Jesus, King of the Universe
Reflections before Christ the King Sunday
Sometimes I think about unencountered or under-encountered tribes in the Amazon or Pacific islands. How different these people’s lives are to my own. How impossible-to-understand my concerns must be to them. They aren’t worried about open enrollment for health insurance this month any more than I am concerned about finding the right poison dart frog to use for the tips of my arrows. My world and their world do not interact, do not overlap, and might as well be different planets. Most importantly, they do not think or care about me and my world, and—aside from this analogy and random moments on YouTube—I don’t concern myself with their world much at all.
In the Gospel reading for this upcoming Sunday, Pilate is desperate to figure out a way to get out of this Jesus business. He asks the Lord, “Are you the king of the Jews?” and Jesus answers “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.”
Jesus is a man on trial, before what the world has called powerful. An authority figure with the threat of immense violence stands in front of Jesus. A man who can command hundreds of sword-wielding merchants of death and destruction is asking Jesus to define Himself in terms this man can understand. When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail, and Pilate has a massive hammer. Hammer and nail is the only paradigm he understands. These two figures, one imbued by Rome with authority and power and the other, a penniless itinerant Palestinian Jewish preacher with fewer and fewer allies by the second are juxtaposed in John’s passage from this week and the prisoner is acting as if he is holding all the cards.
What Pilate doesn’t see, is the King of the Universe is bound in his chamber. Life itself is awaiting His death sentence. Someone from a world Pilate doesn’t understand is being asked questions that are as irrelevant to him as me asking an Amazonian tribesman about their favorite frozen food options at Trader Joe’s. Unlike my relationship to the unreached or under-encountered tribes in far-flung places around the globe, Jesus deeply cares and concerns Himself with Pilate. Because Jesus is testifying to Pilate about the truth.
The truth is Jesus. The truth Jesus testifies to is the truth that political power, military power, and whatever worldly power structure we can conjure up are no match for the unending and unwavering love Jesus has even for the ones who pierced him. He’s the king, Caesar isn’t. He cares about you, Caesar doesn’t. Jesus in front of Pilate is talking to his beloved creation.
Christ the King Sunday was instituted as a feast day by the church in the 20th Century as a reaction to the rise of fascism and political figures who attempted to get the church to bend and ally with their political mechanisms. This Sunday, we remember the Kingdom that is not of this world, the king who loves us and freed us from death and sin.
The Ghent Altarpiece, by Jan van Eyck is one of the masterpieces of Western art. Each panel could stand alone as an astounding work, but when viewed as one work it is overwhelming.
Adam and Eve peer in on the scenes from the corners, angel musicians sing, pilgrims, martyrs, hermits, and kings process in to adore the triumphant lamb, John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary sit enthroned, and at the top center we see Christ in glory as King. He is dressed as a priest—because he continually represents us to God forever and ever—and is seated with a worldly crown at His feet. Just when you think this vision of Jesus seems too distant, too lofty, unapproachable, or irrelevant, the inscriptions around Him read, “Here is God, most powerful because of his divine majesty and high over all because of his sweet goodness and most generous in giving because of his measureless bounty.” And another reads “Life without death on his head” and another “Joy without sorrow on his right side, safety without fear on his left side.” Each of those inscriptions points to the goodness and love of God for us. His hand is raised in the sign of blessing because He wants to give His blessing to you. The Glory of God is found in His relationship with you. His desire to be with you forever. Can you fully understand Him? NO! But He concerns Himself deeply with who you are and what you care about.
His Kingdom is not of this world, and unlike the rulers of this world, He loves you. Unlike the politicos and pundits, He cares about your concerns. Unlike the folks shilling solutions from Silicon Valley, He wants you to flourish. Jesus is compelling because at every turn, no matter how hard I try, I am still rocked to my core by how much more He loves me than I realize. The realization of how much more of His “sweet goodness” I need than I thought is a daily occurrence. The life of a disciple is one of bemusement because, Hallelujah, our King and Savior wants to be with us forever.