A Homily for the Feast of Christ the King

 

Pilate therefore said unto him, “Art thou a king then?”

Jesus answered, “Thou sayest that I am a king.”

Saint John 18:37

 

 

          “Art thou a king, then?”

 

          Pontius Pilate, governor of Judaea, the personal representative of Tiberius Claudius Caesar, emperor of the Romans and ruler of Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East, asked the question.  He could not have been serious.  The man standing before him was a prisoner, accused by the leading citizens of his own province; he had no crown—though one would be provided for him soon enough—no robes, no throne, no servants, no army; he was a country bumpkin, ragged, beaten up, and deprived of sleep. 

 

          “Art thou a king, then?”

 

          What could the man be thinking?  Until a week ago, he had displayed no political ambition.  He was a wandering preacher, a rabbi, maybe a prophet of sorts.  He was an embarrassment to the religious and social establishment of the province, but hardly a threat, either to them or to Rome.  But then, last Sunday, he had ridden into Jerusalem on a donkey while his followers waved palm branches and acclaimed him as the “son of David” who was coming “in the name of the Lord.”  Son of David?  David had been this country’s greatest king; but David was a thousand years dead.

 

          “Art thou a king, then?”

 

          This is the charge they have laid against you, prisoner at the bar.  This is the only charge for which you could be made to answer in a Roman court.  You may call yourself a prophet, you may call yourself a god; you may call all the priests and Pharisees hypocrites; you may expel the money changers from the Temple.  None of that is any concern of Rome’s.  But if you say you are a king, well, that is different.  That is something Rome cannot abide.  That is treason and rebellion against your emperor.  All you have to do is say, “No,” and you will be set free from this court; so tell me,

 

          “Art thou a king, then?”

 

          Don’t tell me that you have come to bear witness to the truth.  What is truth, anyway?  Don’t you know that I have power to crucify you and power to set you free?  Why can you not answer a simple question?  Even if you had wanted to start a revolution, you can see now that you would not have gotten very far; your own people are against it, and you were no match for the power of Rome.  Give it up, just shout out a good, strong “NO” and be on your way.

 

          “Art thou a king, then?”

 

          He does not answer.  What about you, all you who sit here?  Is this man your king, then? 

 

          It is hard, in the twenty-first century, even to know what it means to say that a man is a king.  When we look at those who are called kings (or queens) nowadays, we see only pale shadows of what once was.  The kings of Sweden and Spain, and the queens of Britain and the Netherlands, are mere ceremonial figureheads in states where power is held by elected parliaments and prime ministers.   We cannot imagine King Jesus cutting the ribbon at the opening of a new shopping center or reading a speech written for him by the likes of Tony Blair or Gordon Brown.

 

          Time was when being a king meant exercising real power and commanding with real authority.  In ancient times, and even well into the middle ages, kings made laws, commanded armies, made life-or-death decisions about people and peoples, controlled vast quantities of wealth.  Time was when kings were viewed by their people with awe, with reverence, with fear.  It is quite beyond our experience today, unless we could imagine someone with the absolute political control of Kim Jong-Il, the wealth of Bill Gates, and the celebrity attention of Britney Spears.

 

          Time was when kings were the embodiment of their nations, leading their people in all great endeavours.  They were simultaneously military and religious figures, commanding the armies in battle and presiding among the priests in the temple. 

 

          In Scripture, we can read about many kings who ruled their people with an iron rod and caused empires to fall and rise.  We can read about the Pharaohs of Egypt, about Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon, about Cyrus of Persia.  We can read, too, about the succession of kings, good, bad, and indifferent, who ruled in Israel and Judea from the tenth to the sixth centuries before Christ.  But the kings who stand out are David and his son Solomon, who reigned over a united kingdom of Israel from about 1010 b.c. to about 930 b.c., an eighty year period of military triumph and economic prosperity.  This was the golden age that the Jews believed the Messiah would restore.

 

          When the Messiah came, it must have seemed a terrible disappointment to those Jews.  He did not bring either military victory or economic prosperity.  If he was a king, he was not the kind of king they were looking for.  Even his closest disciples, even after he had been killed and was risen again, asked him:  “Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?”  Even they, even then, looked for the return of the Davidic golden age.

 

          But Jesus did not come to restore the Davidic monarchy.  He did not come to bring back the golden age of the old kingdom of Israel.  Although he himself said that he could summon legions of angels, he did not come to lead a victorious army against the Roman Empire.

 

          Is he a king, then?

 

          Jesus proclaimed the coming of a kingdom.  His first recorded words, after his baptism by John in Jordan and his trial in the wilderness, were:  “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”  Throughout his earthly ministry he preached about that kingdom.  In his parables he told what the kingdom of heaven is like:  it is like a grain of mustard seed, it is like leaven in a lump of dough, it is like a net cast into the sea, it is like a king who made a marriage for his son.  And he taught us to pray for the coming of the kingdom:  “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy Name; thy kingdom come!” 

 

          Where is, then, this kingdom.  Jesus said:  “The kingdom of heaven is at hand.”  Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is among you; the kingdom of heaven is within you.”  But he also said, “My kingdom is not of this world.”  It is a kind of paradox:  the kingdom is in the world, but it is not of the world.  And yet, it is not a future kingdom, but a present kingdom.  Jesus does not tell us that we will enter his kingdom when we die.  Jesus invites us, commands us, to become citizens of his kingdom even while we live this life in this world.

 

          The Jews of the first century thought that the Messiah would come and lead them to victory over the Roman Empire.  They imagined that their enemy was Rome, as in the past it had been Babylon, or Assyria, or Egypt.  They imagined that their problem was that the Israelite nation had been made subject to foreign armies and foreign rulers.  But that was not the problem at all. 

 

          The problem was that the human race had been made subject to enemies far worse than Rome or Babylon.  The human race was defeated and in bondage to Satan, sin, and death.  And when the Messiah came, he came to break those bonds and to triumph over powers of darkness.


          Saint Paul wrote to the Colossians, and to us:  God “hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son:  in whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins.”   God has transferred our citizenship from the kingdom of Satan to the kingdom of Jesus Christ, God’s dear Son; and has conferred on us all of the privileges of citizenship in that kingdom.  Saint Paul went on to tell the Colossians what was expected of them as citizens of the kingdom of heaven:

 

Put to death, then, the parts of you that are earthly: immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and the greed that is idolatry. . . .  By these you too once conducted yourselves, when you lived in that way.  But now you must put them all away: anger, fury, malice, slander, and obscene language out of your mouths.  Stop lying to one another, since you have taken off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed, for knowledge, in the image of its creator.

 

          The kingdom of heaven is within us and among us; but although we are citizens of that kingdom, we dwell still in the kingdoms of this world, where sin and death still seem to hold sway.  And yet the time is drawing nigh, and the day will soon come when “great voices [will be heard] in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdom of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.”

 

          And with the psalmist we shall sing:

 

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors;

and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is this King of glory?

It is the LORD strong and mighty, even the LORD mighty in battle.

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors;

and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is this King of glory?

Even the LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory.

 

 


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