When Warner Brothers released the latest Superman movie, part of its promotion included a special online Pastor Resource Site on the Man of Steel. Critics complained it was one more blatant Hollywood attempt to use pastors and churches to market a movie, complete with free screenings for pastors, sermon notes, and movie clips. Promotion aside, is it even appropriate to compare Jesus to Superman? Even if we think of him as "the original superhero," doesn't the term itself reduce Jesus from Christ the King to the level of a character in a movie? How can that possibly express the magnificence and mystery of the king of glory, who "is before all things, and in him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:17)?
On the plus side, however, the Man of Steel ministry resources did seem to recognize that Jesus was more than just another Superman. Discussion questions asked, "What was Jesus' mission? How has Jesus demonstrated his love for us?" A study guide included scripture like John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life." It even referred to Mark 10:45 which has also been part of this sermon series: "For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many."
On the one hand, popular culture might compare Jesus to Superman who uses his physical powers to beat back oppression and evil. But on the other, scripture reveals Jesus as a different kind of Superman -- more than a Superman -- who defeats oppression and evil with love, suffering, and sacrifice.
Our scripture for today might seem out of season, for it takes place after Jesus' arrest and before his execution. As part of the Passion narrative that recounts the last week of Jesus' earthly life, it might well be read in the spring, in the week before Easter. But it's also very fitting for this time of year on Christ the King Sunday, because in this text Jesus himself speaks of his kingdom and demonstrates at least in part the kind of king that he was and is today.
Jesus had been arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before. During the commotion, Simon Peter drew his sword and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his right ear. But Jesus rebuked Peter and told him to put away his sword. The gospel of Luke adds the detail that Jesus even healed the man's ear that had been cut off (Luke 22:51). Far from resorting to violence or trying to avoid capture in any way, Jesus clearly intended to follow through with his suffering and death just as he had predicted. He is more Suffering Servant than Superman as he says, "Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?" (John 18:11).
After his arrest, Jesus was questioned by Annas and Caiaphas, two religious leaders who both served as high priests. Then early the next morning, Jesus appeared before Pilate as governor of Judea. Their exchange was brief -- Pilate asked Jesus just three questions before he was ready to dismiss the case. But on the insistence of the people who became more and more unruly, in the next chapter of John's gospel, Pilate eventually gave in and handed Jesus over to be crucified.
But all that is still to come. In the portion of scripture before us today, the attention is focused on the dialogue between Pilate and Jesus. What's more, the key to understanding their exchange and all that follows is found in the words of Jesus: "My kingdom is not from this world."
This is the fundamental difference between Pilate and Jesus. As governor of Judea, Pilate is concerned about his earthly kingdom. His Roman superiors expected him to preserve the public order, to quell any uprisings before they spun out of control. The religious people who wanted Jesus executed threatened to cause trouble. What was Pilate to do? Pressured by the demands from both sides, and fearful for his own position, Pilate chose in his own self-interest to safeguard his place in the kingdom of this world.
In contrast, Jesus did not answer to the Roman authorities or to the religious establishment or to any other human authority. Throughout his ministry of preaching, teaching, and healing, he spoke of the kingdom of God. It was a kingdom from above (John 3:3), a kingdom of the spirit (John 3:5), a kingdom marked by repentance (Matthew 3:2), a kingdom that included blessing for the poor (Matthew 5:3), and a kingdom best described in parables (Mark 4:2ff).
No wonder Pilate and Jesus seemed to talk past one another. Pilate was focused on the kingdom of this world, and Jesus was focused on the kingdom of God. In the five verses of our text, Pilate asked Jesus three questions, and while Jesus responded to him, the answers didn't quite match. It's as if Pilate was talking apples and Jesus was talking oranges.
For example, here is Pilate's first question: "Are you the king of the Jews?" It's a straightforward, simple, yes or no question. But instead of a simple yes or no answer, Jesus replies, "Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?" Both politically astute and self-aware, Jesus directed a question of his own at Pilate. If this were in a court of law today, some lawyer would be objecting; that answer was not responsive to the question.
Pilate was momentarily thrown off balance and found himself retorting, "I am not a Jew, am I?" It was not really a question for Jesus, but a measure of Pilate's surprise that the prisoner might dare speak to him so boldly. But Pilate quickly regained his composure; after all, he was not the one on trial. He asked Jesus his second question: "What have you done?" Again, it's a straightforward question, and Jesus could have given a straightforward answer: I've fed the crowds, I've washed my disciples' feet, I've been praying in the garden. Instead, Jesus said, "My kingdom is not from this world."
Pilate was again thrown off balance and perhaps more than a little exasperated at Jesus' refusal to answer him directly. "So you are a king?" Again, it was a yes or no question that demanded a yes or no answer. But again, Jesus refused to answer in just that way. Instead, he turned the question around and said to Pilate, "You say that I am."
You see how Pilate and Jesus seem to talk past one another. Pilate was asking questions of fact -- who are you, what have you done? And Jesus in turn questioned Pilate -- are these your questions, or did someone else put you up to it? Pilate was trying to get Jesus to answer: Do you claim to be a king? And Jesus refused to answer yes or no. Instead he used Pilate's own words against him: "You say that I am."
Jesus' words proved to be prophetic, for when Jesus was crucified, Pilate had an inscription mounted on the cross, "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews" (John 19:19). In the end, Pilate testified to Jesus' identity as king in spite of the objections of the religious leaders.
But at this point, Pilate and Jesus still seem to be talking past each other. Pilate's interrogation of Jesus was one long communication gap.
I wonder if that's our experience as well.
Like Pilate, are we sometimes caught up in asking the wrong questions? Janis Joplin once complained in a song that all her friends drove Porsches, so couldn't God please give her a Mercedes Benz? Ironically, she herself drove a Porsche, and coming out of the hippie era of the 1960s, she knew that happiness was not found in material possessions. We too know that the question in her song wasn't meant to be taken seriously. But perhaps some of our own prayers are just as misguided without our realizing it.
Like Pilate, are we focused on the wrong kingdom? Pilate was concerned for his position in the Roman empire, and the kinds of questions he asked reflected that. In the end, he decided to condemn Jesus to death for political reasons, not because of any wrongdoing on Jesus' part. Earlier in this sermon series, the rich young man was focused on his many possessions. James and John and the other disciples were focused on their own vision of success. Like Pilate, they were all focused on the wrong kingdom.
In contrast, at the beginning of his public ministry, Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.
(Luke 4:18-19)
The words of the prophet describe God's kingdom and show the kind of king that Jesus came to be. Not a Superman king, but a Spirit-filled king. Not a success-seeking king, but a servant king. Not a power-hungry king, but a king who would use his power to bring good news and healing and freedom.
For the most part, Jesus' disciples didn't get it -- at least not until after his death, resurrection, and ascension. But once they understood -- once they too received the power of the Holy Spirit -- they were transformed, and they went on to change the world!
When we catch a glimpse of that kingdom, and when we see Jesus as that kind of king, everything is changed for us too. Instead of asking for that Mercedes Benz or for wealth or success or whatever else we might think we need, our questions can become kingdom questions. Instead of trying to maintain our positions of power and privilege as Pilate tried to maintain his, we can seek after God's kingdom.
How is God at work today to bring good news to the poor? Where is God at work releasing those bound by sin and oppression? Where is God bringing healing and hope to the world? How can we join in and celebrate what God is doing? How is God at work among us and through us and in us? These are kingdom questions, and we are invited to join God's kingdom and to respond in kingdom ways.
We don't have to be superheroes to do that. We are servants following a servant-king. Jesus' life, death, and resurrection have already accomplished all that we need. Christ the King is with us and goes before us. His Spirit is upon us.
Dear Jesus, we strain to hear your voice, to hear your truth about God's kingdom. It's a kingdom not from here, yet you invite us to enter here and now. It's a kingdom that confuses and confounds us, yet it holds such rich promise and blessing. Grant us clarity and boldness as we seek your kingdom. We acknowledge and proclaim you Christ the King. Amen.