Christ the King of the Universe

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; Psalm 93; Revelation 1:4b-8; John 18:33-37

The image of Christ the King seems like an obvious one.  You see it in art, churches, readings,  Today’s hymns are resplendent with royalty: ‘Christ is the King, Crown him with many crowns, crown him Lord of all’ God as king, Christ as king, is one of those primal Sunday School images. The full name of today’s festival is the Feast of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. Which is quite big. It’s a relative newbie, as Christian festivals, begun in 1925 by pope Pius XI, infamous for signing the controversial Reichskonkordat with Nazi Germany.  On the whole, it was the defensive gesture of a Church that was seeing its earthly kingdom and influence diminishing; and a response to anti-clericalism, which is obviously up there with the most terrible crimes against humanity. But at its worst Christ the King might be thought to encourage a sort of Christian triumphalism. The British Army Chaplaincy department’s motto is from a vision the emperor Constantine had of the cross, with the words spoken: "In this Sign Conquer”.  That should sound a little uncomfortable.

The point the Gospels try to make, on the other hand, especially St John, is that Christ’s kingship is ironic. We’ve talked about irony before. Irony doesn’t mean disappointing or funny.  Irony makes us to rethink what is being ironised, usually by surprising us by describing things a little differently.

So rain on your wedding day isn’t ironic. Nor is testing positive for Covid at your godson’s baptism. Turning up to your wedding wearing a ball and chain attached to your ankle would be ironic. But ill-advised.

The irony of Christ’s kingship is played out through his trial and execution. A miracle worker, who has fed thousands, healed, preached peace with divine authority, and raised the dead,  Falls under the judgement of a puppet Jewish king and a weak ruler who doesn’t even agree with the verdict he announces.

Strangely, the king of the Universe is condemned by corrupt officials. The kingship we know is always touched by sleaze, injustice and self-protection. Divine kingship is humility, love and suffering.

So when Jesus is crucified, the sign above him — which normally describes the crime — says “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”. Supposedly ironic, the real irony is that it’s true, but not in the way its authors understand it. But as a tortured, innocent man it shows the reality and brutality of human kingship. And as self-sacrifice it reveals the humility of divine kingship. A kingship that doesn’t control; But serves.

The criticism of human power is unlikely to make you think twice.  Power and corruption have and continue to walk hand in hand through all history.

The more surprising suggestion comes with the criticism of how we see divine power. We want the God who acts. If God loves then nothing bad will happen. We like to think of some superdad who is good, all knowing, all powerful who protects and will keep us from harm.

But the crucifixion turns that upside down. There’s no magic trick. Anyone who believes that if they go to Church and lead a good life, nothing bad will happen to them needs to take a good look at the crucifixion. As Christians we’re called to imitate Christ. And if God values truth, courage and love over health and happiness then who knows what he’ll ask of you.

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So why irony in the Gospels? Why is the crucifixion portrayed as a parody of human kingship? The answer is contained in this exchange between Pilate and Christ. Christ’s pronounces:  ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’

Pilate responds to this in the next verse: ‘What is truth?’ I think you have to imagine for a moment what it would feel like to be standing before a judge condemned to death and to hear that casual attitude to the truth: ‘What is truth?’ Pilate’s words betray his powerlessness. He is the authority. He has power here. He even wants to do the right thing; But Pilate is controlled by the crowd; unable to follow his instincts or, even, most criminally, the suggestions of his wife! He is weakness dressed up as power.

Again, the irony is that Jesus, bound and condemned, has the power to be himself, express his freedom in taking the path he has chosen. He is power dressed down in weakness. But the point is the truth to which Christ testifies. Pilate’s rhetorical “what is truth?” is the politician’s question. It’s the attitude that puts winning an election before National Health, that puts a national economy before the survival of the planet. Anyone who is more concerned with what is easiest, what will leave me most liked and well thought of, what will most people agree with.

Christ stands for an openness with the world. He embodies honesty and integrity, even under violence. He speaks the truth to power, despite the cost.And this is part of the Christian vocation. So St Paul: ‘We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ’ (Eph 4:14-15).

I find it amazing sometimes. You can hear words spoken thousands of years ago and realise that there is more substance in them than anything on Radio 4 or LBC today: ‘speak the truth in love’. If only more people did that.

So when we hear kingship, as Christians we must think service. When we hear power, we must think love. When we hear people speaking in ways that look after themselves and people like them; We speak the truth in love. Find the strength to be honest.

Christ’s kingship isn’t about the hierarchies of the church. It isn’t about wrestling with power in government, Though it does recognise the weakness of human government; that human kingship is always tainted by preserving its own interests. Christ’s kingship, is a raising up of the lowly, the criminal, the weak, the condemned.  Christ’s kingship asks – who does not currently have a voice? Who is being pushed out of the world. It is honest, it is humble, it serves. It’s a truth worthy of the king of the universe.

And the challenge is for us: In what we aspire to, in what we look up to, in what we seek to imitate, in what we show our children: Is it the Pilates and Herods of this world? Are we seeking small-town power and influence and recognition? Our own little kingdom? Or are we here as one who serves?

In baptism we are making some explicit promises. We are renouncing the kingship of this world. In all its forms. And we are turning to Christ. For these boys we are promising to lead them in the kingship of Christ.

This feast of Christ the King serves to distinguish between the values of the world and the values of the kingdom of heaven. In Gospel terms the choice is stark; uncomfortable. Do we follow Pilate?  Or do we follow Christ. Amen.