Once you’ve seen something, you can’t “un-see” it.

All of us have our own ideas about “the way things are” until, we see something different. Until, our personal perspective is challenged and maybe, just maybe, we notice our bias. Richard Rohr breaks this down in the appendix of his new book The Universal Christ  in a succinct and worthwhile way (particularly for us preachers). Perspective is what prompts me on this “heavy is the head that wears the crown” Sunday.

If you are looking for kingly prompts, this post will disappoint. I’m sorry, my friend, the kingly analogy does not move my heart. Kings are monarchy, patriarchy and just plain old hierarchy. Kings represent the top of powers and principalities that have no need for what Christ has to offer – the way of the cross, the way of love, or the way of life and peace.  

Queens on the other hand have opened my eyes.

Several years ago, when I was going through my own experiences of death and dying, a good friend came to visit. He accurately assessed my emotional state and said, “Arianne, I know what you need. We’re going to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race.”  

Thanks be to God, I never saw things the same way again.

This show is beauty, love, joy, friendship, envy, competition, delightful revelry and fabulous entertainment. This show (please don’t begrudge my late blooming!) challenged my perspective about gender, love, joy, friendship, envy, competition, delightful revelry and fabulous entertainment. This show blew my mind. Here I had been living my whole life unaware this world of drag culture existed. But now I had seen it!  

Now, I have no idea what your comfort or discomfort level is on this subject. I’m a radically all-inclusive love when it comes to God kinda gal. Although I wasn’t always. And it would be hard in many congregational contexts to use this show as an analogy on a Sunday. Because, some people (not you, my friend) but some people, shut down and stop listening when you bring up something that challenges their perspective.

But, let’s face it, that’s what preachers are sometimes called to do. Regardless, all of us can prompt people to open their eyes!  

That’s what is asked of us at the cross. As we stare at a hard reality that challenged every perspective. Some characters in this gospel story see punishment, death, and shame. Some, at least two that I count, see hope, forgiveness and love.

Recall for a moment the straightforward question Jesus poses when some dinner guests get all bent out of shape by a woman embodying love in a way that challenges perspectives. He asks, “Do you see this woman?”  

They don’t. They don’t see a woman, let alone a person. They don’t see an act of love. They see a problem. They see someone who is different and is doing something different which makes people uncomfortable. Acting in a way that makes some feel awkward, or even, ashamed.

Jesus just sees her. Jesus sees a child of God.  

That’s what those beautiful queens showed me as they sashayed away my preconceived stereotypes, heteronormative perspectives and personal hang-ups. They were all beautiful, struggling children of God, different than me, and fabulously worthy of love and belonging, just like me.

Their courage and acceptance rocked my world and opened my eyes. It helped me get curious about perspectives that challenged my own.

“If only we could see things as they really are,” wrote Thomas Merton on that corner of 4th and Walnut, “but it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people they are all walking around and shining like the sun.”

Somehow, as desperate, depressing and dark as this gospel scene is Jesus still glimpses rays of the sun. Jesus sees people terrified of a king and so, resort to violence. Jesus sees people who need forgiveness. Jesus sees people who are lost and need hope. Jesus sees the thief, as a child of God who deserves to be in Paradise.

I’m sure you know the adage, “We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are.” On the last Sunday of ordinary time, before we start all over again we are asked, how do you see the world? How do you see your life? How do you see your neighbors? How do you see the kings? How do you see the queens? How do you see we are different? How do you see we are all children of the one, holy and living God – and therefore, all the same?

What is your story of having your world rocked and your mind blown as you saw, as if for the first time, God’s radically embracing love? When has your perspective been challenged and changed? When was a time you saw punishment, shame and death transformed into hope, forgiveness and love?

Where do you want people to see that? What story will prompt them to see that no matter what we feel, God sees all of us, all the time, walking around or sashaying around and shining like the sun?