King Jesus

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “King Jesus” John 18:33-38a

Who has authority?  When we are very little, our parents are the big authority figures. Even if our first word is “no,” the only “no” that truly matters is the one spoken by our mother or father. As we head into high school, we may find a teacher or coach whom we grant a place of special authority.  That science teacher who tutored us through our Advanced Placement exams or the track coach who brought out our athletic excellence may play an influential role in our development. In adulthood, our workplace often demands our allegiance.  We may put in long hours because we love and are fulfilled by what we do, and if we don’t love it, then we value that paycheck which covers the rent, puts food on the table, and keeps the car on the road. Family can take on ultimate authority for our lives. Devotion to a spouse, taxiing kids to extra-curricular activities, time with extended family, all can control our daily living. How many of us will be gathering with family (or those who are like family) for Thanksgiving this week?

As we age, our doctor is often the one who has an authoritative say. On doctor’s orders, we count our calories, cut out the sugar, avoid the saturated fats, and give up salt or caffeine. I’m from a long line of people with high cholesterol. A doctor once told my Mom that her body could make cholesterol out of spinach. Last year, on my doctor’s advice, I met with a dietician to see if we could tweak my diet to improve my elevated numbers. I used olive oil instead of butter and cut way back on eggs. We ate more fish, more fruit, more fiber. I was feeling pretty impressed with myself until I had new bloodwork done earlier this month. All that hard work reduced my cholesterol by a whopping nine points. Thanks a lot, doc!

In time, we come full circle. One day, we discern that the balance of power and authority has shifted. It falls to our adult children to now tell us the “no” that we don’t want to hear.  We find ourselves moving to a more manageable home, giving up our car, or foregoing the season pass for downhill skiing at Whiteface. 

Those to whom we grant authority shape our lives and influence the course of our daily living.  They have a lot to say about who we are and what our life looks like.  Who has the ultimate authority for our lives this morning?

Our gospel lesson tells of the face-off between Jesus of Nazareth and Pontius Pilate, two men of authority, who allowed very different forces to shape and direct their lives.  For Pontius Pilate, the Emperor Tiberias Augustus had ultimate authority.  Pilate was a career officer in the legions of Rome, a soldier who rose through the ranks, thanks to his political connections and his skill with the javelin. It was rumored that Pilate, married to the illegitimate daughter of Julia—the emperor’s second wife, was a particular favorite of Tiberias. The emperor dispatched Pilate to Judea to quell the chaos left behind when the corrupt King Herod Archelaus was deposed. 

For six years, Pilate had served as the procurator (or client king) of Judea.  He governed, not because he cared about the Israelite people, but because he was duty bound to protect the financial and political interests of his emperor.  Pilate had two key responsibilities as procurator: to ensure that taxes were collected and to keep the peace, the pax Romana, at any price.  Pilate’s chief weapons in achieving his purpose were fear and violence, and he used those weapons liberally. In his first six years as procurator, Pilate had ruthlessly crushed three rebellions. He crucified insurrectionists and slaughtered their followers.

More than any other time of year in this miserable backwater where the emperor had sent him, Pilate dreaded the Passover, which awakened within the Hebrew people the historic longing for liberation from foreign oppression. As Pilate was roused from his bed early on Friday of the Passover Festival, he was told that yet another political dissident was in custody, Jesus of Nazareth, whom the people heralded as King of the Jews.

When Pilate entered the courtyard of the Praetorium to interrogate his prisoner, he expected to find a man not unlike himself, a man with political ambitions who used violence to achieve power and authority over the people. Instead, Pilate found an impoverished, homeless rabbi, who sought not to build an earthly kingdom but to reveal a heavenly kingdom, where God holds ultimate authority.  The kingdom that Jesus served was unlike any that the procurator had ever imagined. It was not forged by fear and violence, rather it was revealed in love and justice.

Because God had ultimate authority in Jesus’ life, he had left his hometown, his kin, and his profession as a carpenter.  From Galilee to Jerusalem, Jesus poured out his life in love and justice. Jesus reached out with holy healing power that cleansed lepers, restored blind eyes, opened deaf ears, fed the hungry, and even raised the dead. He taught about God’s great love for all kinds of people, even those whom society labeled outcasts and sinners. If Pilate would give him half a chance, Jesus would even tell Pilate that God loved him and longed to put Pilate to work in another kingdom. But within hours, Jesus would be wearing a crown of thorns. Within hours, he would be enthroned upon a cross, beneath the title “King of the Jews.”

As Pilate confronted Jesus, two kingdoms stood in tension, two very different ways of exercising power and authority.  In Pilate’s kingdom, peace was secured with the sword and kept with the brutality of crucifixion.  In Christ’s kingdom, peace was proclaimed by meeting people in their places of greatest need with caring, compassion, and love.  In Pilate’s kingdom, soldiers were dispatched to inspire fear and maintain order. In Jesus’ kingdom, disciples were sent out to heal, teach, and transform the social order. In Pilate’s kingdom, oppressive taxes stole from the poor to line the pockets of the rich. In Jesus’ kingdom, the rich shared from their abundance to meet the needs of the poor. In Pilate’s kingdom, the emperor declared himself a God and demanded the tribute and sacrifice of the people. In Jesus’ kingdom, God chose to become a man who would sacrifice his very life to redeem the people. Pilate’s kingdom would rise and fall, but Jesus’ Kingdom would reign forever.

Christ the King Sunday was first commemorated in 1925 to assert the authority of God in a world that was increasingly secular. The fires of rabid nationalism were being stoked in Europe. That year, Benito Mussolini dismantled Italy’s democratic institutions and assumed his role as dictator, adopting the title Il Duce (“The Leader”). In Germany, Adolf Hitler, newly released from prison for his role in an attempted coup, had just published the first volume of Mein Kampf. That same year, he founded the SS—the violent political soldiers of the Nazi party—and he was maneuvering to assume leadership which would propel him into the role of German chancellor. In America, it was all about the money, money, money. The roaring twenties were in full swing. Prohibition filled Saranac Lake with speakeasies and bootleggers. The stock market had begun a period of explosive growth; its value would soar from $27 billion in 1925 to $87 billion in 1929, before the crash of the Great Depression. Whom would the world serve? Dictators, mad men pedaling hate, the unchecked forces of capitalism, or King Jesus? The world needed at least one Sunday to ponder who and what should have ultimate authority.

On Christ the King Sunday, we are asked to affirm whom we will ultimately serve—Jesus or the powers and principalities of this world.  Whom will we allow to hold authority for our daily living?  The way of the empire can bring personal rewards—power, wealth, and worldly prestige. Who doesn’t want that?  And yet, the price of our triumph is the oppression of the world around us, the exploitation of neighbors and nature, and the wounding of our world with violence and death. Just ask Pontius Pilate. 

Christ our King challenges us to choose another way, another kingdom. In Christ’s Kingdom, God has ultimate authority, and the driving ethic is one of love and justice. We serve that holy kingdom by choosing to live as Jesus did, reaching out to heal and to feed, to welcome and forgive. The reward for our service is peace, healing, and redemption, not only for ourselves but also for those around us—for family, friends, community, and ultimately our world. Who doesn’t want that? 

Those to whom we grant authority shape our lives and influence the course of our daily living.  They have a lot to say about who we are and what our life looks like. Above all earthly powers, the crucified and risen Lord alone claims our adoration and allegiance. May we go forth to follow King Jesus.

Resources

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on John 18:33-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 22, 2009. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-2/commentary-on-john-1833-37-6

Jaime Clark-Soles. “Commentary on John 18:33-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 25, 2012. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-2/commentary-on-john-1833-37

Susan Hylen. “Commentary on John 18:33-37” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 25, 2012. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/christ-the-king-2/commentary-on-john-1833-37-3

PCUSA. “Christ the King/Reign of Christ” in Book of Common Worship. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2018.


John 18:33-38a

33 Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” 34 Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” 35 Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” 36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom belonged to this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” 37 Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “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.” 38 Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”


Real Authority

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Real Authority” Mark 1:21-28

“Let’s get out of here! Floor it!” My friend Amy yelled in my ear. She had a death grip on my arm that would leave finger-shaped bruises.

I sat there frozen while Dr. Spahr tapped on my driver’s side window.

Dr. Spahr was the ultimate authority at CB West. At a time when dress codes were changing and administrators wore khakis, button down shirts, and blue blazers, Principal Spahr always wore a suit, black or charcoal. His somber neckties popped against starched white shirts. His thick, black-framed glasses might be considered hipster nowadays, but back then, they were seriously old school and uncool. He rarely smiled. He prowled the hallways with a ninja-like stealth that would catch you unaware. A trip to Dr. Spahr’s office could result in detention, suspension, or worse.

You did not want to run into Dr. Spahr when you were up to mischief, especially when you were on school property on a weekend night like we were. There was a collective gasp of anguish from my friends when I rolled down the car window. We were doomed.

Our reading from Mark’s gospel establishes Jesus as the new authority in Capernaum. Jesus was reading and interpreting scripture as a guest teacher at the synagogue on the sabbath day. The excellence of his words impressed everyone. Then, when an unclean spirit spoke out in the midst of the congregation, Jesus silenced it and demonstrated even more authority, driving the demon out of the afflicted man and setting him free. It was a synagogue assembly that no one would forget – great preaching and a miraculous healing, all thanks to Jesus who demonstrated a new and unprecedented authority.

The amazement of the people of Capernaum seems a little naïve to us. After all, we’ve been reading Mark’s gospel. We know that at Jesus’s baptism God spoke from the heavens saying, “This is my Son the Beloved.” And when Jesus was walking along the lakeshore, all he had to do was invite those fishermen to join him and they left everything behind. We expect great things from Jesus when he enters the synagogue. But those people in Capernaum? Not so much.

Those low expectations may have stemmed from the fact that there were plenty of “authorities” in Jesus’ day, but Jesus wasn’t one of them. There was a Roman garrison at Capernaum, and the centurion in charge controlled his men and the village. He wielded authority that came from the empire, with foreign occupation and the threat of violence.

Regional power was held by Herod Antipas, the Roman-appointed tetrarch of Galilee and Perea. Herod held authority to rule and collect taxes to support his kingdom and his emperor, oppressing and imprisoning those who might ask questions or resist his demands.

When it came to matters of religion, all eyes turned to the Temple in Jerusalem.  There, priests held an authority that passed from father to son through the long generations. Standing in the middle between the people and God Almighty, a priest could pronounce you clean or unclean, offer sacrifices to atone for your sins, exclude you from the community of the righteous, or welcome you back home.

And when it came to scripture, authority was best left to the scribes, scholars who spent a lifetime studying the Hebrew Bible and memorizing the long history of biblical interpretation known as the traditions of the elders. The scribe’s authority derived from their eloquence, encyclopedic knowledge, and the prestige of the rabbis with whom they had apprenticed.

Roman commanders, client kings, priests, and scribes, these were the voices of authority for the people who had gathered for worship on that Sabbath morning in Capernaum. Yet one sermon from Jesus and one act of healing had people buzzing. Here was a new authority that made them sit up and notice. Here was an authority unlike any they had seen before.

Perhaps the buzz was about the big difference between how Jesus used his power and how all those first century authorities exercised their power. Jesus didn’t use his authority to exert control or curry political favor. He didn’t use his power to amass a fortune or build an impressive reputation. He didn’t use his authority to elevate himself above others or establish his unparalleled expertise. Instead, that sabbath day in Capernaum revealed that Jesus would use his power for others. He reminded those worshippers of God’s great love for God’s people. He chose to reach out with compassion in response to suffering.  In God’s Kingdom, these are the hallmarks of real authority: to speak in ways that make the love of God known and to act in ways that bring healing and wholeness to others. This is the heart of the ministry that God would empower Jesus to pursue.

This is the sixth time that I have preached on this passage. That’s the blessing and challenge of years of experience. I often like to focus on the choice we face when we read this story, the same choice that those worshippers in Capernaum faced. Will we recognize Jesus’ authority for our lives? Will we build a life around him, placing the Lord at the center of our families and workplaces, our civic commitments and even the choices we make in the voting booth. It isn’t an easy thing to do, because it requires us to make some tough decisions about all those other authorities out there, the ones that would like to run our show. Year in and year out, I see this congregation making the tough choice to put God at the center, establishing the priorities that Jesus hoped his first listeners would make.

This time through the lectionary cycle, I have been thinking beyond our choice to affirm Jesus as Lord to questions about our own authority. Whether we are parents or grandparents, teachers or managers, community leaders or healthcare providers, elders or deacons, we have each been entrusted with authority. We choose daily how we will use the power that is at our disposal. Will we make God’s love known? Will we act with compassion to ease the suffering of others? I think these are the most essential questions in the life of faithful people. The choice for love, the practice of compassion, I think this is the heart of the ministry that God would empower us to pursue.

At the start of this message, I left myself rolling down the car window to face the authority of the totally terrifying Dr. Spahr. What kind of principal hangs out at school on a Saturday evening just to spoil the shenanigans of high school pranksters? He was even wearing his suit! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a can of spray paint roll out from under the passenger seat—a fact that the eagle-eyed Dr. Spahr would be sure to notice.

Dr. Spahr recognized me right away. We went to the same church, and my Mom had taught at the high school for a number of years. Once the window was down, the conversation went something like this.

Dr. Spahr: Why, Joann! What are you doing on school property in the middle of a Saturday night?

Everyone in the car: Nothing!

We were busted. There was no getting around it. I saw a future of detentions ahead of me. If the spray paint was brought into evidence, we were talking suspension. If it became known that although I was in the driver’s seat, I did not have a driver’s license, then who knew what horrors awaited me.

I must have looked pretty pitiful. I was an honors student, but things weren’t great at home, and Dr. Spahr knew it. The acrimony between my parents was showing up in some unfortunate ways in us kids. I wasn’t the only case in point. My brother had been in the dreaded office of Dr. Spahr twice that year, once for fighting and another time for setting off a fire extinguisher in a hallway (which was probably also related to fighting). That really did result in a suspension. My goose was cooked.

Dr. Spahr gave me a long hard look. He peered off into the night through those thick black glasses. He was clearly weighing his options. Finally, he sighed and patted the driver’s side door. “You girls go home,” he said. “I don’t want to hear about any more trouble.” He looked pointedly at what had rolled out from under the seat. We wasted no time, dropping the car into gear and driving off into the dark.

I’ve thought about Dr. Spahr over the years, all that authority at CB West. On at least one Saturday night, he helped a teenager know the love of God and the compassion that Jesus would have us extend to one another.

Resources:

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 29, 2012. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 1, 2015. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Stephen Hultgren. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 1, 2009. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

David S. Jacobsen. “Commentary on Mark 1:21-28” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 28, 2024. Accessed online at Home – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary


Mark 1:21-28

21They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. 22They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 23Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, 24and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” 25But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” 26And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. 27They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” 28At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.