Christ the King (B) – John 18:33-37
“Ridiculous! Absurd!” Pilate thought to himself, as the strange young carpenter from Nazareth was brought before him. “This man – the king of the Jews?” Here was a poor man from the wrong part of the country. His small band of followers, after putting up a token, brief resistance, had all fled and abandoned him. What threat could Jesus possibly pose? Still, this was a volatile people. One never knew who or what would spark the next rebellion. Better to snuff out any potential trouble now.
After all, Rome wanted order – which it defined as submission to its authority. It was Pilate’s job, as procurator, to maintain order under his watch. Moreover, Pilate knew about kings and kingdoms and how they worked. One became a king either by being the designated successor of the current king, or by successfully leading a revolt and overthrowing the current king. There couldn’t be two kings in the same country. The rise of one meant the fall of the other. Only one could win. It was what people today call a zero-sum game.
How could Jesus be taken seriously as a king, as a rival to Caesar himself? Still, Pilate took no chances. He asked Jesus – perhaps barely suppressing a sneer or chuckle as he did so – “Are you (of all people) the King of the Jews?”
Pilate knew what to expect at a trial like this. The accused would either launch into some impassioned defense of his cause and a condemnation of his enemies (or even his supporters who failed him) before being sentenced, or would acknowledge the reality of the situation, deny being a king, and beg for the mercy of the court.
Jesus did neither. Instead, Jesus responded with a question of his own. “Are you asking me this because you are interested in the answer, or because you have a job to do and are just following orders?” Pilate’s contempt for the people he governed came oozing out: “I am no Jew, am I? I have no interest in your laws and strange beliefs. Your own people have handed you over to me. You must be guilty of some serious crime. What have you done?”
Jesus then speaks of a kingdom, but not the kind of kingdom Pilate knows about. “My kingdom”, Jesus replied, “does not belong to this world”. Jesus is not saying that his kingdom has nothing to do with this world. Jesus himself insisted that he came in order to offer salvation to the world. He sends his followers into the world to proclaim his message. No, Jesus means that his kingdom does not come about according to the world’s usual methods. He is not preaching armed rebellion against Rome. No worldly effort can bring about this kingdom. In fact, Jesus’ kingdom is not a zero-sum game. Pilate could join Jesus’ kingdom and still serve Caesar. Caesar himself could believe in Jesus and yet still be emperor. But he would be emperor in a different way if he believed in Jesus. Pilate would govern in a different way if he believed in Jesus.
Why? Jesus speaks of his kingdom as a belonging to the truth. “Anyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice”. This belonging to the truth isn’t only about intellectual truth, such as doctrines, though it obviously includes them. Truth has content and form. It is this, and not that. Still, the truth that Jesus is speaking of is more. It’s something people belong to. It’s something that calls forth one’s total allegiance. It is the pearl of great price, for which one sells everything to obtain. It is the one necessary thing, that becomes the center of everything else. Truth is ultimately a person – Jesus himself. Those who belong to the truth necessarily belong to Jesus.
Pilate, who may be a pragmatist or a relativist at heart, can only scoff at such talk. “What is truth?”, he says. Isn’t truth anything that Caesar says it is? Isn’t it anything that gets me what I want, or where I want to be? Because Pilate has this notion of truth, he finds himself too compromised. He thinks Jesus is innocent of the charges against him, yet cannot bring himself to free Jesus. He has nothing solid to stand on that would enable him to make such a choice. Truth is convenience, he believes, so he chooses the more convenient option.
Our faith makes some radical claims about Jesus as King. By faith, we know that Jesus is the true King – not merely of each believer as an individual, or of all Christians as a whole, but king of every people, every race, every nation. King of our planet. King of the universe. Jesus is King of all creation.
Yet, the kingship of Jesus is something we perceive by faith. It is not obvious to the causal observer. So much still goes on that seems, at first glance, to be totally contrary to what Jesus lived and taught. Even the most sincere believers struggle to be faithful to the Lord and to one another. Even saints stumble at times. Faith in Jesus as King now can seem as absurd as the idea must have seemed to Pilate so many centuries ago.
But there is more. Even believers resist the kingship of Jesus. We believe in him and turn our lives over to him. He begins with a part of our lives that we most wanted him to manage. But he doesn’t stop there. He moves out from there and begins to draw every other aspect of our lives under his authority and power.
We resist. We fear that we are losing our independence. Losing our own little kingship. Losing our freedom. We fear, as Pilate did, that there can only be one king. Either Jesus is king or I am. We fear it is just another worldly zero-sum game. If Jesus gains, I must lose. So, we pull back. We compromise. We give Jesus some, but not all, of our hearts. We seek to maintain some illusion of independence, freedom, and kingship over our lives.
However, we are all wired to be followers of a king. No one can serve two masters. If Jesus isn’t king of some area of our lives, then something else will take over – something that may tell us how free we are, but something which makes us more enslaved, less kingly, than ever. It’s only when we do turn over every aspect of our lives to Jesus, and let him rule and gradually transform us, that we are truly freed. Belonging to Jesus makes us all kings in the deepest sense. We are no longer totally enslaved by sins and harmful habits. We begin to know a freedom from such things which comes from the freedom to truly love all people and all things as God loves them. Once we experience the power of Christ in our lives, in our weaknesses, then we begin to see how he can be, even now, King of all creation. We begin to hope for the day when his rule will arrive in its fullness. We know that what Christ is doing for us, he is also doing for all that exists. One day, his rule will be manifest. Until then, his kingship lives in the hearts of all who obey him – all those who belong to the truth.