24 November 2024 Reign of Christ Sunday

2 Samuel 23.1-7    Psalm 132.1-12    Revelation 1.4b-8    John 18.33-37

We have now reached the end of the 27 weeks of ‘ordinary time’ since we celebrated Pentecost, and next week we commence a new liturgical year with the sacred season of Advent.  But today, we look at ‘Christ the King’ or the ‘Reign of Christ’.  And in our gospel we find a verse which ‘maybe’ has at least two different lenses through which we can look. 

36Jesus answered, ‘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.’  

I think I have usually seen this statement as Jesus denying his connection to the worldly kingdom of Pilate, his own accusers, and us.  In this sense, Jesus is asserting his independence, he is saying that this world and its powers have no power of him, and they cannot determine his fate.  Much like Jesus’ words in John 10 “No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.  I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again.”   So I have viewed this passage as Jesus telling Pilate that if this conflict were occurring in his kingdom, his followers would fight, but because it is happening in this other kingdom, a kingdom that cannot keep hold of him, his followers do not get involved.

But I have recently been encouraged to view this passage through a different lens.  I have been encouraged to see that ‘maybe’ what Jesus is saying is that were he and his followers of this world, they would, naturally, use the primary tool of this world for establishing and keeping power: that is, violence.  But since Jesus is not of this world, he will not defend himself through violence.  Jesus will not establish his claims through violence.  He will not usher in God’s kingdom by violence.  Jesus will not make followers by violence.

Instead, Jesus tells us, he has come to witness to the truth, the truth that God is love, and because we have not seen God and have such a difficult time imagining God, we usually default to our lived experience.  So rather than imagining God as love, we imagine God as violent, because we live in a violent world.  Instead of seeing the cross as a symbol of sacrificial love, we see it as the legal mechanism of punishing Jesus instead of us, because we have a long lived experience of punitive relationships.  Rather than believing that God’s grace and acceptance are absolute and unconditional, we default to seeing God’s offer of love, power and status to be on the condition we fear, obey and praise God – and despise those who don’t – because we live in a world dominated by quid pro quo.

But Jesus is not of this world.  Therefore, his followers will not fight for him, because to use violence to bring about his kingdom would violate the very principles of this kingdom and cause its destruction.  And in light of the events of the world around us, in the Middle East, Russia, Ukraine, Sudan, and the myriad of other ‘hot spots’ across our world, could there be a more timely passage for us to reflect on.  We live in a world dominated by the view that the only answer to violence is more violence.  But the only outcome of that view is death.

So, you may ask, does this mean that Jesus is calling us to be pacifists.  There are some traditions, like the Mennonites, Quakers, and Brethren, who give strong testimony to the power of Christian non-violence.  And these counter-cultural and courageous witnesses have, at times, shaken the powers that be, so we dare not dismiss or discard them.  Our own faith tradition, and those of many other similar faith traditions, stress that temporal authorities like armies and law enforcement have critical roles to play in creating an orderly and more just world.  And in keeping with this tradition, the perpetrators of international and national violence and terrorism should be vigorously opposed and  brought to justice whenever possible, so that there will be less violence in the world.

But as members of the Church and followers of a very different kind of king we need to witness that there are limits to the reach and outcome of force.  Martin Luther King Jr. once wrote:

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.  Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.  Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.  Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder the hate.  In fact, violence merely increases the hate.  So it goes.  Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.  Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.  Hate cannot dive out hate: only love can do that.

So, what are we to glean from all that we have found in today’s readings that will enrich our lives into the future.  As we gather today, let us pray that God will comfort those who mourn; strengthen those who seek to thwart terrorists and bring them to justice; change the hearts of those who see violence as the only option; and equip all of us to work for a peace born of equity because that is the only peace that will last.  And after praying, let us witness to the One:

who demonstrated power through weakness,

who manifested strength through vulnerability,

who established justice through mercy,

and who built the kingdom of God by embracing a confused, chaotic, and violent world, taking its pain into his own body, dying the death it sought, and rising again to remind us that light is stronger that darkness, love is stronger than hate, and that with God, all good things are possible.

And when we look around us today, that message has never been more needed.  Let us continue to proclaim the radical gospel of Christ, the King who is so different from the world’s kings, and the One who testifies to the truth and calls us to do the same.