Sermon On Jesus Before Pilate

If Christ Is King
John 18.28-38

Today is the last Sunday in the church year… Christ the King Sunday. Next week the church calendar starts anew as we begin Advent and look toward Christmas.

The scripture readings for today invite us to see Christ as our king, our ruler, our leader, and to look at what practical difference that makes for our lives.

The Gospel reading takes place early in the passion story in John. Christ has been arrested overnight and brought to Pilate’s headquarters in Jerusalem. His enemies want him put to death. They must come to Pilate because only the Romans can execute someone.

The scene takes place early in the morning, after first light. Pilate is a busy man… his day starts at dawn. A prisoner is brought to him. His clothes are stained with dirt and blood. His face is bruised and haggard… he’s not slept all night.

Pilate meets the delegation in the courtyard. There is an awkward pause at first; the only sound is water bubbling in a fountain. Pilate talks to the accusers. Then he brings the accused – Jesus – inside for further questioning. He needs to get to the bottom of things because there are other items on his agenda.

Pilate performs a cognitio… an inquiry. He asks Jesus questions to see if he is any threat to the peace of Rome. “They say you claim to be a king… are you a king? What have you done?”

Jesus answers in odd phrases. “My kingdom is not from here… Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Pilate listens to Jesus’ voice long enough to decide he is no threat. To a practical man like Pilate, Jesus sounds like a sage who wanders the countryside talking to people about the nature of truth. Pilate isn’t interested.

“What is truth?” he says to Jesus with a wave of his hand. But deep down, maybe a piece of him that wonders what truth really is.

It’s hard to imagine Jesus didn’t make an impression on Pilate. In my mind I see Jesus standing there in his royal calmness… at the mercy of these events, yet also strangely the master of these events. His whole manner of being suggests dignity and authority – Pilate can’t help but notice.

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Our church’s midweek program for children meets each Wednesday at 4:30. The students rotate through Bible study, choir and activity times. Everyone eats dinner together at 5:45. Last week it was a full Thanksgiving meal with turkey, potatoes, stuffing, corn and pie.

When the program ends at 7 PM, everyone gathers in fellowship hall for a closing time. We all sit in a circle on the green and white tiles. Nancy leads the children in singing a song; then she lights a candle and asks them if they’ve had any ‘God-sightings’ this week.

The girls and boys respond with ways they’ve seen God at work in their lives lately. “I saw God when I …” Each child fills in the blank differently. Then parents arrive, and everyone dismisses to go home.

Pilate almost had a God-sighting at his work that morning. (If he’d been a child, maybe he would have.) God stood before him, in the form of a Mediterranean peasant named Jesus. But Pilate didn’t have the eyes to see.  Many people then and now don’t have the eyes to see either.

Jesus is a king, the king, but he is reluctant to tell Pilate this directly. Jesus is so unlike any king Pilate has ever seen. He is not a king of force, but a king of love.

Frederick Buechner said, “Love is the most powerful and the most powerless” of things. “Love is the most powerful because it alone can conquer the human heart. Love is the most powerless because it can do nothing except by consent.”

This is the kind of king Jesus was… a king who suffers, forgives and loves. Such a king was invisible to the Roman governor.

I wonder if later in his life Pilate remembered Jesus. Perhaps. But I doubt he’d have considered that one morning a key point of his career as a Roman official.

And he would have been astonished to learn that in 2000 years a billion people mention his name in worship every week: “He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried.”

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I said earlier I’d talk about what practical difference Christ as king has in our lives. I don’t know what difference it means for everyone… I’ll just say what difference it makes for me to say Christ is my king.

First, it reminds me that things are not what they appear. Much of what God does is hidden from us, just as God’s presence in Jesus was hidden from Pilate’s eyes that morning. Reality is not what it seems, and things may be different from what I can perceive with my senses and limited understanding.

Second, seeing Christ as my king calms and encourages my heart. Illness, unemployment, loss – these seem such powerful things in our lives. They breed fear. I don’t diminish or downplay them, but having Christ as king puts these hard things in their proper place.

If Christ is king, then cancer is not the king. If Christ is king, then the economy is not the king. If Christ is king, then death is not the king. Do you see? If Christ is king — if he holds the only power that matters in the end — then I can trust him when other powers threaten me or people I love.

So seeing Christ as king helps me be peaceful, hopeful and even cheerful. Maybe it’s just a mental trick. I like to think of it as an ongoing act of faith.

Years ago at a church camp, I learned a scripture song, John 16.33. I’ll spare you singing it and simply share the words – words of Jesus himself – which have long been an encouragement to me:

“These things I have spoken unto you that in me you might have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But be of good cheer, be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.”

We face tribulations of our own, and they can make us sad or scared. I don’t have to tell you this. But we can be of good cheer because we don’t face these things alone and unprotected. We have a king who loves us, shields us and carries us close to his heart.

This is the difference it can make for us if Christ is king.