Stories of Worship

We have arrived at the end of our liturgical year. This is one of my favorite Sundays in the church calendar. This is one of the rare times in our church year when Christianity’s two high holidays, Easter and Christmas, are held in the same breadth. We are confronted with the reality of the crucified Jesus who is revealed to the God who became an incarnate creature. The one handed over to Pilate in Jerusalem is the same one who was born amidst the lowly and messy chorus of animals. The one hailed by angels, shepherds, and the cosmic display of a star is the same one we find betrayed, mocked, and humiliated. It is a Sunday where the hymns of our heart’s songs “Silent Night” and “Jesus Paid it All” overlap and interweave. This in between space, which we now have become accustomed too, dances together to create a new song entirely.[1] They combine to create a story of worship. 

We need both these songs. We can only understand Christ the King if we have understood Jesus the son of Mary. Each song clarifies the Messiah we have as Christians. They clarify the nature of God and the nature of our worship. Each song needs the other for truth to shine through. The song of the Kingly Christ without the lowly Jesus produces theologies that revolve around power, domination, and hierarchy. The song of the lowly Jesus without the Kingly Christ produces theologies that lose out on the hope available to us at the resurrection, ascension, and return of Jesus. Christ the King Sunday offers an opportunity for us to assess our own values and evaluate how we participate in God’s work here in our valley. If we listen closely to this story of worship, maybe we will hear the song being sung right here in our valley. 

We have here the dramatic interchange between Jesus and Pilate. Jesus is on trial. His fate is in the hands of the Roman Governor of Judaea. Interestingly, we have here a different account of Pilate than we may be used to. He is most known for finding no charge against Jesus, and “washing his hands” of responsibility. Pilate is sometimes interpreted as a reasonable, ambivalent figure that only reluctantly acquiesces to the demands of the crowd. Yet, our narrative in John complicates this picture. In chapter 19, Pilate has Jesus dressed in a purple robe and crown of thorns immediately after this exchange.[2] This was not by chance. Pilate is publicly presenting Jesus in kingly dress as a sarcastic sneer to his claim of kingship. As a cherry-on-top, Pilate inscribes the cross with “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”[3] Pilate was not a passive purveyor of justice. Pilate mocks Jesus and all those who placed any hope to him. These gestures loudly say to his followers, “Look at your King! His fate shall be your fate if you choose to stand against Rome.” In Jesus, Pilate sees an opportunity to humiliate his Jewish subjects. He forces them to crucify not only their alleged king, but also the very idea of Jewish kingship.[4]  Thus Pilate mocks and terrorizes his Judaean subjects, pushing the chief priests to declare, “We have no king but the emperor!”[5]

We return to Jesus’ interrogation. “Are you the King of the Jews?”[6] Here, Jesus responds to a person with the societal weight of Rome behind him. Jesus adeptly sidesteps Pilate’s questioning and declines to take up the mantle of “king.” He refuses to take up the Kingship of Israel and Judaea, but instead describes his kingdom. Jesus says, “My Kingdom is not from this world…”[7] In other words, my ways are not your ways. My Kingdom is not like yours, Pilate. Pilate presses him further, “Ah, so if you have a Kingdom, you must be a king!” Jesus once again rejects this title. No, you have misunderstood me.  I am a witness to the truth. Parenthetically, I am the revelation of God, “No one comes to the father except through me.”[8] And so Pilate concludes this scene in his mocking voice, “What is truth?” Immediately following this scene, the crowd chooses to free Barabbas. Jesus is sent to carry his cross to Golgotha. Christ the King Sunday reveals that the God we worship is the crucified Christ. The Creator God revealed in Christ, the “the King of kings” is sent to the cross. This Jesus declines to take up the mantle of an earthly Kingdom. He refuses to conflate his Kingdom with the kingdoms of this world. This King of kings came not for earthly rule and reign, but to reveal and witness to the everlasting love of God. A love bookended by a life that began in a lowly manger and ended in the humiliation of the cross. This one who lived, died, and rose again, is our God. 

This scene draws in sharp contrast two kinds of worship. The worship of the One God and the idolatry of power, money, and possessions. Jesus has in mind a very different form of power. He rejects the brutish top-down power of a tyrant (the power of Pilate), and affirms the true, bottom-up power of love and grace (the power of God). As we have seen this year, the Kingdom of God is not merely a spiritual reality, nor is it a Kingdom of dominion. What is true power? The power that takes the form not of a supreme monarch but of a humble servant, a witness to the truth. The power that, faced with the world’s cruelty and contempt, takes the form of the cross but does not stop there. We look beyond the cross, to the empty tomb, to find the risen Savior, where we receive the comforting Spirit, and are given a community of witnesses, which is a movement of love and service known as the church. Jesus turns our worship of power on its head. True power and true worship are found through the God revealed in Jesus. Pilates mocking question, “What is truth?” is met with an answer. The answer, John proclaims, and we affirm on this last Sunday of the Christian year, is the one standing right in front of him.  

This week I learned about the story of Jack. Jack was a homeless man in our valley. He was often seen riding his bike and pulling his trailer up and down I-93. By all accounts he was a man who was filled with the love of God. He owned a Bible, worn from daily use and study. He gave what little resources he had to others who were in need. He was known for giving locks to school children whose bikes were untied and vulnerable to theft at school. When he couldn’t make a laundry day, he made sure to call ahead so that another could take his space. He was conscious and he was kind. Jack’s smiles came from the depth of our Creator’s grace. He knew where his true home was and gave his all to bring a slice of heaven here on earth. Jack was experiencing hypothermia from the cold winds of winter and decided to head up to Missoula receive care. On the way he collapsed. Good Samaritans found him on the side of the road and took him to the hospital. He succumbed to his illness and met his Creator face-to-face this week. 

Jesus reveals that Jack’s tragic and shocking death is not his end. In this passage we find that Jesus’ Kingdom is a “kingdom” of servanthood. It is a neighborhood for the least of these, a hospital for the sick, and a place where the proud are revealed to be foolish. It is Paradise. Friends, Jack was one of Christ’s ambassadors. He was one who had little but gave and taught much. He was one who’s life reflected the outpouring of God’s grace freely given. Jack is one who Pilate and the people of our world’s order will never understand. It is a story of worship because we find that our telos, our ends, and our hopes are vastly different from the hopes of people like Pilate. We know there is a place where everyone has a home, where everyone has food, and a world sustained in harmony and tranquility by God. It’s a place where neighbors look after one another, with a vision of common good centered around human wholeness rather than greed. This is a kingdom without a king, it is a community of witnesses rather than an empire. This Kingdom is one sustained by their worship of God rather than the things of this world, and it is where we’re headed. 

Christ the King Sunday points us not to Pilate but to Jack. The songs of Christmas and the end of the Christian year resound with the kind of love unearned and unmerited, but freely given with abandon. It reminds us that God’s, “Grace is sufficient” for us. Christ’s “power is made perfect in weakness,” for whenever we are weak, then we are made strong in Christ.[9] Will we sing the song of the crucified Christ? Will we shine God’s light throughout all the valley as the Star of Bethlehem led the shepherds to Jesus? Will we be the hospital for the sick, will we open up our doors to the children, and will we remember the widows? Yes, as Christians we shall. This is why we have opened our doors to be a warming center, and why we will continue to be a part of our community. As part of our commitment to Jesus we strive to be a people like Jack whose pursuit of human wholeness leads us to continually invest our time in the transformation of lives and the flourishing of our community. Like Jack, we must be a people who love our neighbors with abandon. Like Jack, we must be a people who give because God has given us an abundance. Like Jack, we must be a people who shock and bless the world with kindness, grace, and mercy. Jack sang the beautiful song of this day and it is our turn to join him in singing. 

[1] Elizabeth Myer, “True Power: Salt's Lectionary Commentary for Reign of Christ the King Sunday” (SALT Project, November 15, 2021), https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/christ-the-king-lectionary-commentary.

[2] John 19:1-5. 

[3] John 19:19. 

[4] Myer, “True Power.” 

[5] John 19:15.

[6] John 18:33. 

[7] John 19:36. 

[8] John 14:6. 

[9] 2 Cor. 12:8-10.