Seating Arrangements

Seating Arrangements--May 4, 2017

“God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.” (Ephesians 1:20-21)

So… not to be disrespectful, but why exactly should we care about the seating arrangements in the heavenly throne room?  And more specifically, why should we care about the seating arrangements for Jesus in heaven, not even of ourselves?

Okay, let’s start with the presumption that there is a reason that Paul takes the time to describe this scene, and not throw this detail of the “seating” of Christ away like it’s unimportant.  Now think for a minute about any throne room scene you have ever observed, whether in a movie or television, a fairy tale, or what have you.  Even a real-life throne room scene from some ceremonial event in England, maybe.  But think for a minute about what you have seen:  is anybody ever allowed to stay sitting when the king or queen enters the room?  Is anyone allowed to stay seated if the king or queen is standing?  I’m not even sure I’ve ever seen an occasion where anybody ever sits in the throne room when the king or queen is in the room.  It’s all a symbol of royal power and majesty—they command a certain respect by their title and their crown.

But that of course brings us to the question… Why then is Jesus allowed to sit in a heavenly throne room?

Well… because of who he is.  This is one of those moments where the Biblical writers show us, rather than merely telling us, that Christ Jesus is not merely a good human teacher or religious guru, and not even that he is good prophet or heaven-sent hero, but nothing less than God-in-the-flesh.  You don’t let pretenders be seated in the throne room, after all.  And God, according to Ephesians has seated Jesus there in the heavenly throne room.  It is Paul’s way of showing us that Jesus has all that God has, and that Jesus is all that God is.  For a good faithful Jew as Paul was raised to be, the one absolute, crystal-clear rule was “Don’t give to anybody else the glory or praise or worship that are only due to God.”  And yet here Paul is giving glory and praise and worship and esteem and all the rest, which should only belong to God, to… Jesus.  It’s Paul’s way of saying what the Creeds would later put in bullet points: that Jesus is none other and nothing less than God in the flesh, “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.”

And then there’s this to consider—our culture’s love for coffee breaks every fifteen minutes notwithstanding, in Paul’s mind, you don’t sit down unless your work is done.  As in completed.  As in finished.  As in, not just “in progress” or “I’ve got a good start made here…” but actually done.  The resurrection of Jesus is Jesus’ sit-down moment, because the work—all the work—of redemption is done by then.  It happened at the cross, and it’s done now.  There’s no more mopping up for me to do, or you.  There’s no more worry about whether I’ve done my part for God enough or not, no antsy-ness about whether I’ve said the words or prayed the right prayer.  There’s no question left hanging in the air about whether I have to do a certain number of good deeds, give a certain amount in the offering plate, or win a certain number of converts and new members to my church.  It’s done.  Jesus did.  That’s why he gets to sit down. His work—the work of saving us—is done.  He did it with his hands nailed outstretched to a plank of wood.

But, of course, the nails weren’t the end.  And that’s the other piece of this whole seating arrangement scene.  God the Father “seated” Christ Jesus right along with having “raised” him from the dead—which Paul says is how God shows his great power.  In other words, the power of God is real power that really makes a real difference in the world, in history, and in our lives.  Sometimes Christians talk like God’s presence in our lives is entirely a matter of subjective feeling, like it’s just a matter of having a warm and fuzzy feeling of “peace in your heart,” which is fine and good, but doesn’t seem to make a hill of beans’ worth of difference in the big scheme of things.  But resurrection?  Now we’re talking.  Life beyond death? That I can see and understand. Being raised up after being struck down?  That’s something I can really hope for and cling to.  That’s what God’s power is like—not just a warm feeling or an inspirational moment or a quiet breeze, but a pulse to a heart that had stopped beating, a breath where there had been none before, and a stone rolled away from a tomb. 

All of that is waiting to be seen in the way Paul describes God seating Christ at the right hand of the heavenly throne.  All of that is meant to give us hope.  That’s worth giving a standing ovation for, don’t you think?

God of majesty and glory… and of nails, grant us the courageous faith to pin all our trust on what Jesus has done and to pin all our hopes on what you did to raise him from the dead.