Martyrs and Kings

Every transition has an end, a middle, and a beginning. The Church Year ends with the feast of Christ the King, the Reign of Christ, a feast instituted by Pope Pius X during the rise of Fascism in Italy in the 1920s. The feast spread to many other church bodies; we celebrate it now as a reminder that God reigns, not us. The Church Year begins anew four Sundays before Christmas Day (whether it occurs on a Sunday or a week day).  

And so as we reach the end of the season that culminates in the feast of Christ the King, we find the story of Jesus about to loop around itself from the end back to the beginning: from the consummation of time to the birth of a baby. "Come thou long expected Jesus" we soon will sing. And he arrives twice! First he comes to us as the infant terrorizing Herod and again as the one before whose throne all will gather. Same person. 

Herod the Great, ruler of Palestine under Roman sponsorship -- who built the great buildings whose ruin Jesus prophesies -- got the message early and he did not like it. That earthbound despot wanted no rivals, especially legitimate ones. Some more recent sovereigns have had similar inclinations.  But God prevails. 

And that is good news that we hear today : Christ forewarned his followers of the difficulties ahead of them and yet reassured them of their ultimate vindication. And so it is when we face hard times, adversity, or mortality: we are not alone. That is why the one who comes is called "Emmanuel" - God with us.

This good news comforts the comfortable and the afflicted, the desperate and the sorrowful and the joyous alike. Since sometimes that can be all of us or any of us this is good news indeed.

That reminder that God reigns came home with force within a decade or two after the feast was first proclaimed. Among those who made it stick in hearts and minds was Kaj Munk, a Danish playwright and pastor, who wrote an impolitic play during the second World War. 

What was the point, and what was the problem, was that he uniquely compared Herod to Hitler. And this did not make the occupying army happy: indeed he was soon a martyr, murdered by the Gestapo, his body found in a ditch the morning after a midnight abduction. 

Call it an arrest or call it an abduction: it was the prelude to murder. He was not the last. Not certainly the last. There have been many martyrs and prophets since his death who have stood in front of evil and proclaimed God’s reign. 

Later in the 20th century it was Janani Luwum, Archbishop in Uganda, who confronted an evil regime with the power of love. He paid with his life. One night he was summoned to the presidential palace, and he stood right in front of his country’s ruler, Idi Amin, and refused to renounce the truth. For that he was shot and killed.

These are among the known martyrs; others are known but to God. But their work continues; their truth persists; and the culmination of this year and all years is still this: God reigns. That means that whatever claims on our allegiance are offered to us, none is as important as the integrity of the faith that God keeps with us. And that we, faltering and failing and forgiven, attempt to keep with God.  

How are we to follow this one who rejected earthly titles but is 'ruler of the kings of earth' and seated at the right hand of God? Challenging questions as we anticipate the arrival of the King of Kings.

 

The book of Daniel and the book of Revelation reveal visions of what God is doing by telling us what they see God doing in the future. In some ways the prophecies of Daniel seem like visionary accounts of what was already happening in his time while revealing what is really going on in the deep currents of time. 

For example, he speaks of four kingdoms that could be the successors to Alexander the Great. 

Indeed it was one of these, Antiochus IV Epiphanes, r. 175 BCE-164 BCE, who was the immediate enemy of Israel at the time of the book’s composition. 

Nevertheless it has implications beyond that moment, for Daniel prophesies not only what is happening, or has happened, or is going to happen, but what it means. What it means is that God reigns; not Pharaoh, not Nebuchadnezzer, not Cyrus, and certainly not Antiochus IV Epiphanes. 

 

What then is the nature of that reign? Jesus refuses the label of comparative kingship, as if he were to be a head of state alongside the clients of Rome or its rival powers. No, his kingdom is not of this world: it is a heavenly kingdom. But what is that to us? What does it mean for us? 

 

It means our loyalty lies beyond the immediate present press of events; our faith is in something transcendent, someone eternal. The Ancient of Days, in fact. The one who is and was and is to come. And in the Son of Man, who is likewise the first and the last, first born of the resurrection and witness of all that is coming to pass, has come to pass, and will come to pass.

 

And we are in their hands, ultimately; the hands of God. 

 

Our God reigns. Where does he reign? Most of all, in the human heart.

Yes, first of all in the human heart. But it does not end there: it is more than that.

When Jesus speaks of truth he speaks of what is solid, reliable, real. And it implies there is something to be done. Truth that is God made known in Jesus Christ is actionable knowledge. If you know Jesus, you act upon that knowledge.

And so when you know that truth, you have a way, a life, before you: a truth that will set you free.  Free to center your life on the abundant grace of God, revealed in Jesus Christ in its fullness. 

So as the psalm says there may be a night of sorrow but it will open into a new dawn of joy.

 

That is something people of faith have held onto, from that day to this, when that night looks black.

 

And that is the sunrise into glory that we anticipate on the feast day of Christ the King.

JRL+ 

Christ the King

Keeping the Faith: Twentieth Century Martyrs

Every transition has an end, a middle, and a beginning. The Church Year ends with the feast of Christ the King, the Reign of Christ, a feast instituted by Pope Pius X during the rise of Fascism in Italy in the 1920s. The feast spread to many other church bodies; we celebrate it now as a reminder that God reigns, not us. (The Church Year begins anew four Sundays before Christmas Day (whether it occurs on a Sunday or a week day).  And so as we approach the end of the season that culminates in the feast of Christ the King, we find the story of Jesus about to loop around itself from the end back to the beginning: from the consummation of time to the birth of a baby. "Come thou long expected Jesus" we soon will sing. And he arrives twice! First he comes to us as the infant terrorizing Herod and again as the one before whose throne all will gather. Same person. Herod the Great, ruler of Palestine under Roman sponsorship -- who built the great buildings whose ruin Jesus prophesies -- got the message early and he did not like it. That earthbound despot wanted no rivals, especially legitimate ones. Some more recent sovereigns have had similar inclinations. But God prevails. And that is part of the good news that we hear today : Christ forewarns his followers of the difficulties ahead of them and yet reassures them of their ultimate vindication. And so it is when we face hard times, adversity, or mortality: we are not alone. That is why the one who comes is called "Emmanuel" - God with us.

This good news comforts the comfortable and the afflicted, the desperate and the sorrowful and the joyous alike. Since sometimes that can be all of us or any of us this is good news indeed.

That reminder that God reigns came home with force within a decade or two after the feast was first proclaimed. Among those who made it stick in hearts and minds was Kaj Munk, a Danish playwright and pastor, who wrote an impolitic play during the second World War. What was the point, and what was the problem, was that he uniquely compared Herod to Hitler. And this did not make the occupying army happy: indeed he was soon a martyr, murdered by the Gestapo, his body found in a ditch the morning after a midnight abduction. 

Call it an arrest or call it an abduction: it was the prelude to murder. He was not the last. Not certainly the last. There have been many martyrs and prophets since his death who have stood in front of evil and proclaimed God’s reign. Later in the 20th century it was Janani Luwum, Archbishop in Uganda, who confronted an evil regime with the power of love. He paid with his life. One night he was summoned to the presidential palace, and he stood right in front of his country’s ruler, Idi Amin, and refused to renounce the truth. For that he was shot and killed.

These are among the known martyrs; others are known but to God. But their work continues; their truth persists; and the culmination of this year and all years is still this: God reigns. That means that whatever claims on our allegiance are offered to us, none is as important as the integrity of the faith that God keeps with us. And that we, faltering and failing and forgiven, attempt to keep with God. [JRL+ 2021 11/15]

https://www.episcopalcommonprayer.org/uploads/1/2/3/0/123026473/lesser_feasts_and_fasts_2006.pdf

https://www.anglicannews.org/news/2016/02/ugandans-urged-to-pray-for-elections-on-archbishop-janani-luwum-day.aspx

An earlier version of this essay was published as "God keeps faith with us" in the Arizona Daily Star in the Keeping the Faith feature of the Home + Life section, November 28th 2021 page E3.

Janani Luwum

In the Westminster Abbey gallery of 20th century
Christian martyrs, Janani Luwum, Archbishop of
Uganda, represents Africa. On the night of
February 16-17, 1977, as the archbishop stood up
to his government and spoke up on behalf of his
suffering people, he received martyrdom at the
hands of Idi Amin. For a hundred years, Uganda
had seen the passion of Christ through his
people: sharing in his suffering and in the joy
of the resurrection that transcends it.

As Jesus inaugurated his ministry in the
synagogue at Nazareth, he declared that today
these words of the prophet Isaiah have been
fulfilled in your hearing:

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he
has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the
captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to
let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year
of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19)

If the church has anywhere been called to share
in the ministry and mission of Christ, in his
passion and in his joy, it is here and now - here
and now for Janani Luwum was Uganda in the time
of Obote and Amin; for us it is here and now
where we are today.

Four decades before Janani Luwum was born,
Christianity came to Uganda through Anglican and
Roman Catholic missionaries. Many of them and the
people who responded to their message became
martyrs straightaway, as the ruler of that time
saw them as a threat.

King Mwanga had 32 of his own followers,
Christian converts, stacked like cordwood and
burned. As they died, they sang praise to God and
prayed for their persecutors. The killings did
not have the intended effect: the Ugandan people,
seeing the example of the martyrs, sought out the
few remaining Christians to learn about the
gospel - and the faith spread like wildfire.

We celebrate Uganda's 19th century martyrs
beginning with James Hannington, and we celebrate
its 20th century martyrs beginning with Janani
Luwum.

Born in Acholiland in northern Uganda, Janani
Luwum initially thought to become a
schoolteacher. When, like his father before him,
he converted to Christianity, he began
immediately to share the word and speak out for
God's justice for the people in the land. He
became a figure of peace and reconciliation as he
sought to give the gospel African expression. He
encouraged his church to become economically
independent and take its place among the churches
of the globe as an equal partner in mission. He
worked for the poor, for education and the
alleviation of suffering. And he worked for
justice.

Thirty years after the death of Janani Luwum, the
archbishop of York, John Sentamu, in his Martin
Luther King memorial lecture on 20 January 2007,
gave God's people a call to action that has
implications beyond the walls of the lecture
hall-or the church:

"We must do battle with the four modern demons of
our time: Idolatry, materialism, militarism, and
race-ism. The Christian response is grounded and
formed in the words of Jesus: Love one another.
This is the love that turns the other cheek, the
love that stands in the face of suffering and
refuses to be cowed, this is a love so strong
that it bursts forth from the grave leaving
behind it an empty tomb."

JRL+


+


(See also http://www.jananiluwumtrust.com/luwum.html)

As Bold As Love: Janani Luwum and the Martyrs of Uganda

In the Westminster Abbey gallery of 20th century Christian martyrs, Janani Luwum, Archbishop of Uganda, represents Africa. On the night of February 16-17, 1977, as the archbishop stood up to his government and spoke up on behalf of his suffering people, he received martyrdom at the hands of Idi Amin.

For a hundred years, Uganda had seen the passion of Christ through his people: sharing in his suffering and in the joy of the resurrection that transcends it.

As Jesus inaugurated his ministry in the synagogue at Nazareth, he declared that today these words of the prophet Isaiah have been fulfilled in your hearing:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)

If the church has anywhere been called to share in the ministry and mission of Christ, in his passion and in his joy, it is here and now – here and now for Janani Luwum was Uganda in the time of Obote and Amin; for us it is here and now where we are today. And as he was called, we are called, to embody Christ in our own time and place, knowing that God is with us, before us to lead us, beside us to guide us, within us to inspire us, as we seek to serve him in this world.

During the 1880s, four decades before Janani Luwum was born, Christianity came to Uganda through Anglican and Roman Catholic missionaries. Many of them and the people who responded to their message became martyrs straightaway, as the ruler of that time saw them as a threat.

In 1886 King Mwanga had 32 of his own followers, Christian converts, stacked like cordwood and burned. As they died, they sang praise to God and prayed for their persecutors. The killings did not have the intended effect: the Ugandan people, seeing the example of the martyrs, sought out the few remaining Christians to learn about the gospel - and the faith spread like wildfire.

We celebrate Uganda's 19th century martyrs beginning with James Hannington, and we celebrate its 20th century martyrs beginning with Janani Luwum.

Born in Acholiland in northern Uganda in 1922, Janani Luwum initially thought to become a schoolteacher. When, like his father before him, he converted to Christianity, he began immediately to share the word and speak out for God's justice for the people in the land. He became a figure of peace and reconciliation as he sought to give the gospel African expression. He encouraged his church to become economically independent and take its place among the churches of the globe as an equal partner in mission. He worked for the poor, for education and the alleviation of suffering. And he worked for justice.

Among his legacies are the leaders he helped to train, including the present archbishop of Uganda, Henry Luke Orombi, and the archbishop of York, John Sentamu. Thirty years after the death of Janani Luwum, Dr Sentamu, in his Martin Luther King memorial lecture on 20 January 2007, gave God's people a call to action that has implications beyond the walls of the lecture hall - or the church:

“We must do battle with the four modern demons of our time: Idolatry, materialism, militarism, and race-ism...

“We do not educate our opponents by refusing to sit down with them... The belief that we should not be in communion with those against whose views we are passionately opposed benefits neither side. The walls of ignorance and enmity are built higher still in the refusal to even attempt to win over our opponent but rather to prefer to walk our own way convinced of our own righteousness...

“The Christian response is grounded and formed in the words of Jesus: Love one another... This is the love that turns the other cheek, the love that stands in the face of suffering and refuses to be cowed, this is a love so strong that it bursts forth from the grave leaving behind it an empty tomb.”

As we move from Epiphany to Lent, from the season in which God illuminates us with the knowledge of his love embodied in his Son, to a season of preparation for welcoming and worshipping Christ in praise and practice, let us remember the Christian witness and example of Janani Luwum and the martyrs of Uganda, and make our own response to the gospel as bold as love.

JRL+

the dream is ended

May I speak in the Name of the Son, in the Power of the Holy Spirit, to the Glory of God the Father. AMEN.

On the last page of the last chapter of his last book for children, C. S. Lewis wrote:

“The dream is ended: this is the morning…” the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures…had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.

***

This is not the end of the story. It is only the end of the beginning.

The story began, in this earthly realm, 93 years ago. Allison Morrison lived a long and full life, a memorable one, with memories left behind that we can begin to share today, as you meet each other and hear each other’s stories – of Allison getting together with folks on Friday mornings at Pancake Haus, of Rob and Allison anchoring their pew at the 8 o’clock services, of their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. This is the part of the story that we know: but the story continues beyond our knowing, as Allison is received where she is known best of all, in the presence of God.

For each of us this life is only the beginning: death is not the end: life, in Christ, goes on into eternity.

We can share in the presence of Christ in this community together, in Eucharist: Allison and all those who have gone before us, share in that communion, too: in the presence of the Lord.

“Our journey,” Archbishop Sentamu has preached, “is towards oneness with God. As we journey, our calling is to make manifest to everyone the compassionate face of God made visible in Jesus Christ.”

We follow Jesus. We follow him to life in the presence of God. Someday like Allison each one of us will see him face to face. When that day comes, may we be like Peter, who, hearing on Easter morning that Jesus was alive, ran to the tomb to greet his risen Lord. In the meantime, may we run or walk, may we journey, as if Jesus were walking beside us – his presence a forgone conclusion.

“Jesus is in fact the presence of God’s truth and God’s life in the world,” Lesslie Newbigin writes, “and to know the Father means to follow the way which Jesus is, and which he has opened” for us, through the veil between this life and the next, “by his living, his dying, and his rising from the dead.”

The presence of God, the forgiveness of God, the grace of God, are all around us and present to us. It is a matter of us becoming present to Him.

Quite often we may feel his absence, as if he were gone. But even at those times he is right beside us, grieving with us in our sorrow and despair.

Sometimes we may forget how he sees us: the Lord sees the person he made and that he loves. He sees each of us in aspiration – in the Spirit – and sees the child of God within us. However distorted that image may seem to be, from time to time, it is there, shining behind the clouds of sin and desire, of folly and disease, and on the day that the Lord greets us, as he now greets Allison, we will shine with the reflected light of God’s glory and his loving greeting to us.

“Come my child, my beloved. Come home to the place I have made for you. Come to the table – and sit at the banquet – and rejoice in the presence and the plenty of God.”

May God in his grace abundantly enfold you, bringing you into his peace. Amen.



St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Edmonds, WA
March 15, 2008

Memorial Service for
Allison Morrison (October 11, 1915 – February 15, 2008)

Lamentations 3:22-26, 31-33
Psalm 121
Revelation 21:2-7
Psalm 106:1-5
John 14:1-6

(C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle, the last chapter, the last page.)

Archbishop of York, “We journey towards oneness with God“, Monday 12 February 2007
Service of commemoration of the 30th anniversary of the martyrdom of Janani Luwum at Westminster Abbey, London
(http://www.archbishopofyork.org/261)

(Lesslie Newbigin, The Light Has Come, Eerdmans, 1982, p. 182)