John 18:33-37
Christ the King is the most recent major liturgical observance to appear on the calendar, instituted by Pius XI in his encyclical letter Quas Primas in 1925 in response to rising tides of European nationalism. Again, this year will find a particularly relevant echo of Pius’ intent as rising nationalism (read: authoritarianism) is on the rise not only in the United States but also around the world.
Like several other liturgical feast days, Christ the King is the feast of an idea. The “idea” in question is, of course, that Jesus rules and orders all things. Recent attempts to eliminate the word “King” in reference to Jesus or to mistranslate basileia as “kin-dom” are absurd; Jesus is not one among many members of a committee, nor is he a democratically elected ruler. The Kingdom of God is not a loose confederation of equals in which God’s vote is the same as ours; it is an ordered whole in which God reigns over everything as a sovereign, free agent who has the only real autonomy there is. Efforts to the contrary prove Pius’ point: many powers seek to castrate Jesus’ power, to either make him a moralist who teaches us how to "be better" (the left), or to use him as an authoritarian who only serves some, not all (the right). Both seek power; both must be rejected as the theolgia gloriae.
It is ironic in John’s text that Jesus (the ruler over all things) appears before one who, in reality, only seems to have authority: Pilate. Historians are divided over Pilate’s effectiveness as a governor, but it is clear from the Johannine narrative that Pilate has no time for Jewish messianic expectations. The entire kerfuffle about Jesus' alleged blasphemy is a silly exercise in fairy tales for superstitious people who refuse to conform to the Roman imperial cult. Pilate’s question, “…am I a Jew?” must be heard with a mocking tone: only ridiculous people would ever anticipate a Messiah, either in Jewish expectation or in Christocentric location, both of which are unserious political fiction. Pilate’s question “What is truth?” echoes John’s opening soliloquy heard on Christmas Day, and preachers may point to this connection. Pilate’s question is answered in reverse: the truth about which he inquires is the one standing before him: the Word-Made-Flesh, Jesus himself, the incarnate God.
The pericope is noticeably short, and that is why preachers will need to extract from the text the idea of Christ the King, a theological truth implied in John’s words. This reading is not about building Jesus’ kingdom on earth. Preachers might remind their communities of Luther’s admonition in the Small Catechism: “…God’s kingdom comes on its own; we pray that it may come to us, as well.” Instead, the "idea" is about locating that Kingdom in a person first, and then responding out of faith to see that kingdom where it exists already and is growing in new and unusual places (the theologia crucis). This is not to say that Christian people ought not to resist evil rulers as part of this response to the Kingdom of God. They should, and that is part of the “idea” of Christ the King’s sovereignty over anyone or anything that promises to deliver ultimate security to a waiting world. It is precisely for this reason that Jesus must be "King," and not "Committee member." Indeed, Luther advised that rulers only have authority insofar as they are moral rulers; absent that, no allegiance is owed to them. Even then, with good rulers, there is still but one cosmic ruler of all who provides the ultimate hoped-for reality: Christ.
“'Authority' in this brief vignette seems to move around a lot, unable to take up a permanent place amidst the bobbing and weaving necessary to navigate the delicate political situation at hand."
A common theme in John’s pericope is the idea of “inside and outside.” The Jews refuse to enter “into” the Praetorium, while Pilate goes “outside” of it (and then back once again). “Authority” in this brief vignette seems to move around a lot, unable to take up a permanent place amidst the bobbing and weaving necessary to navigate the delicate political situation at hand. Generally, those “outside” of the Praetorium accuse Jesus, while “inside” of it his identity as the “truth” is confirmed as part of God’s new reign.[1]
Jesus, in contrast to Pilate’s fancy footwork, takes up residence in two places at once: among God’s people (“…and he lived among us, full of grace and truth”) in the incarnation and present in the means of grace, and at the right hand of the Father simultaneously. Ambrose reminds us that Christ “…can change and transform the general laws of nature,”[2] and both loci become the places of his “authority,” authority that Jesus wields for the purposes of redemption. His authority is not unstable or fickle. His authority is always available to be called upon, always freely given, always infused with unlikely power as it washes feet in service. But even then, Jesus' authority is not primarily from doing, it is from his essence as incarnate God.
More practically, Christ the King is an opportunity for preachers to remind anxious congregations that God is in control of the world and that the wheels are not coming off the car. Political situations may change, even dangerously so; these must be resisted in obedience to Christ the King. Political situations may promise all kinds of things, some of them (hopefully!) even good. In these cases, the unlikely place (politics, even?) might be the location of God’s creative activity. Even so, the advice remains the same: trust no one.
Except Christ, who is King.
Notes:
[1] Rosel Baum-Bodenbender, Hoheit in Niedrigkeit. Johanneische Christologie Im Prozess Jesu Vor Pilatus (Joh 18,28 - 19,16a), accessed October 25, 2024, https://www.livre-rare-book.com/book/30345129/R69993., 29-96.
[2] Ambrose of Milan, “De Sacramentis, Catechesis Six” in Worship in the Early Church, Volume 2, ed. Lawrence Johnson (Liturgical Press, 2009), 1129 (64).

THE REV. DR. PATRICK H. SHEBECK is the Senior Pastor at St. Paul-Reformation Lutheran Church in St. Paul, Minnesota. He graduated from St. Olaf College with degrees in Liturgics and History, and received his MDiv. at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago (LSTC), doing additional work at Trinity Seminary, Columbus Ohio, and Cambridge University in England. Pastor Shebeck holds the Doctor of Ministry in Liturgical Theology from the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago where he studied under Ed Foley. Pr. Shebeck is a Fellow of the Collegeville Institute at St. John's University, and also a fellow of the John Templeton Foundation's project on Science and Homiletics; he also serves on the Board of Directors of the ELCA Deaconess Community and the Board of Trustees of the Seminar on Lutheran Liturgy.
Amen