I don’t suppose we really know what to expect as we
anticipate the gospel reading on Christ the King Sunday. Perhaps the image that
comes into my mind is of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey as the crowds
wave palm branches and shout Hosanna to the King. Of course, we know Jesus is
not an earthly king, so maybe our images of his kingship are more likely to be
images of Jesus feeding the 5000 or walking on water – images that display his
awesome power. Perhaps the image of Christ as King that comes to mind is of
Jesus standing before the crowds on that Good Friday wearing a crown of thorns
and being mocked by the soldiers. But this image of cruelty and suffering and
humiliation doesn’t exactly match what we think of when we hear the words
Christ the King. And yet this image comes the closest to revealing the tension
of this day – the day that marks the end of the Christian year and points
forward to Advent.
Today our gospel reading comes from the 18th
chapter of John. The caption in many Bibles reads “Jesus on trial before
Pilate.” But today, as the gospel is read, listen for who is on trial. Is it
Jesus before Pilate? Or is it Pilate before Jesus? Who is the one in authority
here? Who speaks the words of truth?
33Then Pilate entered the headquarters again,
summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ 34Jesus
answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ 35Pilate
replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have
handed you over to me. What have you done?’ 36Jesus answered, ‘My
kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my
followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But
as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ 37Pilate asked him, ‘So you
are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born,
and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who
belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ 38Pilate asked him, ‘What
is truth?’
Christ the King Sunday is one of my favorite Sundays. I love
the fact that we mark the end of the Christian year by remembering and
affirming Christ’s Kingship. It feels both celebratory and anticipatory to me.
We celebrate all that God has done through Jesus, loving us unconditionally, freeing
us from bondage, saving us from sin, and giving us new life and hope and joy.
And we anticipate that day when “the kingdom of this world is become the
kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ and he shall reign forever and ever!”
(Rev 11:15). And on that day there will be no more death or mourning or crying
or pain and we will be his kingdom, serving our God and Father forever and
ever. Amen!
And yet, here we are on this Sunday after Thanksgiving, this
Sunday after Black Friday, this Sunday when many of us have already decorated
our homes for Christmas and yet Advent doesn’t begin until next Sunday, and I
wonder if we really believe that Christ is King. Do our words affirm Christ’s
kingship? Do our actions reveal that Jesus is Lord of our lives? Do our choices
testify to the Truth?
In my reading this week I learned that Pope Pius XI
established the feast of Christ the King in 1925 in response to the increasing
secularism he saw in the world. The war to end all wars – World War I – was
past, but already tensions were growing. People were living in fear, struggling
with economic depression, and desperately looking for answers. Mussolini was
already in power in Italy and Hitler’s power was growing daily. People were
looking to these powerful men for answers, listening for new truths and eager
for relief. The Pope felt it was important to call on Christians everywhere to
declare their allegiance to Christ, to look to Christ and Christ alone for
answers, for relief, for the truth.
Here we are almost 90 years later, still shocked by the
growing secularism in this world. People still live in fear, we are still
struggling with an economic depression, and we are still looking for answers.
Our leaders have different names, and many are no where near as evil as
Mussolini and Hitler, but still wars continue to rage, people continue to
starve to death, and Christ’s kingdom seems a very long way off.
It is in this place of discomfort and fear and even hopelessness
that we turn to today’s gospel reading. At first glance, as we see Jesus
standing before Pilate, we sense our own discomfort and fear and hopelessness.
For it is clear from the start that the crowds want Jesus dead. Jesus has been
betrayed by a friend, abandoned by his followers, and now stands alone before
the Roman governor – the man who has the power to kill him or set him free. In
the scenes that follow, we know Jesus will be flogged and mocked and crucified.
The scene is terrifying, we sense a loss of control; this is not a story of
Christ the King.
But let’s look more closely at who is on trial here. Who is
the one who is being questioned? Who is the one who is being given the
opportunity to embrace the truth? Pilate has just encountered the Jewish
leaders who bring no specific accusation against Jesus – they just call him a
criminal. When Pilate tells them to deal with the problem themselves they come
back with the statement, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.” The
Jewish leaders are manipulating Pilate. They have put him in a difficult
position. He knows the Jewish leaders fear insurrection. As the governor it is
his job to keep order – to keep the peace. And yet there doesn’t appear to be
an insurrection. The followers of Jesus seem to have abandoned him. So Pilate,
in his uncertainty about what to do, questions Jesus: “Are you the King of the
Jews?”
And Jesus immediately turns the tables and puts Pilate on
trial: “Why do you ask? What have others told you about me?”
Pilate becomes defensive: “I am not a Jew. I don’t care
about you or your little band of followers. You’re no threat to me. And yet the
Jewish leaders have handed you over to me and now I have to deal with you. Tell
me: What have you done?”
Jesus’ answer speaks volumes: “My kingdom is not from this
world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to
keep me from being handed over to the authorities. But as it is, my kingdom is
not from here.”
This answer confirms for Pilate that Jesus is not a threat
to him. Pilate tries to placate the crowds and release Jesus. But the crowds
want Jesus dead. They cry for the release of Barabbas. They shout, “Crucify
him!” They announce that they have no king but the emperor. And Pilate wavers –
in his uncertainty, Pilate takes the easy way out – Pilate gives in to the pressure
of the crowd and hands Jesus over to be crucified.
Pope Pius XI was concerned about growing secularism. People
looking for easy answers instead of turning to the Truth. People wavering
between various opinions instead of looking to Jesus. People turning to their
own means, listening to society’s ideas, and accepting the world’s ways of
doing things; all in the name of finding security and comfort and perhaps even
happiness.
But didn’t Pilate do exactly this? Rather than listen to the
truth of what Jesus was saying, Pilate listened to the crowds – the fickle
crowds who also did not hear the truth; Pilate accepted the world’s solution to
this so called threat standing before him wearing a crown of thorns – death on
a cross – an easy solution for a governor; Pilate used his power to find
security and comfort at least for himself – Pilate took the easy way out.
And isn’t this what we do today? Maybe it looks a little
different today in our own lives and in this community, but we still seek
security and comfort and even happiness in things other than God.
Here we are,
just two days after “Black Friday” – which actually this year became “Black
Thursday.” How many of us were out shopping at 10 pm on Thursday? Or up at 5 am
on Friday to get those unbelievable deals? Why do we do this? Do we really
believe we’ll find happiness as we slog our way through the crowds looking for
that elusive bargain? Do we really think we are finding security and comfort in
our relationships by wading through traffic to buy one more gift for a person
who probably won’t remember the gift three months from now? Do we really feel
the pressure to cave in to the cultural impulse to “shop ‘til we drop”?
Of course
most of us don’t. Most of us, in fact, are just a tad sickened by the profound
commercialization of Christmas. And yet we participate in it. Why?
I think it
is because we have been taken captive by a false idea that things can make us happy. The media has convinced us
that we need more, bigger, better, newer stuff. And in response we either
relentlessly consume more and more, or we feel inadequate that we can’t. In
fact, I’d argue that a whole lot of us waver between feelings of compulsion to
buy and spend more (whether we can afford to or not) and feelings of guilt
knowing that this isn’t helpful to us, to those around us, to the orphans in
Zimbabwe, or to this planet.
Must
Pilate’s fate be ours? Because here’s the thing – Jesus makes Pilate a promise:
“Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” But Pilate doesn’t
listen, throwing back the question, “What is truth?” Pilate embraces the
secularism of his time rather than the truth. But we might listen. We might
embrace the truth. And if we do, what might we hear? It’s simple, actually:
Jesus is the way and the truth and the life. Jesus is the way to comfort and
security and even happiness. Jesus is the unwavering truth, the One who is in
control. Jesus promises us abundant life, a life full of blessings.
We don’t need more stuff. We don’t need to feel insecure if
we can’t afford more stuff. We don’t need to rely on earthly rulers for comfort
and security. We will never find our way by embracing the things of this world.
But this is easier said than done. It is easier to cling to the bargains of
Black Friday than to embrace the truth of that Good Friday so long ago. It is
easier to swallow turkey with all the trimmings on Thanksgiving Thursday than
to wrap our head around Jesus’ words, “This is my body given for you.” It is
easier to put up Christmas trees and listen to holiday music than to consider
the tension of the “already not yet” of Christ’s kingdom. What do we do with the One who is and
who was and who is to come, the Almighty, the Alpha and the Omega, in this time
and place?
The answer is so simple and yet so complicated. We declare
Jesus King of our lives. When Jesus is Lord of our lives we see this world
differently. We see that we don’t need Pilate’s power; we have Jesus’
compassion. We don’t need Pilate’s insecurity and desire to please others; for
God love us beyond all measure. We
don’t need to be trapped by the things of this world; for we have been given
new life in Jesus Christ. We don’t
need to conform to the ways of this culture; for we have been called to a
higher truth. Jesus Christ is King and Lord of all.
On this eve of a new Christian year, what would it take for
each one of us to truly live as those who believe that Jesus is King? What
would we have to change in order to enter into this season of Advent truly preparing
for Jesus’ coming – not just as a baby born in a lowly manger, but also as the
King of Glory? How do we wrap our heads around the truth of a king who wore a
crown of thorns instead of a crown of gold and whose weapon was a cross and not
a sword?
I think we all know that declaring Jesus King of our lives
takes turning away from the things of this world and turning toward Jesus. It
takes loving God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength, and our
neighbors as ourselves. It takes letting go of our fears and insecurities. It
takes embracing Christian community in all its complexity. It takes this crazy
leap of faith because making Jesus king of our lives is so counter-intuitive,
so contrary to this culture, so different from the ways of the world, and yet,
so amazing. It takes Jesus.
And Jesus is calling you. Jesus is calling me. Jesus is
inviting us once again to follow him, to place our trust in him and him alone,
to allow him to be King and Lord of our lives. Will you answer this call?
Response: The Summons (TFWS 2130)
The Summons
by John Bell
1. Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?
2. Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?
3. Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the pris’ners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?
2. Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?
3. Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the pris’ners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?
4. Will you love the ‘you’ you hide
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me?
5. Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me?
5. Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.