Christ the King

Readings: Daniel 7:13-14; Revelation 1:5-8; John 18:33b-37

The exchange between Jesus and Pilate 
is one of the New Testament’s 
most politically charged moments:
Jesus is called upon 
to testify in his own defense before Pilate, 
the agent of Roman imperial power,
his life seemingly hanging in the balance.
It is an exchange concerning 
the nature of power
and the place of truth.
We have arrayed before us an alternative:
truth that is based on power
versus power that is based on truth.

The exchange is reminiscent
of a story from the Book of Esdras
that is set in the court of the Persian king Darius
Darius controls the land of Israel
and is hemming and hawing 
about letting the Jews return from Babylon
to rebuild their temple in Jerusalem.
Three of Darius’s bodyguards have a contest,
each arguing which thing in the world is the strongest,
the king having promised that he will grant the winner 
whatever it is that he requests.
The first bodyguard, probably trying to be witty, 
says that wine is the strongest thing in the world.
After all, he says, “It leads astray 
the minds of all who drink it. 
It makes equal the mind 
of the king and the orphan, 
of the slave and the free, 
of the poor and the rich.”
The second bodyguard, undoubtedly flattering Darius, 
says that kings are the strongest thing in the world,
because when they command others must obey:
“If he tells them to kill, they kill; … 
if he tells them to lay waste, they lay waste; 
if he tells them to build, they build.” 
The third bodyguard, an Israelite named Zerubbabel, 
maybe trying to bring Darius down a notch,
says that women are the strongest thing in the world.
After all, as powerful as a king might be,
it is still a woman who gives him birth,
and a woman whose beauty can easily turn his head.

But then Zerubbabel says that actually
the truth is stronger than any of the other three.
For wine can be unrighteous
and kings can be unrighteous
and women can be unrighteous,
but truth can never be unrighteous;
all of these things will pass away 
in their unrighteousness,
but “truth endures and is strong forever 
and lives and prevails forever and ever.”
Then, Zerubbabel the Israelite adds,
“Blessed be the God of truth!”
The people acclaim Zerubbabel’s answer
and king Darius must grant his request
that he be allowed to return to Jerusalem 
and rebuild the temple.

Was Jesus thinking of Darius as he stood before Pilate?
Pilate too sees power as the capacity
to tell men to kill and have them kill,
to tell them to lay waste and have them lay waste,
to tell them to build and have them build.
For Pilate, it is the power of Caesar that defines the truth,
for with his armies and his wealth and his empire
Caesar can make you bow before him
and worship him as a god.
Caesar’s word is truth because…well…
he is Caesar and he can kill you.
When Pilate asks Jesus, 
no doubt with a sneer in his voice,
“Are you the king of the Jews?”
he is really asking, 
“Where are your armies, Jesus?”
“Where is your wealth?”
“Where is your empire?”
Because, for him, these are the things
that display one’s power;
these are the things that will make people
believe the words you speak are true;
these are the things that will make people 
bow down and worship you as a god.

And when Jesus replies,
“My kingdom does not belong to this world”
he is saying, my power is not the power of armies;
my power is not the power of wealth;
my power is not the power of empires.
My power is the power of truth,
the truth of righteousness,
the truth that can never pass away. 
You may have the power to destroy my body,
but I have the power to take my body up again,
to rebuild the Temple of God’s dwelling 
that he has pitched in the midst of humanity.
Because “For this I was born 
and for this I came into the world,
to testify to the truth.” 

This exchange between Jesus and Pilate
should make us pose for ourselves 
the most fundamental political question:
is truth defined by power
or is power defined by truth?
Is truth stronger than kings,
stronger than armies and wealth and empires?
If Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega—

the truth of our beginning and the truth of our end—
and if he “has made us into a kingdom, 
priests for his God and Father,”
then we are to be like him 
faithful witnesses to the truth

in a world of lies.

We are today constantly confronted
by assaults on truth,
particularly in the realm of politics.
Typically, our politicians don’t ask us 
to bow down and worship them as gods,
but they do behave as if the power they wield
allows them to bend the truth to their will.
This sometimes takes the form 
of blatant and obvious lies,
which would be almost comical 
if they were not so widely believed. 
But it also takes the form
of more subtle assaults on truth
that employ euphemism and inuendo.
A dead civilian becomes “collateral damage”;
doctors killing patients becomes “death with dignity”;
torture becomes “enhanced interrogation techniques”;
the nascent heartbeat of an embryo becomes “cardiac activity.”

If we are to be servants of Christ the King,
if we are to be bearers of his truth,
then we must resist lies both blatant and subtle.
Like Jesus before Pilate,

we must hold fast to the power of truth,
and we must be vigilant where truth is undermined,
particularly where this threatens those 
who are most vulnerable.
We must trust that the dominion of Christ,
who is the way, the truth, and the life,
is an everlasting dominion,
because truth is stronger
and truth will triumph.
May God, who is merciful,
have mercy on us all.