outcome of their battle will determine who sits on the throne. Initially, both characters trade blows but eventually N’Jadaka gains the advantage. As his victory becomes imminent, N’Jadaka mocks T’Challa by asking the spectating crowd of faithful Wakandans a taunting question, “Is this your king?”

“Is this your king?...Is this your king?...The Black Panther, who is supposed to lead you into the future...Him? He’s supposed to protect you...”

As we approach the beginning of Advent, the future is also on my mind. So much of the Christian faith is about the way God acts in and through time and space to bring hope to humanity. Hope is a future-oriented word. At Advent, we are called to remember the hope of those who anticipated Jesus’ birth all while hoping for and anticipating his future return.

Towards the end of this passage in Mark, Jesus describes the time of his return as knowable only by God. Therefore, he instructs his followers to “Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.”

“Beware, keep alert...”

This seems like a strange way to make people feel hopeful about you coming back to see them. Beware does not evoke hope. It does not elicit peace, joy or love. Beware is for impending danger. Beware anticipates a threat or potential harm. Beware makes me feel anxious.

Now it doesn’t make sense to be anxious for nothing. So what exactly does Jesus want us to stand guard against? What exactly do we need to beware of? As with most of his teachings, Jesus pairs his admonition to “keep alert” and “keep awake” with a parable.

“It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.”

In a country where 43% of people earn wages that leave them unable to pay for basic necessities, it is unsettling to imagine the anticipated return of Jesus as a story of late night, underpaid security guards being afraid of their boss catching them dozing off. If Jesus is the “master of the house,” why should we beware his return? Didn’t he come so that we might live life more abundantly? Does the abundant life require us to walk on pins and needles? Is vengeance really the most prominent personality trait of the One who was, and is, and is to come?

Part of me wonders how much of the anxiety I feel in reading this passage is a result of how Jesus himself felt when delivering the message. Is Jesus’ anxiety about dying on the cross being revealed in the economic anxiety of the parable? Is his own fear of death being projected onto his apocalyptic return? Is Jesus’ perception of who God is being stifled by his belief that God in fact intends for him to suffer and die? Is the path to crucifixion preventing Jesus from painting a portrait of kind, gentle and loving God?

As we think about who and what we are anticipating this coming Advent, I find value in N’Jadaka’s interrogation of the Wakandan faithful. If T’Challa was their king, but could not fulfill his duty to protect them, what kind of king was he? If God is our T’Challa, what kind of king, or queen, is God?

If God says that God is just and merciful, then we should interrogate God when we don’t find those characteristics present. If God is the God whose peace passes all understanding, then we should ask why our stories about God traffic in fear and anxiety as the means to faithful discipleship? I mean, where is the God of the sabbath? Where is the God that knows sleep and rest are integral to human flourishing?

When I think about the god depicted as the vengeful master of the house waiting to tear me to pieces for falling asleep during my third shift job paying just above minimum wage, all I can hear is the voice of N’Jadaka asking me, “Is this your king?”

Brandon J. Williams is a member of St. Titus’, Durham.