*this post was written for the Atlanta Bar Church website for Christ the King Sunday, 2018
John 18:33-37
Standing before Pilate, someone who could sentence him either to death or set him free at a moment’s notice, if Jesus was to claim to be the “king of the Jews,” he would be guilty of treason in the eyes of the empire because the emperor in Rome was “rightful” king over the Jews. Jesus responded to Pilot’s interrogation, saying “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over…. You say that I am a king.”
Who is this Jesus who refuses political power?
As “little Christs,” we declare that Jesus is “King of kings and Lord of lords,” but what does that mean if Jesus never desired to lead a Jewish revolt against the Roman occupiers nor to be a king in the conventional sense? What does it mean for our allegiance with Jesus, as the only one we bend our knees toward if Jesus asks us to pray for those who seek to harm us, “turn the other cheek,” and forgive those who have done us wrong way more times than most would ever be okay doing? (As an aside, forgiving and letting a toxic/abusive person back into one’s life are two entirely separate things. I hold to the view [attributed to St. Francis of Assisi] that we forgive to release the burdens of wrongdoing placed upon us so that we may live more freely to accept and celebrate all that is good, holy, and beneficial.)
This “King of kings and Lord of lords” humbled himself to the point of death. He came to serve and not be served. Jesus’ kingship is bound to neither nationalism nor geographical boundaries. Christ’s power is wielded through profound love and collaboration, not acts of domination nor subjugation.
The Kingdom of God is always worth living and dying for, but never worth killing for and yet many still murder in God’s name….
As “little Christs,” we are called to the ministry of the baptised, the missio Dei, to share our resources and to ensure that the poor among us, the widow, the orphan, the foreigner, the marginalized, the refugee, and the stranger are welcomed and cared for with the same affection Jesus has for us. In doing such we further the kin(g)dom of God:
our words, our time
intentionally well wasted
well spent in kind
intimate and sacred
exploring, discovering
reaching and risking
trusting though at times
we will each other fail
responding ideally
with forgiveness
and reconciliation
and justice when necessary
persisting forward
with hearts so frail
Turning to one another
with Sacred regard
we proclaim:
you are worth
the risk
the labor
the pursuit
the effort
my courage
and my fears
my honesty
and my prayers
to embrace and let go
for in such all will know
we share a generous presence
and genuine affection
rather than mere imitation.
Empires rise and fall. Violent revolutions come to an end. So far, God willing, the way of Christ continues on as a most beautiful way of living and being in the world.
When I read John 18:33-37, one passage that sticks out to me is “everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Meditating on this, a prayer begins to take shape:
One for the quieting our minds and tuning out of the cacophony of voices from those who seek to divide and frighten.
Another that we better recognize the voice of Jesus beckoning to us to heed the common call for reconciliation, and to be advocates for justice and restoration as we speak truth to power:
In the face of bigotry
let’s stand up for the oppressed
and give them a voice
so they too may express
let’s stand up for the oppressed
and give them a voice
so they too may express
desires for dreams come true
embracing all that’s empowering
so that together we all may sing
embracing all that’s empowering
so that together we all may sing
as we live bravely
