YEAR B 2024 christ the king

Christ the King, 2024
Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14
Psalm 93
Revelation 1:4b-8
John 18:33-37

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

What we see in today’s gospel reading is a confrontation between power and truth.  And when power and truth collide, we want to choose carefully which side of that divide we land on.  There is power.  And there is truth.  And they are not necessarily the same thing.

The court chaplain of Louis XIV—the Sun King of France—was Jean-Baptiste Massillon, after whom our city of Massillon is named.  Louis the Great instructed Massillon that upon his death, the King was to lie in state in a golden coffin at Notre Dame cathedral in Paris.  As the writer Dave Dishman describes it:

At his funeral service the entire cathedral was to be completely dark, lit dimly by only a single candle positioned above the coffin. Louis the Great wanted to be held in awe by all in attendance and the candle was to remind them of his singular greatness.

When Louis the Great died in 1715, Massillon did exactly as the King had instructed. At the funeral thousands waited in silence as they peered at the elegant casket that held the mortal remains of their monarch, illuminated by the single flickering candle.

Massillon rose to eulogize the king. But before he spoke, Massillon reached out and snuffed out the candle representing the late king’s greatness. Then in the darkness of Notre Dame he proclaimed to all, "Only God is Great.”  

More than 200 years later, in 1925, Pope Pius XI decreed that the last Sunday before Advent would be called Christ the King Sunday.  Fans of history will note that 1925 is the same year that Benito Mussolini officially became the fascist dictator of Italy and was then called il Duce—or, The Leader—by the Italian people.  Against that backdrop, by initiating Christ the King Sunday, Pope Pius XI was putting a stake in the ground for Christians: earthly rulers are not supreme, Jesus Christ is.  Or, in the words of Jean-Baptiste Massillon 200 years earlier, only God is great.

So here we are: Christ the King Sunday.  And today we see our Lord Jesus called into the headquarters of Pontius Pilate and being questioned about his kingship.  On Christ the King Sunday, we would expect to get an example of Jesus’ authority, and his power, and his rule over all creation.  Instead, we get a portion of John’s gospel that is usually read on Good Friday.  That doesn’t sound like Jesus is doing a good job of being Christ the King.  So what gives?

Well, it’s because we have a distorted view of what authority and ruling looks like.  This confrontation with Pilate is one of power versus truth.  And it’s a reminder that power is not what we think it is, or where we think it is.

For me, this encounter with Pilate brought to mind the Oval Office meeting last week.  In American tradition, the outgoing President invites the incoming President-elect to the White House.  (Usually.)  And the point of that meeting is to show that power does not belong to one person in America.  In our country, power belongs to the people.  And presidents are only there because we sent them there.  And that is why outgoing presidents also attend the inauguration of their successor.  (Usually.)  Because it is not about them.  It’s about us: we the people, not you the president.

Similarly, earlier this month, we watched the investiture of the new Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church.  And there again, the outgoing Presiding Bishop was present as the new Presiding Bishop was installed, because the power belongs to the people, not the Presiding Bishop.  Our Presiding Bishop is not a Pope.  All those bishops only wear pointy hats because we elect them to lead us, and then they elect one of their own to be Presiding Bishop to lead their meetings.  But it all starts with the people.  Sean Rowe is called “The Most Reverend,” but he not our Pope.

Contrasted with all of that, the Roman Empire of Jesus’ day was not a democracy.  It was an autocracy, or even a dictatorship.  One Emperor ruled over all the people.  One person was right.  Caesar Tiberius was always right, even when he was wrong.  Pontius Pilate and every other underling would be constantly looking over their shoulder.  The Emperor might have you beheaded, or might make his horse a senator: his choice.  In the Roman Empire, power did not belong to the people.  OR to Pilate.  If the Emperor said jump 3 feet high and scratch your head, that’s what people did.  If Caesar declared some people good and others vermin, then that’s what people were, and that would tell you how to treat them.

So Pilate is essentially a bureaucrat who is constantly looking over his shoulder.  There is no real power for anyone other than The Leader in an autocracy.  Pontius Pilate has the same power as a government leader in today’s Russia.  And if he crosses The Leader, well you better stay away from any open windows Pontius.

So into Pilate’s headquarters steps the prisoner named Jesus.  Pilate wants to have a confrontation about power and kingship and authority.  Jesus wants to have a conversation about truth.  The power-hungry but powerless Pilate wants to know if Jesus also seeks power.  He asks him, “So you are a king?”  And Jesus responds, “You say that I am a king.”  You say it.  Under Pilate’s rules, in the world in which Pilate lives, Jesus is a wanna-be king.  But Jesus does not claim to be a king.  In fact, in the 6th chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus escapes into the mountains because he knew that the people wanted to make him a king by force.  Everybody wants Jesus to be a king.  Everybody except Jesus.

We cannot help but think of making powerful people into our rulers.  Or, making our rulers into powerful people.  When Massillon extinguished that candle at Louis XIV’s funeral, the people were shocked!  How dare he do that?  How dare he say that “only God is great” at the funeral of Louis the Great, the Sun King himself?

And yes, Pope Pius XI initiated Christ the King Sunday, but then he spent the next decade cooperating with Mussolini for financial gain for the clergy, along with the fascists’ promising that the catholic faith would be taught to all children enrolled in public schools.  Only after the fascists began earnestly persecuting Jews did Pope Pius finally retreat from his compromise.  And then . . . it was too late.  Earthly power is a dangerous thing, because human beings are a fickle people.  Always in danger of giving in to those we put in power.  Always in danger of making compromises when we should be taking stands.

But that is not what Jesus seeks.  The one who ran off into the woods to avoid becoming a king does not seek earthly power.  In the confrontation in today’s gospel, Pilate wants Jesus to define himself as a king.  Because Pilate understands kings, just as Pope Pius understood dictators.  Pilate wants to talk power; Jesus wants to talk truth.  Jesus says, “I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  And though it wasn’t part of today’s reading, in the next verse we get Pilate’s response, “What is truth?”  As Francis Bacon wrote, “'What is truth?’ asked jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer.”  Pilate asks for a definition of truth, but he does not want to know the answer.

So here we are celebrating Christ the King Sunday.  And we run the risk of making Jesus into the earthly king he never wanted to be.  Because Jesus never sought earthly power.  In fact, he spent his entire life rejecting earthly power, surrendering rather than ruling.  Born in a stable rather than a palace.  Living as a guest with others, instead of in a mansion.  Choosing to eat with the weak and the outcasts, and not with the rich and the powerful.

And that is the good news for you and me.  Because Jesus does not look for those in control.  He does not seek out those in power who have everything together.  The Jesus we worship on Christ the King Sunday comes to eat with sinners.  With those who have lost hope.  With those who seek after truth, rather than power.  Jesus said, “I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  The Holy Spirit has called us to the truth, and so we belong to the truth.  And we listen to his voice.  Because only God is Great.

Amen