Last Before Advent
 

Today is the feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday in the Church’s calendar.  Advent begins next week.  We end the year by declaring Jesus as King over our lives.  But what does that mean?

To be a king is to hold a position of profound influence and authority over people.  In biblical times, kings reigned over a geographical area, often cities, and they had absolute power in their area of jurisdiction.  Their chief duty was to maintain righteousness and to administer justice.  The word ‘kingdom’ literally means the king’s domain, the area over which he reigned. Today, kings and queens are more likely to be nominal heads of state.  They still hold positions of influence, but they rarely hold much real power.  What kind of a king do we think Jesus is?  Do we think of him like a biblical king, with power to dispense righteousness and justice?  Or like our monarchy today, more like a nominal head of state? 

Our Old Testament reading certainly gives us a magnificent picture of the power and authority of the Almighty One, who we would call God the Father.  The reading is part of a judgment scene, and follows the first of Daniel’s visions.  In his vision, Daniel sees four beasts emerge from the sea, one like a lion, one a bear, one a leopard, and one unlike any animal but more terrifying and ferocious that the rest.   The four beasts are thought to represent four kingdoms, probably Babylonia, Syria, Persia and Greece.  They were all significant rulers in Old Testament times, and they all oppressed God’s people.  Of course, all four kingdoms have subsequently long ceased to exist. The reading begins as the Almighty One convenes a court and presides over it, to consider the deeds of these four beasts.  The judgment is that the fourth beast must be put to death, and the other three are stripped of their power but allowed to live.  This is quite a sobering passage for anyone who holds a position of authority today.  Jesus himself tells us that nobody has any power other than that which has been given to them by God.  The reading reminds us that what God gives, he can also take away, and when he gives people power and authority, he holds them accountable for how they use it.  Perhaps we see echos of this type of judgment with situations like the recent expenses scandal in our national government.  I don’t know about you, but personally, whilst I felt shocked by the revelations about politicians expenses, I’m glad they came to light.  Most people in government exercise their duties wisely and responsibly, but where corruption exists it needs to be exposed and dealt with.  In the short term the fallout is messy, but in the longer term public confidence can then be restored. 

Going back to our reading from Daniel, at verse 13 a man comes on clouds, and the Almighty One gives him dominion and glory and kingship over all nations and all people. Although this text was probably not intended as a prophesy of the long-expected Messiah, we often read it today as referring to Jesus.  New Testament writers used it extensively in articulating their vision of his second coming. But if God has given Jesus dominion and kingship over everything, what do we expect from that? 

Expectations are everything, because we look for what we expect to see.  A few months ago, Paul and I returned from a holiday on our wedding anniversary, to find a card from our eldest son.  It was a surprise, because Dan doesn’t usually do cards.  We arrived home late, after travelling for 18 hours, so we just opened the card and didn’t pay much attention.  The next morning, it caught my attention as I walked past, and it was only then that I noticed the words on the front.  They said, “Happy anniversary to special grandparents”.  Now that might not seem unusual, unless you know that we don’t have any grandchildren.  I handed the card to Paul and asked if he noticed anything strange about it.  He glanced at it, and said no.  I asked again.  This time, he read the front, and looked as puzzled as I felt.  We then had a moment of wondering whether our son had brought the wrong card.  It took a very tactful phone call to find out the truth.  Dan had not bought the wrong card.  He was trying to surprise us with the news that his wife was pregnant.  The problem was, we were not expecting that, so we just didn’t see it.  We just assumed it was a normal anniversary card.  In the meantime, they were sitting at home waiting for us to phone to congratulate them!  Abi even left a message on facebook asking why parents took so long to open their mail! 

The point is, our expectations had shaped what we’d see, and what we’d not seen. So what do we expect to see if Jesus is King today?  Does it mean everything in our life and in the world should be fair and just?  If that’s the case, it’s not how it is.  So is Jesus NOT on the throne? We need to look at what Jesus said about his kingship, and how he displayed it.  The Gospel reading gives us a window into this.

Previously in John’s Gospel, Jesus has been arrested and questioned by Annas and Caiaphas.  The Jewish leaders now bring him to Pilate, who is the Roman governor of Judea and has jurisdiction over it.  The Jewish authorities want Jesus dead, and declared this back in chapter 11.  But they have no power to pronounce the death penalty on him, and they can only succeed with Pilate's help.  He isn’t keen to be implicated in their scheme, and tries to distance himself from them.  But they are persistent.

The reading begins as Pilate takes Jesus inside to question him privately.  At once the main charge becomes obvious, as Pilate asks him “Are you the king of the Jews?”  Many theologians suggest a note of disbelief here, as if Pilate couldn’t match up the charge against Jesus with the sight of this beaten and bound, humiliated, humbled man who was before him.  Yet despite Jesus’ apparent powerlessness, he quickly turns the tables on Pilate, answering him with a question.  This forces Pilate into a defensive position and gives Jesus the upper hand, in a sense putting Pilate on trial.  Jesus wants to know whether Pilate’s questions are his own, or whether his agendas are being driven from elsewhere.  His question evokes a somewhat contemptuous response as Pilate retorts “I am not a Jew am I?  Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me.”  Pilate, despite his apparent power, appears quite intimidated by Jesus.  On the other hand, Jesus, despite his apparent powerlessness, appears completely in control.

Jesus then partially answers Pilate’s question by acknowledging that in a sense, he is a king, but his kingdom is not of this world.  If his kingdom were of this world, his followers would fight to stop him being handed over.  But there is no place in Christ’s kingship for violence, aggression, or human effort alone.  His kingdom is not exercised like any earthly kingdom. All our perceptions of what it is to be rich, powerful or successful are meaningless. But Jesus IS on the throne. It’s a past victory.

If we look at Jesus it wasn’t in physical strength, or divine power, or with the help of heavenly angels, or even by calling on God to intervene, that he was exalted to the right hand of the Father.  It was through endurance of suffering, and trusting God unto death. Philippians 2 puts it like this: “Jesus Christ, though he was in his very nature God, did not cling to equality with God but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, and being born in human likeness.  He humbled himself to death, even death on a cross.  THEREFORE God exalted him ….”

Christ’s Kingship has a topsy-turvy power dynamic, where strength is found in weakness, and where death brings forth life.  Sometimes for us too, Jesus’ power and comfort may be more manifest in pain and suffering than in the everyday things. But he IS on the throne. It’s a present reality.

If we’re only looking for his kingship in earthly perceptions of power, authority, justice and righteousness, we will only see half the picture.  We also need to look for Christ’s kingship in the little things; quiet influence, humility in service, comfort in affliction, strength in weakness.

I was very touched on Friday to hear on the news about the floods in Cumbria, and the tragedy of the policeman who was swept away when a bridge collapsed.  Yesterday would have been his 45^th birthday.  He leaves a widow and four children.  His widow made a statement saying she felt comforted that he had died doing the job he loved.  I don’t know whether he was a Christian, but for me his wife’s comments demonstrate Christ’s kingship in such tragedy.  Such things shouldn’t happen, but they do, because we live in an imperfect world.  Yet the widow is comforted that her husband lost his life serving others.  Isn’t that the message of the cross?  In the pain of death, God is there with us in his son, Jesus Christ.  May God grant that family peace and solace in their grief. Jesus’ kingship is also a future hope.

When we declare Jesus King over all the world, and over our lives, we shouldn’t be looking for everything to be cosy and perfect.  There will be a day when everything is made perfect, but not until Jesus comes again.  In the meantime, we have glimpses of what that might be like, but the reality will always fall short. But faith is believing that despite pain and suffering, and the injustice in this world, Christ IS King, he IS on the throne, and he WILL come again one day to make all things right.  It’s in that confidence that we declare him OUR King today. And until he returns, we, the church, have the job of working with the Holy Spirit to advance God’s Kingdom.  That means each of us doing what we can to make this world a better place today.  Some of us may have large areas of influence, others small.  We may think we’ve got nothing to offer, because our efforts are just a drop in the ocean.  But as Mother Teresa famously said, “don’t you know dear, the ocean is made up of drops”. So let's all commit our lives again to the Kingship of Jesus Christ today, pledging to do what we can to make this world a better place until he comes to make it perfect. Amen.