Welcome on this last Sunday of the church year. As most of you are aware, the church calendar is not the same as the calendar we use in our normal lives. Rather than beginning with January 1, the church calendar begins with Advent which begins next Sunday. Advent is, of course, when we celebrate the coming of Jesus into the world at Christmas and anticipate his return at the end of time.
After we celebrate Jesus’ birth, the church calendar follows his life--beginning with Epiphany--his baptism, his temptation and the beginning of his teaching ministry. Then we enter the season of Lent when we begin focusing on his death, then his resurrection at Easter. That is followed by the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Then we, the church, seek to live out our lives following the teachings of Christ through the ordinary days of the church year until today, the last Sunday in the church year, when we reach a sort of climax with a celebration of the coming reign of Christ over all the earth. Then, next Sunday, we begin the cycle all over again as we enter once again into Advent. Today, however, we celebrate the reign of Christ over all humankind [sometimes called Christ the King Sunday].
There is a story of a little boy who was in a hospital in England in the days of King George V. George V was king of Great Britain from 1910 until his death in 1936. This was when marriage was used as a political tool among the royal houses of Europe. So George was a grandson of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert and the first cousin of both Tsar Nicholas II of Russia and Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany. And yet George was far less pretentious than many of history’s monarchs.
The patients in this particular hospital where the little boy in our story was being treated were told that the king was going to pay them a visit that day. So everybody put on their best clothes as they were lying in their bed, waiting for the king to come.
This little boy was eager to see the king. All day long there were a number of visitors, because it was visitor’s day. And along about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, a man came in with a number of other men with him. He spoke to some of the boys and girls. He even spoke to this young boy who was waiting so eagerly to see the king. He patted him on the head. He spoke very nicely to the boy and left.
That night, as he was being made ready for bed, the little boy spoke to the nurse. “Nurse,” he complained, “the king didn’t come!”
And she said, “Oh, the king did come. Don’t you remember that nice elderly man that came over to you and patted you on the head? And spoke so sweetly to you?”
And he said, “Yes, I do.”
She said, “Well, that was the king.”
The boy protested, “But nurse, he didn’t have on his crown!” (1)
This is what most disappointed the people who came to see Jesus. He wore no crown. He came as an ordinary man. His parents were ordinary citizens. His hometown was so little respected that there was a common expression, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
He confounded many who came into contact with him. He certainly confounded Pontius Pilate. Go with me back to those dark days just before Easter. Passion Week has begun. Jesus has predicted his death and now it is time for the fulfillment of his prediction. He has been captured and arrested and brought to Pilate to dispose of his case. Pilate decides to interview Jesus personally. Maybe that is because Pilate found something very “fishy” about the Jews having delivered one of their own over to Roman authority which they thoroughly despised.
According to Luke’s account, the religious authorities brought three counts against Jesus: subverting the nation, opposing the payment of taxes to Caesar, and claiming to be “King of the Jews.”
Pilate begins his interrogation by asking Jesus if he is, indeed, King of the Jews. Jesus asks Pilate in return if he had that idea on his own accord or if others had talked to him and influenced his question.
Jesus is asking Pilate if he is concerned that he is some sort of political threat to Rome, that is, a revolutionary. To build a case against Jesus so that the Romans could kill him, the religious leaders had to accuse him, falsely, of being a threat to Roman power.
In answer to Jesus’ question, “Is that your own idea or did others talk to you about me?” Pilate answers sarcastically, “Am I a Jew? Your own people and chief priests handed you over to me. What is it you have done?”
It surely broke Jesus’ heart to have Pilate press the matter that it was his own people, the Jews, who had accused him and brought him to this place. Does anyone here know the pain of betrayal by someone you thought should be loyal to you? Imagine the hurt you feel when the people who are supposed to have your back, ditch you or, even worse, rather than having your back, they are the ones who place a dagger in your back.
This is exactly what Jesus may have been experiencing in that moment. His pain was not simply physical with nails and spears and whips breaking his flesh. It was also the emotional pain of betrayal. In the prologue to his Gospel, John speaks to this sad theme: “He came unto his own, but his own did not receive him” (1:11).
Jesus says to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world . . .” In other words, he is saying that Rome did not have to be fearful of a political insurrection by him or those who follow him. He was neither a zealot nor a guerilla leader. His kingdom was not like that at all. “If it were,” he said, “my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But . . . my kingdom is from another place.”
“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.
Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”
It is then that Pilate asks his cynical question, “What is truth?”
But Pilate was in no hurry to pass judgment on Jesus. In truth, he could find no fault in him. It was Pilate who tried to bargain with the crowd by asking them to choose between Jesus and Barabbas. Finally he quite literally washed his hands of Jesus. But the story has an interesting ending.
When it was clear that the mob would have its way, Pilate had Jesus brought forward and said, “Here is your king,” But they shouted, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!”
“Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked.
“We have no king but Caesar,” the chief priests answered. Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.
But Pilate interjected himself one last time into the narrative. When the time came for Christ’s crucifixion, Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read like this: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.
Pilate was only partially right, of course. Jesus was not simply King of the Jews; neither would he become King of the Christians. Instead there will come a day when Jesus Christ will reign over all the world, King of all kings and Lord of all lords. As the writer of Philippians expressed it: “Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (2:9-11).
Scripture teaches that someday everyone on earth will kneel at the name of Jesus. But what makes Christ worthy of such adoration? Let’s deal with that question for just a few moments.
Christ is worthy of our adoration, first of all, because of his willingness to identify with the human condition. John says it all in the Prologue to his Gospel: “The word became flesh and dwelt among us . . .” What an amazing truth. He became one of us.
The Rev. Lee Hull Moses tells a delightful story about something that happened at his church one Sunday morning. The church family was gathered in the fellowship hall as they often were, drinking coffee and eating breakfast, catching up on news from the week and thinking about heading upstairs to Sunday school classes.
There was a commotion underneath one of the tables. Rev. Moses bent down to look under the table and discovered a red-headed three-year-old playing matchbox cars with one of the highly respected elders of their congregation. This elder had crawled under the table in his church clothes. “They vroomed their cars up and down the floor,” says Moses, “oblivious to the rest of us watching, both of them filled with the delight of playing with the other.”
Rev. Moses says, “Maybe it’s a small thing, playing matchbox cars under the table on a Sunday morning; but when I saw them there, I thought: that’s what church should be--a place where, even for a moment or two, life breaks open and joy abounds.” (2)
That is what church should be--a place of joy. Why? Because Christ was willing, like that church elder, to crawl under the table, as it were, to play matchbox cars with us. Or to put it more theologically, he was willing to come into the world and identify with the human condition. He was willing to sorrow as we sorrow, suffer as we suffer, develop friendships as we develop friendships, even grieve over the loss of a friend to death as we sometimes are forced to grieve. Does God know what we are going through, we sometimes wonder? Yes, He knows, because in Jesus Christ He experienced what it means to be a human being. Christ is worthy of our adoration, first of all, because of his willingness to identify with the human condition.
He is also worthy of our adoration because of his compassion for everyone he met on earth. It makes no difference who they were, or how much or how little they deserved it, he looked at people through very special eyes--the eyes of love and compassion.
There is a story about a member of the British royal family. Many years ago the Prince of Wales visited India. A barrier had been set up to keep back the masses of people who wanted to catch a glimpse of this heir to the British throne.
When he arrived, the prince shook hands with some of the dignitaries who were presented to him. Then, looking over their heads to the crowds beyond, he said, “Take down those barriers.”
The barriers were quickly removed and all of the people, regardless of social rank, had free access to the prince. Sometime later when the prince came to that district again, ten thousand outcasts waited under a banner which celebrated the prince who removed the barriers, calling him, “The Prince of the Outcasts.” (3)
If ever there were a “Prince of the Outcasts,” it was Jesus. From the beginning of his ministry, it was clear that outcasts were a priority with him. For example, in Mark 1, Jesus expressed his compassion for a leper by touching him. Most people would have healed the man first and then touched him. By touching the leper, he himself would be made ceremonially unclean. (4) Jesus paid no attention to such matters as religious protocol. His only concern was people. He loved people.
Do you understand what great good news this is? We say that in Jesus we see the very nature of God. That means that the Creator of everything that is or ever has been loves people like Jesus loved people. Indeed, according to 1 John 4:8, God’s very nature is love. Christ is worthy of our adoration, first of all, because of his willingness to identify with the human condition. Christ is also worthy of our adoration because of his compassion for everyone he met.
Finally he is worthy of our adoration because of his willingness to go to the cross. “See from his head, his hands, his feet,” wrote Isaac Watts, “Sorrow and love flow mingled down! Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?”
On one occasion Christ himself summed it up, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).
A man traveled a great distance for an interview with a distinguished scholar. He was ushered into the man’s study, where he said, “Doctor, I notice that the walls of your study are lined with books from the ceiling to the floor. No doubt you have read them all. I know you have written many yourself. You have traveled extensively, and doubtless you’ve had the privilege of conversing with some of the world’s wisest men. I’ve come a long way to ask you just one question. Tell, me, of all you’ve learned, what is the one thing most worth knowing?”
Putting his hand on his guest’s shoulder, the scholar replied with emotion in his voice, “My dear sir, of all the things I have learned, only two are really worth knowing. The first is, I am a great sinner, and the second is, Jesus Christ is a great Savior!” (5)
He is a great Savior. Why? Because he was first a great lover. Because of his love for you and me he laid down his life on the cross of Calvary.
That is why we celebrate the reign of Christ on this last Sunday of the church year. One day every knee will bow at the name of Jesus. Why? Because he identified with humanity, because of his compassion for everyone he met. And because of his willingness to go to the cross. “Jesus loves me, this I know . . .”
1. Dr. S. Lewis Johnson,
http://www.sljinstitute.net/sermons/new%20testament/pages/gods_elect_servant.html.
2. http://day1.org/2868-young_leaders_series_ii_breaking_open.
3. Rodney L. Cooper, Holman New Testament Commentary (Kindle Edition).
4. Ibid.
5. Ray Pritchard, http://www.keepbelieving.com/sermon/2003-12-14-Can-You-Hear-the-Angels-Singing-Christmas-and-the-Other-World/.