Christ the King

Grace be to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Today is the festival of Christ the King, the day at the end of the church year when we celebrate Christ’s eternal reign. Yet the gospel reading before us today is part of Jesus’ trial before the Roman governor Pontius Pilate. Just a few hours after this conversation, Jesus will be crucified. An odd choice of text for this festival, isn’t it?

I think we are asked to look at this particular gospel passage because it shows us two very different ways of reigning, of having and exerting power. Pilate and Jesus could not be more different in this regard.

In their book “The Last Week”, theologians Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan present a great visual image for the difference between these two men. Just four or five days prior to today’s encounter, Pilate had entered the city of Jerusalem from the west and Jesus had entered from the east. The descriptions of those two arrivals highlight what very different kinds of rulers they are.

Pontius Pilate is the Roman governor of Judea and Samaria. He carries the power and weight of the Roman Empire. His procession shows it. He enters the city at the head of a column of imperial troops: cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, weapons, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal.

The sounds, too, are awe-inspiring: the marching of feet, the creaking of leather, the clinking of bridles, the beating of drums. Along the route there would be silent onlookers, some curious, some awed, some resentful, some filled with hate.

These processions happened prior to every major Jewish holy day. Pilate always marched in spectacular fashion into the city of Jerusalem, the capital city, not to show his support, but to be there in case riots should break out. His show of power is meant to quell any thought of resisting the Roman occupation.

Jesus’ procession into Jerusalem is completely different. It is a peasant procession. There is no order to it, no rank and file, no troops in tight array. This is a bunch of plain folk who had followed Jesus from Galilee. They are joined by excited and hopeful members of the crowd. There is no awed or anxious or hate-filled silence, but laughter; joyful shouts ring out: “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Jesus rides not a war horse like Pilate, but a donkey. This is a very symbolic choice, because the Prophet Zechariah had announced the coming of a humble king riding on a donkey. This king would bring peace to the nation. He would banish all war, all weapons, all chariots and war horses from the land.

Jesus had planned his entry. He knew when Pilate would make his grandiose procession into the city. He told his disciples where to find the donkey. While Pilate enters the city from the west with pomp and might, Jesus enters from the east with humility and love.

Pilate embodies power and glory and violence. Jesus’ procession embodies joy and hope and the loving welcome of the kingdom of God. What a contrast.

And now these two contrasting men are facing each other. Jesus had been arrested the night before by the temple police. Because the religious leadership did not have the right to execute a person, they drag Jesus to Pilate, who as governor has that power. They urge him to find Jesus guilty and kill him.

Pilate couldn’t care less about Jesus being the Messiah. All that religious arguing between differing Jewish camps bored him to death. What Pilate does care about is peace and quiet. That’s why the temple leadership accuse Jesus of claiming to be a king. That charge smacks of insurrection; and insurrection is punishable by crucifixion.

Thus, the whole conversation between Jesus and Pilate revolves around the question of kingship. Is Jesus a king? If so, what kind of king is he?

Pilate hears the word ‘king’ and thinks of emperors like that one he serves. However, Jesus makes clear that his way of being a king is completely different. He says, “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.” If Jesus were a king ala Rome, he would call his followers to arms and there would be a riot and violence, and eventually a winner would emerge and punish the looser. That’s what kingdoms from this world look and act like.

But Jesus’ kingdom is not from this world. It is not like the kingdoms we have seen before. Jesus will not defend his kingdom with violence. Jesus’ reign is about justice, and about love, and about peace, and about truth.

The truth Jesus wants us to know is the truth about God’s love. God so loves the world, Jesus says, that God sent his only Son to bless all believers with eternal life. It is this truth of a loving God that Jesus lived, died, and rose for. It is this truth that brings him before Pilate for a trial. It is this truth we love about Jesus.

And yet, it is also this truth that is really hard for us to embrace and trust. It is hard for us to imagine this gentle, loving, humble, non-violent kind of reign, because we are surrounded by the other kind, the Pontius Pilate kind, the violent kind, the kind we see at war in Ukraine and the Middle East and so many other places.

We are always tempted by the allure of power. There were times when I thought how nice it would be to have an emperor for a season, someone with absolute power. That person could remedy everything that’s amiss in the nation, eliminate corruption, fix broken institutions, update the constitution, and bring law and order to the people. And then abdicate and hand things back to a democracy.

However, every time that has actually happened in history it went south very quickly.

When Adolf Hitler first came to power, the vast majority of Germans and of other nations around the world welcomed his ideas and goals. People loved seeing his young men in uniforms behaving well and helping those in need; loved the youth programs that taught discipline and love of country; loved law and order in the streets; loved that Hitler allowed them to feel proud about their country again.

But we all know where this ended up: A totalitarian regime that killed millions and led all of Europe into a terrible war.

When the Taliban first came into Afghanistan after the Russian occupation, everyone was glad to see them take over. Their young men were conservatively dressed and groomed; they took their religion seriously and truly desired to live it out; they stressed traditional values; they brought law and order to a ravaged nation.

Before too long, however, we gasped at what they were doing to their own people: public stonings, women forced to wear burkas, girls kicked out of schools, media censored, soccer and music forbidden, brutal totalitarian control over every aspect of life.

This is how kingdoms from this world too often develop.

That’s why Jesus rejects this kind of kingdom. He rejects absolute power. He rejects violence. His reign doesn’t come with force from on high; his reign comes with love from below.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus debates with Pilate about the kind of king he is. Later that same day, Jesus will die out of love for all people. Rather than fight violence with violence, Jesus opts out of the struggle and shows another way: He gives his life so others might be saved.

In the Lutheran Church, we celebrate two sacraments; they both remind us of this amazing love Jesus came to proclaim.

One is the sacrament of baptism. In baptism, God adopts us into God’s family, anoints us with the Holy Spirit, and promises us support and guidance in this life and eternal blessings in the life to come. All this is given to us not because we are so wonderful, but because God is so wonderful. It is a pure gift of grace.

The other sacrament is the Lord’s Supper. Jesus invites us to his table and shares the bread and wine of forgiveness with us. In a very personal and powerful way, the presence of Christ the King is placed into our hands with the words “given for you – shed for you”. Jesus gave himself for you. Jesus loves you so much that he was willing to die for you. Jesus’ sacrificial love grants us forgiveness of sins, grace for life in this world, and hope of eternal rest in God’s everlasting kingdom.

That is the loving reign Jesus came to bring. His kingdom is not from this world, and we are so blessed that it is not. His reign seeks to transform our violent world through his love.

What does all this mean for us? Time and again, we find ourselves on trial like Jesus before Pilate. We are asked to testify as to what kind of king we serve. We are asked to reject violence and embrace love. We are asked not to be tempted by power and might, and instead opt for humility and service. In our violent world, we as followers of Christ the King are called to embrace and live his truth.

The celebration of Christ the King Sunday was instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925 in the face of rising fascism and communism in Europe. Nowadays, we are facing fascism again, as well as antisemitism and many other -isms. The message and calling of this Sunday are very urgent. As followers of the humble, peaceful, loving King Jesus Christ, may we be a voice for non-violence and mutual respect in our nation.

Pastor David Lohse expressed our calling in these words that spoke to me and that I am ending my sermon with.

We are called to witness:

To witness to the One who demonstrated power through weakness,

Who manifested strength through vulnerability,

Who established justice through mercy,

And who built the kingdom of God by embracing a confused, chaotic, and violent world,

Taking its pain into his own body,

Dying the death it sought,

And rising again to remind us that light is stronger than darkness,

Love stronger than hate,

And that with God, all things are possible.

Thanks be to God for this message, as the world has never needed it more. And thanks be to all who proclaim the radical gospel of Christ the King, so different than the world’s kings and the One who testifies to the truth,

And call us to do the same. Amen.

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