“More Than a Superhero” 22 November 2009

Pastor Shelley Cunningham John 18:33-37

Our 6th graders have been focusing on the Bible this fall in confirmation. We just started in on the New Testament. Last Wednesday, I asked them to tell me what they knew about Jesus. It turns out they knew a bunch – where he was born, how he died, that he healed the sick, that he fed 5000 people with only a few loaves and fish. We made a nice list up on the white board. And then I asked, so who is Jesus to you? Answering that question wasn’t so easy.

We decided that Jesus seems kind of like a superhero. Superheroes swoop in and save the day, after all. They’re defenders of truth and justice. They have awesome powers and people love them. Pretty sweet, right? There’s just one problem: superheroes aren’t real. Everybody knows that. They’re just stories, fantasy characters we meet in comic books or movies or video games, and at the end of the tale you put the story away and go back to your normal everyday life.

I wonder how many folks think about Jesus in those terms – oh, they believe that he was probably a real person, that he lived and taught and healed and performed miracles. But that was a long time ago. He’s not real to them right now. Instead, he’s more of a superhero – a great story, but not really someone they can relate to – certainly not one with much relevance today. Does Jesus ever seems like that to you?

The thing is, we want Jesus to be a superhero. We like it when he sticks up for the little guy. We cheer when he takes it to the tax collectors and Pharisees. We marvel at how he walked on water or stilled the storm or raised Lazarus from the dead. If we get in a pickle and have to call on someone for help, this is exactly the kind of savior we want: strong, impressive. But is that really who Jesus is? Is that all we need him to be?

Today is Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday in the church year. It looks to the day when the King of Kings and Lord of Lords will come in power and majesty to judge and rule the earth. A superhero sort of day if ever there was one. So with that image in mind I wonder why the passage from John was chosen for today’s gospel reading. It just doesn’t make sense. I mean, there’s one person who looks like a king in this story, and Jesus isn’t it. The Roman governor Pilate is the one behind the marble desk, with the bodyguards and the calendar full of important meetings and PR appearances. Jesus is a roughed-up blue-collar worker with a bloody lip and dirty tunic.

You can almost hear Pilate let out a sigh when Jesus is brought in the room. He doesn’t have time for playing political games with the Jewish leaders. He doesn’t want to get involved in a religious turf war. All he wants to do is render judgment and get on with his day. He ticks through a list of questions: who are you, why are you here, what have you done. But Jesus is elusive. Are you the king of the Jews? Pilate asks. You say that I am. Well, what have you done? If I had done anything, there would be a fight. So you are a king? My kingdom is not from this world.

These responses aren’t exactly the bold words of a hero, are they? If Jesus were ever going to impress anybody, now would be the time. But Pilate is as bored and impassive at the end of the interview as he is at the beginning. So what does this say about the King of Kings? Could it be that there’s more to Jesus than being powerful and larger than life? That we need him to be more than someone who swoops in to save the day?

Let’s take another look at the vision in Daniel 7. Daniel was a prophet living in exile during the Babylonian exile. Much the book has to deal with the kings of this world and the pain they have brought on God’s people. He has many visions about what will happen with these kingdoms. In this chapter, he’s having a nightmare. He’s drowning in fear and suffering that has been brought on by evil, bad luck and tyranny. There doesn’t seem to be much reason for hope. When will the hard times end? Who will save him? Maybe you know the feeling if you’ve been keep up at night worrying about the economy or random acts of violence or terrorism or pandemic flu. Enough bad news makes you frantic for a word of hope. In the passage we read today, that word comes when Daniel see that despite the danger and uncertainty, God, the Ancient One, is on the throne. He’s got power and might and everything under control. But in Daniel’s vision, though this reassurance is nice, the people still need something more. They need God to be with them. Not in some faraway heaven, ruling from on high, but walking among them, showing them how to live, cheering them on, keeping them close. This God has to look and feel and talk and move like us. He has to be real. And so God sends one “who looks like a human being” to come “with the clouds of heaven.” This one shares God’s dominion, yet also shares the people’s suffering. As Christians we hear “Immanuel,” God with us. This God can save us; this God can show us the way.

This God in Christ can’t do any of those things, though, if he’s not real to us. If we keep him at arms’ length or see him simply as some character in a book. It isn’t enough for Jesus to be a superhero whose adventures exist only in our heads. He needs to be as important and alive and actual as the flesh-and-blood person sitting in the pew next to you this morning. That’s one reason why Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ created such a visceral reaction when it was released a few years back. The graphic description of Jesus’ crucifixion was hard to watch because it seemed so real.

What keeps Jesus from being real for you? For me, it’s hearing stories in bits and pieces, a couple of verses in John one week, a snippet from Mark the next, with little to no context or connection that brings the story to life. But when I read the Bible in bigger chunks, the story comes together and Jesus comes alive. This happened to a college friend of mine named Shannon. She’d gone to church off and on growing up, but never really connected with God much. But after she’d gotten married and had her first child, she found herself wishing for a deeper sense of purpose in her life. One night she was up feeding the baby. The only thing within reach was a family Bible. She flipped open to the gospel of Luke and started reading. And by midway through the gospel, she had fallen in love with the person of Jesus and couldn’t wait to get to know him better.

I want to challenge you to read through that gospel of Luke. Do it in one sitting, if possible. Starting next Sunday we’ll be spending the year following passages from Luke. Reading the book straight through helps you can see Jesus in context. It gives you a sense of why he did what he did, what he wanted his disciples to know, how come he drew so many to him. If you’re read it before, do it again. We can all afford to spend a little time with Jesus. Because the more you read, the more your perspective one who Jesus is begins to be transformed.

You see, my friends, it’s not Jesus who changes when he becomes real in your life. It’s you. It’s you who will see the world in a new way, you who will find peace in your heart, you who will have hope when life seems hopeless. When Jesus stops being the main character in an interesting storybook and starts being your companion, your friend, your love – that is when your life starts to make sense in a way it never did before. Because we need more than a just a superhero who swoops in to save the day. We need a savior. And that savior is Immanuel, God with us, the Lord of Lords: Jesus, Christ the King. Amen.

GUIDED BY THE GOSPEL: GATHERING • GROWING • GIVING