Don Friesen
Next Sunday we begin the Advent season, culminating in the birth of the one whom we know as the Prince of Peace, the Lord of lords, and the King of kings! (Isaiah 9:6; 1 Timothy 6:15; Revelation 17:14; 19:16) This Sunday is an opportunity to pause before we are engulfed by these royal images and to reflect upon the nature of Jesus' royalty and realm. Today is known as Christ the King Sunday in many churches. It's a relatively new designation, instituted in 1925 by Pope Pius XI as a much-needed antidote to the up-and-coming twentieth-century dictators. Mussolini had been in power for three years; and a German rabble-rouser, who had been out of jail only a year, was finding great popular support for his fledgling Nazi party. The pope had the audacity to declare, despite dictators, that Christ was King of the universe, reminding Christians where their ultimate loyalty lay! I applaud the pope's courageous action. It was a powerful symbolic action, and if Christians had heeded his admonition, perhaps we could have avoided a catastrophe that will trouble the Western world for some time to come.
The memory of vast empires was still fresh in the popular mind a century ago, but in our own day one might well ask what is to be gained by using the language of empire and royalty. Mention the "return of the King," and many people will think you're referring to the final episode of the Lord of the Rings; or worse, to our own king-in-waiting, Prince Charles; or even worse, to yet another sighting of Elvis Presley!
Summoned Before the Powerful Pilate
Our Gospel reading uses the language of kingship, but its designation of Jesus' kingship is enigmatic, at best. Pontius Pilate, the most senior Roman official in Palestine, summoned Jesus to his headquarters and asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" (John 18:33) "Is that your own idea," asked Jesus, "or did others talk to you about me?" (18:34, NIV) Jesus' reply sounds a tad impertinent, but given that it was within Pilate's power to condemn Jesus to death, one can forgive a little wariness on Jesus' part. The whole conversation is a cautious and curious one, and I'm not sure that we get a lot of information about Jesus' kingship from this interchange. In fact, this is the only biblical story in the Gospels to use the word, "king," in reference to Jesus, and even then, it's not very definitive. It doesn't appear to be a title that Jesus welcomes or even accepts. When Pilate asks a second time whether Jesus is claiming to be a king, Jesus answers, "You say that I am a king." (18:37) As if to say, That's your opinion, not necessarily mine!
Who Were Jesus' Models of Kingship?
Christian tradition has had few problems exalting Jesus as King, but the title is not without problems. For one thing, monarchy as a system of government has changed over the centuries and that inevitably affects the way we hear the title. We might well ask, How did Jesus hear the title? If he thought of himself as a king, who were his models of kingly behaviour? It's difficult, of course, to answer the question with any certainty, but we can certainly identify some of the models available to Jesus. One was Pilate himself.
Pilate was not a king, per se, but he had a lot of power and he was an example of how one rules a kingdom. Pilate carried the vast authority of the Roman Emperor and within his area of influence he had absolute political power. For some reason Christians seem to cut Pilate a lot of slack, thinking that if he'd had the choice he would have acquitted Jesus; it was only Pilate's fear of the crowds that kept him from doing so. However, perhaps the Gospels give the impression that Pilate was weaker than was actually the case. When Pilate first arrived in Jerusalem he brought along images of the Emperor--idols to the minds of Jews--and it set off huge riots! Then he decided Jerusalem needed a better water supply, so he raided the Temple's treasury and used the money to build an aqueduct. When Jewish people protested, he had them slaughtered in the Temple! He was ruthless, and if he is a model of kingly behaviour, it is not one we see reflected in Jesus.
Israel, of course, had its own king, King Herod, though it was primarily an honorary title, and hardly that, really; the Romans simply tolerated this self-designation on Herod's part. Was Herod a model of kingship for Jesus? I doubt it! Domestically, the Herod family was about as messed-up as our modern monarchs. Herod came from a family that lived in great splendour and ruled tyrannically. I don't remember Jesus terrorizing anyone or prancing about in magnificent robes! There were those at his crucifixion that dressed him up in a purple robe and a crown of thorns and called him "King," but it was a joke--a joke humorous only to those whose idea of kingship was informed by murderous tyrants like Herod! If anything, the fact that Herod killed John the Baptist in a ridiculous example of personal indulgence may have motivated Jesus to distance himself entirely from any such notions of kingship.
If Jesus entertained any models of kingship, it would have been his ancestor, David. In the weeks ahead we will sing:
"Once in Royal David's City
We will hear that Jesus was descended from the house and family of David. (Luke 2:4) And so if Jesus fancied himself a ruler at all, it would be natural to take his ruling cues from the great King David.
The Jewish people of Jesus' day thought very highly of David; he was admired and honoured long after he was gone. Under David's rule Israel had been united, prosperous and at peace, and so, in popular memory David was a good king. In times of national chaos and insecurity Israel would look back on that golden age and wish again for a king like David. In the Old Testament book of 2 Samuel we have what purports to be David's final assessment of his own reign. The rule of a just king is compared with good weather; it "is like the sun rising on a cloudless morning, gleaming from the rain on the grassy land." (2 Samuel 23:4) When you have a good King, everything is wonderful!
Though the Scriptures hang onto this rosy memory of David, there are nonetheless some problems with this model. When you read the Old Testament stories of David, it is not altogether a pretty picture! However much Israel may have benefited from David's political genius, he was also a lying, lecherous, murdering maniac! His power went to his head and as is often the case, it corrupted him. Power became more important to him than integrity, and he began to regard himself as above the law, and above the petty moral restrictions by which common people were expected to live.
Jesus may have been of the house and lineage of David, but I don't remember Jesus lusting after one of his disciple's wives and sending the disciple away so he could spend quality time with her! (2 Samuel 11) I don't remember Jesus having all of the domestic problems that plagued David. (2 Samuel 12-14) I don't remember Jesus killing anyone, or arranging to have anyone killed! (2 Samuel 12:9)
It's hard to find a king in Jesus' day--or any day, for that matter--who might serve as a model for Jesus' kingship. The Machiavellian impulse to protect one's own interests at all costs seems to be a universal characteristic of kings. Even if you compare Jesus to the greatest of biblical kings, such a model falls far short of describing Jesus. Such comparisons inevitably make the kings look better and Jesus look worse!
The Re-writing of the Royal Script
The discussion between Jesus and Pilate indicates that if we are going to think of Jesus as a king we had better be clear that we are talking about a radically different model of kingship than that to which Pilate subscribed. If Jesus was a king, then the royal script was re-written by him. Indeed, the theological rewriting of the concept of kingship began long before Jesus. Remember, for example, that the institution of the monarchy in Israel was a concession. The people of Samuel's day said, "appoint for us ...a king to govern us, like other nations." (1 Samuel 8:5) Samuel wasn't at all pleased with their request. (8:6) And God wasn't pleased, seeing it as a rejection of His leadership, and he told Samuel, in effect, Well, let them have their way, if that's what they want, but be sure to warn them about how kings will treat them! (8:9)
The model of Jesus' kingship can be seen in the stories of David, though less in his kingly years and much more in his earlier, more humble role as shepherd. The biblical emphasis placed on David's background as a shepherd is no accident. It is the most frequently occurring theme in the Bible's theological presentation of the ideal king. The shepherds of that era virtually lived in the paddocks with the sheep, leading them from one good feeding place to the next and protecting them from all dangers. The image of the shepherd who was so attached to his sheep that he would protect them with his own life, if need, be was an ideal that was invoked to describe what a king should be, and which was, of course, later used to describe Jesus. One can even see a hint of it in the interchange between Jesus and Pilate. In answer to Pilate's second question regarding Jesus' kingship, Jesus answers, "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." (John 18:37) This latter phrase is a clear link back to Jesus' description of himself as the good shepherd in John, chapter 10 (verses 4 and 16), where the sheep follow the shepherd, not because of his power, but because they know his voice and trust in him.
In John's gospel the image of Jesus as king is a complex image played out in an ironic way, of which the purple-robe-and-crown-of-thorns scene is but one example. Some say that John deliberately interweaves three images--the imperial king of domination; the shepherd king who lays down his life for his sheep; and the mocked and humiliated "joke king". Playing with these three notions of kingship, John challenges us thereby to think carefully about what we are saying when we use the language of royalty to describe Jesus. (Nathan Nettleton, "Making a Joke of the King: A reflection on John 18:33-37)
It is one thing to speak of Jesus reigning over all creation. It is quite another to lump him in with the kings whose kingdoms are, most definitely, of this world. The notion of kingship was re-written by Jesus. It's like a book of fairy tales I saw this week. The conventions of fairy tale telling dictate that the princess marry the prince; that wolves are out to harm us; that hidden within every ugly duckling is a most beautiful swan; and so on. In this book of fairy tales, however, we meet a prince who refuses to marry the crotchety princess who complains about a lumpy mattress. We meet a wolf who would rather eat pizza than a sick, old grandmother. We meet a clever princess who bribes a friendly dragon to throw a fight so that she can marry the man of her choice. And we meet a prince who saves Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and Cinderella, but who would rather get on with his career as a clothing designer than settle down with any of them. (Newfangled Fairy Tales: Book #1, by Bruce Lansky, editor) These are fairy tales with delightful twists, and I think that Jesus was engaged in a similar re-writing of conventions--the conventions of kingship.
Jesus Was more Interested in Kingdom than in Kingship
In fact, I think Jesus was more interested in king-dom than in king-ship. Jesus' ministry in the Gospel of Matthew begins with: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." (Matthew 3:2) A similar beginning in the Gospel of Mark: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." (Mark 1:15) In the Gospel of Luke Jesus says, "I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to ...other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose." (Luke 4:43) And the Gospel of John indicates that the kingdom of God is such that our whole worldview will have to change; Jesus said, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above." (John 3:3)
The kingdom is a central theme in each New Testament Gospel. And whereas the description of Jesus as a king appears only in the enigmatic vignette with Pontius Pilate, the kingdom is mentioned eighty-three times in the Gospels! There is no doubt that the kingdom of God is a prominent New Testament theme, but the kingdom portrayed there is a strange kingdom, a kingdom, as Jesus described it to Pilate--a kingdom not of this world. It's not that this kingdom is just a spiritual kingdom, though it certainly has to do with the spirit. No, it's a kingdom intended to be lived out on earth. It's a kingdom not of this world, but we don't hear any pleas for social avoidance or withdrawal. It's not a kingdom that splits neatly into separate realms, where you follow one set of ethics when you're in church circles, but quite another when you're in the "real" world.
A Strange, Upside-down Kingdom
It is a strange kingdom, characterized well in the Book of Acts when some of the disciples were called before the powers-that-be. We read there that some believers were "dragged ...before the city authorities," their captors--or draggers--shouting, "These people ...have been turning the world upside down.... They are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus." (Acts 17:6-7) The kingdom Jesus proclaimed may not have been of this world, but it certainly threatened the kings who ruled this world.
The kingdom of which Jesus spoke is a strange kingdom in that it inverts the conventions of other kingdoms and realms. It is indeed an "upside-down" kingdom. Donald Kraybill illustrates its nature by asking us to think of two ladders, side by side, one representing the kingdom of God, the other the kingdoms of this world. An inverted relationship between the ladders means that something highly valued on one ladder ranks near the bottom of the other. (Kraybill, The Upside-Down Kingdom)
The kingdom of God is an upside-down Kingdom, in that it stands over against and challenges the values and standards of this world's kingdoms. Jesus gives us a new way of understanding and using power, both in the church and in the world. He teaches us an "upside-down" use of power, a power that serves the poor, the oppressed, the forgotten. It's a power that never steamrolls over opposition, a power, in fact, that seeks the well-being of all. It's a power that does not place those with power on a pedestal, nor does it dress itself up in fancy robes or endlessly preen itself.
The kingdom of God is also quite unlike other kingdoms of this world because it does not require military might to spread its influence. For that reason it's often thought of as a kingdom of fools! In the published diaries of Joseph Goebbels, a co-worker of one of our twentieth-century dictators, there are two or three references to Mahatma Gandhi. Goebbels believed that Gandhi was a fool. If Gandhi had the sense to organize militarily, Goebbels thought, he might have some hope of winning the freedom of India. He thought Gandhi's path of non-resistance and peaceful revolution the stuff of nonsense. And yet, as history played itself out India peacefully won her independence while the Nazi military machine was destroyed. What Goebbels regarded as weakness turned out to be strength, and what he thought of as strength turned out to be the stuff of weakness and defeat. (Kevin M. Pleas, "Sufficient Grace") An upside-down way of going about the affairs of state, indeed!
"My kingdom is not of this world," said Jesus (John 18:36, RSV) in reply to Pilate's question, adding, "If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over...." As in the case of Gandhi and Goebbels, those in Jesus' day who espoused the military option lost! And lost badly! The first readers of the Gospel of John would remember the tragedy of those who fought, and died, in the bloody debacle a few decades later (70 A.D.), when the temple and much of the city were destroyed.
When Jesus told Pilate that his followers had no need to fight to protect him, it may have sounded like a challenge to Pilate and to Pilate's way of doing things. In a sense Jesus is saying, Yes, there is a revolution in the works, and there is nothing you can do about it because it is not vulnerable to the sort of power you have at your disposal. The kingdom of God is a strange kingdom in that its power is found in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). Its power was demonstrated for us in the one who died on a cross!
Nice Titles, but How Do they Help us Today?
Though Jesus didn't appear to welcome or even accept the role of king, today's reading from the New Testament Book of Revelation has no hesitation in attributing to Jesus all sorts of titles. In his letter to the seven churches in the Roman province of Asia, John sends blessings from "him who is and who was and who is to come" (Revelation 1:4), a common title for God. Then he adds blessings from Jesus, whom he refers to as "the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth." (1:5)
The first two titles pay Jesus great honour, but it is particularly the third title that interests me. Jesus is described as the "ruler of kings on earth". The Gospels tell us that when Jesus began his ministry the devil took Jesus up onto a high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the earth and their glory and said, "All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me." (Matthew 4:8-9) The amazing thing is that what the devil promised Jesus--but could never have given him--Jesus won for himself by the suffering of the Cross and the power of the Resurrection.
Yes, the New Testament tells us that God "highly exalted (Jesus) and gave him the name ...above every name" (Philippians 2:9), but God did so, not because Jesus had conventional royal qualities, but because Jesus "humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death--even death on a cross. Therefore God...highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name...." (2:8-9)
Of what possible comfort was this to those to whom Revelation is addressed--those who were suffering terrible persecution? It was certainly of no immediate help. The kingdom of God doesn't necessarily engender optimism, but it does nurture a deep-seated hope--a hope that has survived many, many kings and emperors and empires. The kingdom of God nurtures a deep faith that when what we call time ends, and all clocks are dashed, and calendars fail, God will be there.
William Willimon tells of a doctor who graduated from Duke University and went as a missionary to Africa, there to work among victims of the AIDS virus. He lives in a region where nearly half of the population has AIDS. His hospital is so overwhelmed by the need that they put patients out under the trees, for lack of beds.
"How do you keep going?" he was asked.
"You take the long view," he said. "You cling to the possibility of hope." (Willimon, "What Time Is It?")
No easy answer, but the relentless love of God has so much resilience that it can survive anything! It will not settle for anything less than a new heaven and a new earth.
Stood a lowly cattle shed."
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.