Posts Tagged ‘Empire’

Christ the King?

November 22, 2025

The Reign of Christ -2025

Luke 21:33-43

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

I have to admit that I approach the Feast of Christ the King with mixed feelings. In fact, you will notice the contradiction between this sermon and my choice of hymns! I am not immune to the sense of jubilation, of victory even, as we celebrate Christ’s exaltation in glory to the right hand of God. The Feast of Christ the King is a fitting end to the Church year, the culmination of the Jesus’ story, a reminder of Christ’s triumph over the forces of evil and a recognition of his power and authority as king and judge.

 It was in part to reassert the authority of Jesus (in contrast to that of worldly powers) that Pope Leo XI introduced this Feast Day in 1925 – the last of the Feast Days to be added to the church calendar.  The then Pope was concerned about the increased secularism and nationalism that followed the First World War. His solution was to remind Catholic Christians of Jesus’ authority over all creation. He also wanted to drive home the point that while earthly governments come and go, Christ the King rules forever – one power to rule all powers.

 My ambivalence concerning this feast is the danger of it being taken to represent triumphalism and authoritarianism both of which are hinted at in another name for today’s Feast – The Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. Indeed, the encyclical which announced the Feast states that: One person of the Trinity unites himself to human nature and reigns over all creation as the Incarnate Son of God. “From this it follows not only that Christ is to be adored by angels and men, but that to him as man angels and men are subject, and must recognise his empire; by reason of the hypostatic union Christ has power over all creatures” (Quas primas, 13).

Such language causes me considerable disquiet. Empire, rule, and subjection are the language of colonialism, not of the kingdom of God that was revealed in the gospels. In fact, the language of the gospels (and the Pauline correspondence) subverts rather than adopts the language of Empire.

 As I came to today’s sermon I realised that the idea of Jesus’ kingship barely rates a mention in the gospels. There are only two occasions on which Jesus is named as King by his own people (or by the gospel writers).  The first occurs in Matthew’s account of the visit of the magi and in Luke’s gospel, Jesus is greeted as King when he enters Jerusalem. Otherwise, the question of whether or not Jesus is king occurs only in the Passion narrative in which Pilate asks Jesus if he is “the King of the Jews” and when he writes “King of the Jews” on the inscription above Jesus’ cross. Many other titles are used for Jesus, but I won’t go into them here except to mention that God addresses Jesus as “beloved Son” and Jesus most commonly refers to himself as the Son of Man.  So, the idea of Jesus as king or as a ruler of nations (let alone a ruler of his followers) does not come from the gospels except indirectly.

 The kingdom of God or heaven is a more common theme in the gospels and could imply kingship, but even this expression is fraught with difficulty and scholars cannot say exactly what it means. It seems to refer to an ideal situation in which God reigns over all, but whether it refers to a future or present kingdom, an earthly or a heavenly kingdom is unclear. A number of other terms seem to refer to what is essentially the same thing: Paradise and kingdom are used interchangeably in today’s gospel, God is in heaven and it is possible that resurrection and eternal life refer to a place where God is. In any case the meaning of all these terms seem to be fluid and inconsistent and some could refer to an earth which looks like heaven and some seem to refer specifically to heaven.

 So I ask, as did Pilate: Is Jesus the king of the Jews? His contemporaries did not treat Jesus like a king, and Jesus certainly did not behave like a king, nor did he expect to be treated in the way in which a king might expect to be treated. If fact, as I thought about today’s feast, I became unsure as to whether I thought of the earthly or even the heavenly Jesus as king.

 In Jesus’ life and teaching there is no evidence of triumphalism or of authority, no assertion of power or domination, and no attempt to draw attention to himself. In many ways Jesus seems determined to go under the radar – exercising his ministry among those least likely to elevate him, among those least able to give him a sense of power, and among those who are in no position to confer status on him. Jesus did not impose himself on anyone, he made very few demands, refused to enforce laws and, rather than lord it over others, chose to be their servant.

 Jesus’ style of leadership is the antithesis of everything that we associate with kingship.  It is a leadership based on service, self-negation and the encouragement of and the building up of others. It is never about claiming power, but always about empowering others.

 As we celebrate today, let us not lose sight of the tension that is at the heart of the gospel and of the Reign of Christ – that God, creator and ruler of the universe chose to abandon heaven for the humiliation and vulnerability of human existence – not as an all-powerful King, but as an infant, not as the leader of an army, but as a nurturer of the outsider, not as a High Priest but as someone who lived an ordinary life in submission to God. Jesus proclaimed an upside down kingdom, one governed by love not force, one which valued those who had little or nothing to offer and one in which there are no distinctions, no hierarchies and in which those who serve are greater than those who lead. 

 May we like Christ build a kingdom in which all are welcomed, all are valued and in which no one lords it over another.

Which kingdom?

January 25, 2020

Epiphany 3 – 2020

Matthew 4:12-23

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us not only to follow but to serve God and serve others. Amen.

 There are a number of benefits to social media, but equally there are a number of downsides. These include bullying, spreading ‘false news’ and creating narratives that do not necessarily reflect the whole picture. This is illustrated to some extent by the content on some of the local sites. There have been a number of break-ins in the area recently and a couple of other nasty situations. Despite information from the police that suggest that the situation is not much worse than previously and that Clayfield and the surrounding suburbs are a safe place to life and/or work; repeated posts on Facebook seem to be creating an atmosphere of fear, which can lead to withdrawal, self-preservation and in turn a lack of compassion.

 It is possible that this was played out in another story that was posted on the same site. It reads: “This morning I witnessed the saddest situation on Seymour road. A young man was laying face down-still on the ground. As I approached in my car I witnessed a couple step over him and continue on their walk…another woman with a dog walk around him, quickening her pace…another gent crossed the road. No one appeared to care.”

Our gospel reading today continues the theme of light that continues through Epiphany. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah chapter 9. Isaiah is writing in the context of the Assyrian occupation of Israel. He is encouraging the people to maintain their faith in God, reminding them that God will send a king who will defeat the invaders and who will introduce a time of endless peace. Centuries later, Matthew’s audience would have understood that when Isaiah names Zebulun and Naphtali he is referring to the lands promised by God to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the lands that Moses saw and into which Joshua led the people of Israel.

In Jesus’ time the promised dawn must have appeared to be a distant hope. Galilee (Zebulun and Napthali) were once again under the oppressive yoke of a Gentile nation. This time it was the Romans. Occupation by the Romans had had more than a demoralizing effect. Under Caesar’s rule farming land had been usurped and given to others, depriving families of a means of earning an income and dependent on others for work. Exorbitant and crippling taxes resulted in poverty which led to poor diets, poor hygiene and therefore to poor health. Into this situation of despair Jesus came – announcing a very different situation – the kingdom of God – the reign of God that would bring restoration and peace, rather than oppression and devastation.

Jesus has barely appeared on the scene when he insisted that the fishermen, Peter and Andrew, James and John, follow him. These four are to be the first of many – women and men – who will be caught up in in vision of God’s rule and whose lives will be given meaning and purpose where before there was only drudgery and hopeless. It was a radical move, but it may not have been as hard as we think for Peter and Andrew, James and John to drop everything and follow Jesus. Fishing was demanding, exhausting and often unrewarding work. As fishermen they might have had a semblance of independence, but their boats were almost certainly owned by a Roman invader to whom they would have owed a percentage of their catch, more of the catch would have gone to pay taxes for using the roads and for selling the fish. At the end of the day there would have been little left for themselves.

Jesus’ confidence obviously attracted the men and what is more, he has offered them a future, a new role – fishing for people – whatever that might mean. Instead of being caught up in an endless, soul-destroying occupation that brought little to no financial reward, instead of a daily grind that barely sustained their families, the brothers are called to a role in the kingdom that Jesus has come to proclaim. He must have symbolized the hope of a future that, until now, seemed out of reach. He has given the men a purpose, a reason to hope and to dream. They have no hesitation in joining Jesus in announcing the advent of God’s reign.

No sooner has Jesus begun to gather followers than he begins his mission in earnest – not only teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom but curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

The Roman Empire brought destruction poverty and despair. Jesus brought healing and wholeness. The Roman Empire imposed its rule by force. Jesus drew people to him through empathy and concern. The Roman Empire subjugated conquered peoples to its will. Jesus encouraged loyalty through the power of his presence and his word. The Roman Empire quashed opposition through fear. Jesus did not fear competition but encouraged others to join him in his enterprise. The Roman Empire disempowered it subjects. Jesus gave to his followers meaning and purpose.

The Roman Empire was dominated by fear. Jesus modelled a kingdom governed by compassion. The Roman Empire built walls of self-interest, self-preservation and disdain to isolate themselves from the suffering of the conquered, the poor and the disenfranchised. Jesus opened himself to the misery and pain of the outcast, the marginalised and the oppressed.

The Roman Empire is a distant memory, but we who are followers of Jesus continue to exist in two dimensions – the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world. How we respond to threats and how we react to those who are do not fit the norm are a reflection of the kingdom in which we feel most at home. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether we are beginning to pull up the drawbridge to keep ourselves safe or whether Jesus’ love and compassion continues to determine our reaction to others and to the world around us.