The Most Unusual King

Text: John 18:33-37

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            Pontius Pilate had no idea what to expect as he walking into his judgment hall. He’d been awakened in the night because the Sanhedrin—that council of constant thorns in his flesh—had demanded an immediate trial of this man who they claimed was starting a rebellion. Pilate had no interest in caving to their unreasonable demand for a trial in the middle of the night, but he did know that Caesar had no patience for rebellions and this backwater region of Judea had a long history of hardheaded revolts. The Sanhedrin said this man on trial was claiming to be the King of the Jews, so Pilate supposed it was a credible threat that should be dealt with sooner rather than later.

            But what Pilate saw before him baffled him. Instead of a bombastic energetic leader of men, here stood before him a quiet man with a black eye that looked very new and raw. He wasn’t yelling in His own defense. He wasn’t resisting the soldiers that had brought Him in. When he asked if this meek man was the King of Jews, He answered with a question of His own, “Do you say this of your own accord, or did others say it to you about me?” When Pilate asked Him what He’d done, this defendant didn’t give a defense or plead His case at all. He simply said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” So He did admit to being a king, at last—maybe not the confession of being King of the Jews, as Pilate was investigating, but a king nonetheless. “Aha, so you are a king?” Pilate asked. And then this unusual suspect started speaking about purpose and destiny: “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate couldn’t help but stand in wonder, and with some confusion, at this man who wasn’t a king, and yet was. What kind of king is this?

            And as Pilate wondered, so we all wonder: What kind of King is Jesus? We all have our expectations of rulers. We know how leaders of nations conduct themselves. And so, when we speak and sing of Jesus as King, we certainly would expect Him to run His kingdom like every other worldly leader. That is to say, we like to assume that we know how His realm would be structured—the King is on top, and the people, the citizens, us, we serve Him. That’s how every other nation is structured (and don’t kid yourself—it’s that way even in democracies, even in our own; the leaders enjoy privileges and lifestyles that the ordinary citizenry does not).

            And yet, it is not so in this King’s domain. His servants don’t serve Him, not in the way that the world’s servants serve the world’s kings. “If my kingdom were of this world,” Jesus says, “my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews.” Even when one of His people did fight, when Peter drew his sword and struck the high priest’s servant’s ear, Jesus told Peter to stop. His kingdom would not be defended by fighting. Things are different in His domain.

            Our expectation, based on experience with this world’s kingdoms, is that the King would reward His faithful and those friendly to Him while punishing those who were His enemies. It doesn’t take long for us to find examples of that throughout our world. And yet, shortly after this abomination of a trial, what would Jesus say of His enemies? “Father, punish them? Give them what they deserve?” No, He says, “Father, forgive them,” even as they are nailing Him to the cross.

            Our expectation of a king, based on the kingdoms of this world, are that of splendor, majesty, a throne, a scepter, and crown, all of gold, that most regal of metals. But on this King’s head there is a crown, but of thorns. In His hand is a reed scepter, given in mockery, replaced with an iron scepter of the nails hammered into His hands. His throne is no comfortable kingly seat. It is a wooden cross where this King will take His place before His subjects.

            Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world. It will never look or operate the way of any earthly regime, administration, kingdom, empire, or dynasty. His kingdom is altogether different. When every earthly regime, administration, kingdom, empire, or dynasty eventually ends, His will last forever. Where earthly domains operate based on power, His is about mercy—favoring the powerless, sharing with the least worthy, by any earthly standard. Where worldly realms are governed by the will of the strongest, His is governed by grace—good things given to the weakest. The enemies of Jesus are not vanquished—they’re forgiven and converted into citizens; and you can thank God for that, for you were once His enemy, but now you are His beloved subject. Sins are not marked and recorded for payback in His kingdom. They’re absorbed and paid for by the King Himself on the cross. The servants do not fight for and serve the King. The King serves and fights for His servants, even dying for them, in their place.

            We are all too often dead wrong about this King and His kingdom. It is nothing like the domains of this world. And that can be difficult for us to process. We will need reminders of it. We’ll need to close our eyes and trust in what our King has told us—that He rules in grace, in mercy, in forgiveness. That service does not mean that someone is lower than another. There’s nothing undignified or weak or unworthy about mercy, grace, and self-sacrificing love. That sacrificial love is the pattern set by the King Himself. And all of that runs counter to what we experience every day in the kingdoms of this world. These truths about our King and His realm are held only by faith in His Word and promises. So on this Last Sunday of the Church year, sometimes called Christ the King Sunday, we look forward to finally seeing with our eyes what we’ve always known by faith—that Jesus is Lord over all and that His kingdom will come when He returns to judge the living and the dead. In spite of the world’s boastful claims, in spite of our fallen nature’s grandiose expectations, He is King of kings and Lord of lords. We will see Him in that role someday, when He comes again in glory.

            But if we would look forward to our King coming in glory on the clouds of heaven, we must first look back at our King at His coronation—on the cross. For that is how He reigns. It’s how He always will reign. We may get confused, looking at the examples we see in the world of little kings and rulers. We may get angry when He does not rule as we want Him to. But His kingdom is not of this world. His kingdom extends from eternity and reaches forward into eternity. It encompasses all things, and yet it’s only shared with those who hear His voice, who hear the Truth about this kingdom. Hear it in the living voice of Jesus in Scripture and preaching and the Absolution, where He forgives you. Hear His voice in His own words from the altar, where He tells you about the body and blood you are receiving, where He shares His kingdom and all the fruits of His cross with you: restoration, healing, forgiveness, life, peace, and a renewed faith in His royal decrees. Hear His promise to be with you always, even to the end of the age, when He will return to usher in a new, never-ending age in His kingdom forever. In the name of Jesus, the King of kings. Amen.