33 Pilate went back into the palace. He
summoned Jesus and asked, “Are you the king of the Jews?”
34 Jesus answered, “Do you say this on
your own or have others spoken to you about me?”
35 Pilate responded, “I’m not a Jew, am
I? Your nation and its chief priests handed you over to me. What have you
done?”
36 Jesus replied, “My kingdom doesn’t
originate from this world. If it did, my guards would fight so that I wouldn’t
have been arrested by the Jewish leaders. My kingdom isn’t from here.”
37 “So you are a king?” Pilate said.
Jesus answered, “You say that I am a
king. I was born and came into the world for this reason: to testify to the
truth. Whoever accepts the truth listens to my voice.”
"My
kingdom is not of this world,” says Jesus. No kidding. That seems pretty
obvious. Yet at the same time, working for Jesus’ kingdom, praying for “thy
kingdom come” is a rather difficult endeavor when it seems so far away from the
reality that we know and in which we live. The kingdoms of our world could
hardly be more opposite than the kingdom Jesus has in mind.
When we
hear the word “king” or “kingdom,” any number of images may come to mind. Maybe we think of a gilded throne, a crown
encrusted with jewels, or a royal palace.
Maybe we think of fine robes, vast riches, huge tracts of land. Maybe we think of power and authority, giving
commands and orders that are followed or else.
All of this is part of a certain image when we think of the word “king,”
something regal, something with pomp and circumstance – we have this image from
the world around us of who a king is and what a king does, and Jesus just
doesn’t fit these notions.
Today
is Christ the King Sunday, we celebrate this Sunday precisely because of our
Christian belief that Jesus is the King of kings. He is the fulfillment of the
covenant made with David to forever have one of his heirs sitting on the cosmic
throne (2 Samuel 23). When Handel’s Messiah
gets performed and played umpteen times across the upcoming holiday season,
those who belt out the words “King of kings and Lord of lords” in the famous
“Hallelujah Chorus” will be stating it plainly: Jesus is King.
But in
John 18 we encounter that King in a most compromised and humble station. Hands
bound behind him, his lip split and his cheek puffy from where one of the high
priest’s officials had whacked him (cf. John 18:22), Jesus doesn’t look like a
king. More like a car accident victim.
Or someone who went one too many rounds with Rocky Balboa in the boxing ring.
By
contrast, Pilate, the Roman governor, looks the role of a king-like figure. A
palace, a garrison of soldiers, the ability to decide another man’s fate with a
word or a gesture. Like any important
person, Pilate’s schedule was probably chockfull of appointments and meetings
and P.R. appearances. The last thing he
had time for was this man from Nazareth (who looked about as threatening as
Murray the Grocer) – this would-be “King of the Jews.”
Pilate
almost felt sorry for this Jesus fellow who now stood before him – what a
pathetic and preposterous notion that this Jesus could, in any conceivable or
credible way, be considered a king.
And
perhaps that’s exactly the point. Jesus
just doesn’t fit the part of what we understand about kings and kingdoms. We’ve taken the sum total of everything we
know and have observed about the power structures of this world, we’ve tried to
impose those onto Jesus, and Jesus just doesn’t fit the part.
How
often have we placed expectations upon someone else? How often have others failed to live up to
our expectations? Imposing our own set
of expectations on other people is a guaranteed recipe for frustration,
disappointment, and heartache. I’ve
found that my pre-conceived notions and unspoken expectations on others are an
unnecessary burden in my relationships with them.
I don’t
know about you, but I don’t want to be the kind of person who is constantly
disappointed in others because they didn’t live up to my expectations of what I
think they should do and be. Rather, I
want to be the kind of person who can notice and appreciate who they are on
their own terms, with their unique gifts and perspectives. Often, they bring things to the table that
surprise me and challenge me and force me to re-think my pre-conceived
ideas. But when our hearts and minds are
open and ready to receive and appreciate, we see things that move us past our
own understanding and expectations, such that we catch a glimpse of something
more.
When it
comes to our expectations on Jesus and his kingdom, he confounds and challenges
us in the same way. Jesus’ vision for us
is simply, “something more.” Something
more than our expectations, something more than our pre-conceived notions,
something more than what we are so often willing to settle for.
Growing
up in Western New York, I have always been a Buffalo Bills fan from a young
age. I thought there was a direct
correlation between the intensity of my prayers for a Bills win and how they
actually performed on the field. When
they won, it was obviously because of whatever God and I worked out in my
prayers, and when they lost, it was obviously because I just hadn’t prayed hard
or long enough.
For
several years, my sister and her husband lived in southern Massachusetts. They live in Hickory, now, but my nephews are
still fans of, God bless them, the New England Patriots. Can you believe it, the Patriots? Can anything good
come out of Foxborough?
So, you
can imagine a scenario in which the two teams are playing one another; I am
praying for a Bills victory, my nephews are praying for a Patriots victory, but
at the end of the day, only one of those prayers is going to be answered. Does that mean that God was listening to one
side and ignoring the other? Does it
mean that God favors one over the other?
Or, does it mean that, in our smallness, we were both praying for things
we wanted and desired, without the realization that God’s desire and will was
about something more than the outcome of a football game?
Likewise,
could it be that the will of God, the kingdom of God, is about something more
than our own personal desires and expectations?
Something more than what we want or demand, because Jesus wants more for
us than we often want for ourselves.
The way
of his kingdom is probably not the way we would choose. Not what we desire. Not what we asked for, not what we
wanted. We have trouble recognizing the
kingdom of Jesus because it doesn’t look like what we expected.
As
people of faith, we all want God’s kingdom to come. We pray for it every time we pray the Lord’s
Prayer. But we short-circuit who Jesus is when we forget that the resurrected
Jesus was first the crucified Jesus.
David Crowder says, “Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants
to die.” We all want the gain without
the pain, we all want to enjoy the benefits without having to pay the costs.
We all
want the resurrected Jesus, the ascended to the right hand of God the Father
and reigning in glory Jesus. We want
separating-the-sheep-from-the-goats Jesus, riding in on clouds of thunder
Jesus, smiting the evil and wicked Jesus – that’s
the Jesus we’re all waiting on, glory hallelujah! Instead, we get the “my kingdom is not of
this world” Jesus, the “if it were, my people would be fighting you” Jesus.
We all
want Jesus the victorious, Christ the conqueror, and, yes, the story will get
there, but we cannot ignore the road it takes in doing so.
There
are countless stories from literature and history of kings and queens who would
disguise themselves in common clothes and sneak out to mingle among the
people. The ones I admire most are the
ones who were trying to gain an understanding of what ordinary people were
going through, taking on some of their situation.
In
Jesus, we have a king who did the same thing – one who willingly left the
splendor of heaven in order to become one of us, to experience what we
experience, to take on the fullness of our humanity with all its frailties and
weaknesses, subjecting himself to and taking on powers and forces in our world
that are less-than-noble – Jesus did all of that because of his great love for
us! Our King is none other than Jesus
who humbled himself and became one of us in order to redeem all of us.
Jesus
stands before Pilate with all power and authority at his fingertips, yet he
refuses to use it to his own advantage.
Won’t use it for self-preservation or personal gain. John Wesley said “Love is God’s reigning
attribute,” and in Jesus’ resolution to give himself in order to give life to
the whole world, we see that primary characteristic of God’s abundant and
unconditional love on full display for all to see.
Both
the way into and the way of Jesus’ kingdom is the way of self-giving,
sacrificial love. Yet, you and I don’t have
the strength or the character or the resolve to love like that, so we look to
the One who does, and we ask for his help to live his way, that we might be
selfless and generous toward others as God in Christ has been toward us, that
as, the recipients and beneficiaries of matchless love and infinite grace, we
might show that love and grace toward others.
And
friends, that’s the hard part. For
people of faith, we must each come to a point where we stop trying to squeeze
Jesus into a box that satisfies our expectations and desires. Being a follower of Jesus is living such
that, by the grace of God, his way becomes our way.
Being a
follower of Jesus will be the most counter-cultural thing you can do. When we find ourselves trying to cozy up to
the structures of this world, King Jesus just won’t let us fit in. Too much forgiveness and turning the other
cheek. Too much compassion and not
enough common sense. Too much practicing
peace and not enough displays of power. Too
much love and grace, not enough might when he had every right – that’ll get you
killed in a world like ours – what kind of king would go for that?
Our
king would, and he did. He followed that
grace-filled path all the way to his death on a cross, where the ironic,
upside-down nature of God’s kingdom was put on full display for all the world
to see. No greater love than to lay down
one’s life for one’s friends, Jesus’ reign of love and light at its pinnacle
when he was lifted high for all the world to see – lifted not to a throne, but
on the hard, cruel wood of a Roman cross.
It looks to most like the moment of greatest defeat, but to those who
can see it through the eyes of faith, it is God’s greatest victory as his
strength is made perfect in weakness.
If you’re
looking for the coming kingdom, don’t look to the powerful and wealthy. No,
start looking for the scarred ones. The
ones who are burdened, who are bruised, beat-up and broken. Look to them and treat them with Love, for a
king moves among them.
What
kind of king is this? He’s our
king. Not the king we would have chosen,
but definitely the one we need.
“My
kingdom is not of this world,” says Jesus.
No kidding. And thank God.
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