St. John’s Episcopal Church
Tallahassee, FL
Revelation 1:4b-8 John 18:33-37
Today, on Christ the King Sunday,
we stand at the threshold of time.
If you’re new to the Episcopal Church
you may not know it,
but today is the final Sunday of the church year.
Our new year begins next week
with the first Sunday of Advent,
which means that today is the grand culmination
of our liturgical journey.
But before we turn the page,
today is a day when we pause to declare a singular truth:
that Jesus Christ is King.
* * *
Now the word “king” can conjure up all kinds of images.
Usually,
we think about kingship
as being about crowns,
and control,
and compelling the peasants
to do what you want.
But standing before Pontius Pilate—
a Roman prefect
governing on behalf
of the most powerful empire on earth—
Jesus does not fit the kingly mold.
No crown.
No palace.
No army at his back.
And Pilate looks at him—
this beaten man in a borrowed robe—
and asks him,
“Are you the King of the Jews?”
And he says,
“My kingdom is not from this world.”
My kingdom is not from this world.
Now that’s an answer to sit with.
‘Cause you see, Pilate is looking for power
in the way that Rome understood it . . .
power that
dominates,
and conquers,
and controls.
But this Kingdom that Jesus speaks of?
Well, that Kingdom is something else entirely,
for, you see, the Kingdom that Jesus brings
is built on things like
grace,
and truth,
and love,
not on dominance or fear.
What Pilate had no way of knowing
is that this Jesus—
this King—
is a King of a whole different kind.
If this Jesus is our King,
then ours is a King
who does not hoard power for himself,
but instead pours it out
for the good of all creation.
If Jesus is our King,
then ours is a King
who seeks not to crush his enemies,
but to make his enemies whole.
If Jesus is our King,
then ours is a King
who rules from a wooden cross
and not a throne of gold.
Ours is a King
who wins by losing.
Ours is a King
who washes people’s feet.
Ours is a King
who lays down his life for the world.
Ours is a King
whose crown has thorns.
Y’all, our King is a king like no other,
and his Kingdom is a Kingdom
in which everything we think we know
is turned upside-down.
* * *
But here’s the thing.
It would be all fine and dandy
if we came here together today just to say,
“Yep. Jesus is our King.
Good for you, Jesus.
Look at ‘im go,”
and left it at that.
But there’s more.
Because a King is not a King
without a Kingdom,
and a Kingdom is not a Kingdom
without a people.
And that, my friends, is where we come in.
Our reading from Revelation today
says that Jesus has made us
a Kingdom of priests
to serve our God.
That means that you, my friend,
are a card-carrying citizen
of the upside-down Kingdom of God.
Baptized in the water.
Adopted by the Spirit.
Signed, sealed, delivered baby . . .
you are citizens of the Kingdom of the Most High God,
and that changes everything.
You are a kingdom of priests
to serve our God,
and when Revelation says that,
it’s not just talking about
me,
or Mother Leslie,
or all the other people you know
who wear black shirts and white plastic collars.
It’s talking about you,
and I’ll tell you what it means.
You see, in the old days,
the priest stood as an intermediary
not to separate the people and God,
but to stand between them . . .
to bridge the gap . . .
to bring them together . . .
to sacrifice
and sanctify
and reconcile.
So if our King has made you
a Kingdom of priests
to serve our God,
that means that you, too,
are called to bridge the gap
and bring people together,
and be agents of reconciliation
instead of division.
As a citizen of God’s upside-down Kingdom—
as personal friends of the King—
you have been deputized and set free.
Free to serve rather than compete.
Free to love rather than fear.
Free to hope rather than despair.
When the world tells us to seek security and control,
Jesus calls us to trust in him.
When the world prizes dominance,
Jesus shows us the strength of humility.
When the world says to look out for yourself,
Jesus commands us to love our neighbor.
When others choose control,
we are called to choose trust.
When the world clings to power,
we are called to let go.
When others sow division,
we are called to reconcile.
When the world around us
feels so fractured and broken,
you and I are meant to live
as those who bear witness
that love is stronger than hate,
and grace is more powerful than fear.
Ours is a Kingdom in which
the meek
inherit the earth.
The poor
are made to be blessed.
The hungry
are filled with good things.
The proud
are scattered.
The last
are made first.
The least
are lifted high.
The lost
are found.
The broken
are made whole.
And sinners
become saints.
And that changes everything.
* * *
You want to know
what the grace is for you today?
The grace for you today, my friends,
is that you are a child of the King
and his agent here on earth . . .
and with this Jesus—
with this King—
no matter what the powers of this world
ever try to make you believe,
love is our banner and our battle cry,
love is our decree and our declaration,
and love—always love—
has the final word.
Long live the Kingdom.
Long live love.
And long live the King.
Amen.