Why do people read horror stories or watch horror movies? I had to do a little research on this question since I have never been drawn to the genre. Of course, there is an audience for it, otherwise books and movies wouldn’t sell. So, what is it that attracts people to getting goose bumps, elevated blood pressure, sweaty palms, emotional distress, a knot in the stomach? One line of explanation suggests that exposure to horror is people’s way of experiencing fear in a controlled setting. The thrill of the unknown elevates heart rate and boosts adrenaline, and since the “scares” pose no real threat, they can be processed, laughed about, and enjoyed. Real fear, which humans must face every day, is much more terrifying since it often can’t be controlled; watching a horror film may be a manner by which people prepare to deal with real and not just imagined fear. There is also that great sense of relief at the end of the movie: it’s over and it’s not real!

The question for us this morning is one that I have never heard raised in church but that I think needs to be asked: why does Jesus feel the need to tell people horror parables? What’s the rationale for comparing the kingdom of God with a vengeful, violent ruler who retaliates in a fury? Is it because people need to be scared from time to time? Are we missing something that these old fire and brimstone preachers understood: unless you wake and shake people, they are going to disregard God and disrespect religion and find a hundred excuses for not coming to God’s table… Is it as simple as this: people need to be given goosebumps from time to time?

This reminds me of an old joke that’s probably been told to generations of Catholic school children. There is this kid that’s getting in trouble in school all the time. The teachers call the parents. They have some serious conversations about the child’s behavior and his disrespectful ways. The exasperated parents try psychology and counseling; they confront him with threats; they lure him with rewards for good behavior. They switch schools. They try a mentoring program. They do everything possible, but nothing seems to work, nothing at all. Finally, they enroll him at Holy Cross Catholic High School, thinking that a little bit of religion might do him some good. The first week it all goes well. The second week, it all goes well. And the third week, it all goes well. No phone calls or complaints from teachers. Still skeptical, they finally ask their son, “Son, how is it going in school?”  “All is well,” he says. And they ask, “What happened? What happened? What made the difference?” “Well,” he says, “the first day when I walked into the student hall, there was this guy – bloody, beaten up, and hanging from a wooden stick, dead. That’s when I realized they mean business here.”

Is the Lutheran emphasis on God’s grace and love too easy, too soft, too forgiving? Martin Luther, in his years as a young priest, was often scared to death, scared of God, scared to come to the confession booth, afraid of the afterlife. He thought God was after him like the king in this parable. He was almost sure that, if he ever made it to the heavenly banquet hall, he would be found with the wrong robe on and thrown out.  So deep were his fears, so engrained in his soul was that fear that it took him years and years of studying the Bible to find the message that’s quite obvious in the New Testament: the message of God’s grace and of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross for the atonement of everything and anything that might separate us from God. And he wrote, “It was like a great weight was lifted from my shoulders.” Indeed, it was like the end of a horror movie.

So, let’s go and picture this parable as a horror flick. The king is unpredictable and psychotic, a volatile character who is out of control, probably played by John Malkovich. One moment he invites everybody in from the street and next time you look on the screen he punishes someone just for wearing the wrong wardrobe. It’s safe to say he’s cuckoo, right? The interesting part is: when Jesus told this parable, he spoke to people who knew a leader just like that: someone on the edge of insanity! King Herod was known for his erratic behavior and violent outbursts that included murdering several family members. Anyone who heard this parable in Jesus’ day would have recognized the fingerprint of Herod. People were scared of King Herod! He had once ordered a mass crucifixion of rebels, just because he could.

Still, why does Jesus compare this king and his erratic behavior to the kingdom of God – remember, the peaceful kingdom where the poor are blessed, where those in mourning are comforted and those who are gentle and pure in heart are praised as role models? How can Jesus apply this violent story to God’s kingdom when he always and consistently revoked bloodshed in his own personal conduct and teachings? The kingdom that Jesus preached was as far removed from King Herod’s style of oppression as can be. The God he preached was as far removed from the king of this parable as possible. What’s his point?

Could it be, I wonder, that Jesus offered the religious leaders of his time a perfect mirror image of their own brand of religion – the Pharisee’s black and white version of the kingdom – only one in which they would not come out on the good side? Perhaps he was he trying to scare them out of their unholy comfort zone with which they were condemning other people! Whenever religious people are comfortable condemning others, placing themselves in the “saved” zone, while comfortably pointing fingers, they might need a little bit of this treatment: apply the same rules by which they judge others!  Will it dawn on them what they are doing?

Sadly, the Bible tells us that it never dawned on Jesus’ critics what they were doing. Minds that think in black and white are some of the most notoriously difficult to cure. And that is true in our day as well. I once saw a group of Christian fundamentalists holding up signs at a rally for Women’s Rights that read, “Jezebel, go back to the kitchen…” and other, highly offensive, misogynistic things of that nature. They were holding up these signs as if they were a badge of honor, with a grin on their faces, the ugly face of the wrong kind of righteousness. I remember that scene and you know what? It makes me want to scare them. It makes me want to tell them that they have the wrong robes on, that the king will come after them once he notices them. It even makes me want to say to them that there will be darkness and gnashing of teeth…

Ooops! Am I vengeful? Or is it true that some people need to be scared? God has watched too many horror movies called “the church misunderstanding Jesus.” He desperately wants us to understand his Son, Jesus, the very embodiment of love, God incarnate, grace without end. Amen.