Christ Surrounds

John 18:33–37 NRSV

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

We’re in the interrogation room with Jesus and Pilate. These are the final hours of Jesus’ life, as he is arrested and questioned before being crucified. Things are important, here and now.

Pilate’s question about Jesus’ kingship exposes a reality: Pilate is grasping for something to prosecute Jesus for. The priest’s accusations are weak, at best, so Pilate has to figure out whether there is any other reason to hold Jesus, otherwise he has to release him back into the public.

But if Jesus claims he is the King of the Jews, then Pilate could bring him up on treason or sedition. Pilate is a local strongman and his motivation is to keep his position secure by appeasing the Roman occupiers.

Jesus replies — did you ask this or did someone tell you about me? Meaning — is this really your question or did someone set you up? Do you honestly care? And hey, I didn’t call myself a king, you did. So is that what you think I am? Jesus turns it around on Pilate.

Are you a King?

The thing is, you can get yourself in a lot of trouble when you claim to be king.

Let’s look at this from a few angles.

First, there is the example directly relating to Jesus and Pilate. If Jesus claims to be the Jewish King, then he’s a threat to the authority of Pilate, and therefore Caesar, and therefore the Roman empire. This is sedition.

From another angle, we know that when an individual unilaterally (or with a small, non-majority of followers) claims to be king, there are plenty of other powerful people who will feel challenged and perhaps seek to undermine this supposed-king’s rule before it begins. You can’t just go and start calling yourself a King. Generally, kings are only able to become kings if the people of their nation collectively submit to their rule (either by allegiance or oppression).

Yet another point begs us to question whether or not we want ANY kings. In our modern world, we bristle at the idea of powerful kings. Sure, we like King Charles of Britain, because we all know that he’s not really in charge. But what I want to point out here is that we get pretty uncomfortable with all of these labels of power that feel dated, in the least. King, Lord, Master…we could lump those in with words like supremacy, dictator, ruler, emperor. Those are not comfortable words in our world. We’re a little more comfortable with words like Executive or President, but even those titles denote a level of superiority that many of us struggle with at times. Hey, I’ll even through in titles like Reverend or Doctor. Titles of authority are certainly important in their contexts, but there is also a general sentiment that as God’s people, we should be reluctant to give anyone but Christ this kind of authority.

This was the enduring struggle of the Jewish people through their history. The people wanted a king, but there was no king but God, the King. There is a human propensity to equate divine authority with human kings and this, throughout history, doesn’t tend to end well for the poor, the marginalized, and even the common person.

But Jesus is a King, right?

What do we do with Jesus’ admission that he IS a King, but not of an earthly kingdom. The troublesome language of King is still there. And we, as followers of Jesus, claim to be citizens of this kingdom, members of this body that is God’s people. So what do we do with this?

Today is Christ the King Sunday, if you didn’t pick that up yet. It’s the day in the church calendar where we remember that Christ is seated on the throne of God and God has placed all things under his authority. This is very clear, Christian language. So what do we do with this?

Sometimes we try to reframe it, right. Jesus for President. Jesus is my Leader. Jesus, take the wheel.

I think the questions that help me here are:

What kind of Kingdom and King are we talking about?

Idyllic kingdom

Powerful empire

City of God, Tree of Life

Christ Surrounds…

I have found that there are other ways of understanding Christ’s kingship and authority, ways that feel more attuned to how those terms of power may function now, and also returning us to a more interconnected faith that looks for God in the natural world. The Celtic Christians, of Ireland, Scotland, the UK, and even throughout much of Western Europe, had much more generous and expansive understandings of what it meant for Christ to be King.

The Celtic Christian tradition is much more rooted in our earthly, wild reality. It is a spiritual tradition that sees the interconnectedness of God’s creation and highlights this in how it speaks of divine and holy things.

One of the pieces of the Celtic way that really speaks to me is the idea of God’s expansiveness. God is present and God’s presence is pervasive. Theologians and philosophers would call this God’s omnipresence — everywhere. And for Celtic Christians, we understand God to be present in all things. Not that all things are God, but that all things glimmer with the presence of their Creator. There is nowhere that God’s light cannot reach.

In this tradition, there is a practice of praying a prayer of Circling. An encircling prayer invites Christ to surround us, or better put, reminds us that Christ surrounds us. Enveloping, encircling, expansive.

You’ve probably heard a prayer of this sort:

Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ to my left and to my right.

Christ encircle me.

This is a very simple, but profound way for us to know Christ in our lived reality. And it helps me to think differently about Christ as King.

Pilate’s really asking the wrong kind of question, isn’t he. Pilate is concerned with political boundaries, allegiances, and proper authority. And Jesus’ answer doesn’t make sense in that framework.

Christ is a King of a Kingdom that surrounds us. Christ’s presence overshadows all kingdoms, all political boundaries and alliances. Christ’s presence surrounds all things, as the Apostle Paul taught to the Greeks, it is this presence in which we live and move and have our being. This is the authority, supremacy of God. We are like fish swimming in the ocean of God’s loving presence.

Perhaps maybe another simple way is to remember that old Sunday school song, “He’s got the whole world, in his hands.”

Before we move on, I want to quickly note a really important part of this teaching — Jesus’ answer to Pilate is one passage that Christians use to advocate for pacifism.

Christians can justify that we are to abstain from violence because of Jesus’ words here. Our conflicts are not of political or geographic scale. In a real sense, Jesus is extracting himself, his kingdom, and his people, from these conflicts. They are not the fight we fight.

Now, obviously, there are other passages where Jesus speaks of bringing the sword with his kingdom. But even in this context, Jesus is speaking of a much wider campaign of undoing the power of evil in the world, not muddling in local conflicts. In these matters, the prominent response is to seek peace wherever possible.

Ok.

So what?

As we celebrate Christ the King Sunday, we reach the culmination of the Church Year. This is the pinnacle — where we remember and proclaim that when all is said and done, when all kingdoms and empires have fallen, Christ reigns.

Jesus’ response to Pilate should call us all to question to what kingdom and authority we belong to. How do we answer Pilate’s question about Jesus?

We all know that so many things vie for our time, money, and allegiance. Today, we reaffirm that our primary commitment is to Christ, to God’s surrounding, loving presence, before all things.

This should serve as a reminder to hold loosely all other commitments. You get that, right? We make commitments, agreements, choices all of the time about what is important. I’m talking about everyday things, like choosing to shop at Haggen or Fred Meyer, vote for one candidate or another, eat meat or eat vegetarian. All of these things are choices and, as we should know very well, choices have consequences. I’d say it this way, as well — We become what we align ourselves with. Not so much that we can choose our own adventure and make life exactly what we want to. No, sadly, it’s much more dangerous than that. Where we place our allegiances, the choices we make, the alliances we draw (either consciously or unconsciously), these things all make us who we are.

One of my favorite philosophers, James K. Smith, has a book called “You Are What You Love.”

So what?

I think we stand here on a day like today and have to reckon with how we would respond to Jesus, like Pilate had to. Using the king language — what kingdom do we belong to? Who is our “Lord”?

But let’s put it into that more generous, Celtic frame, too. What presence surrounds you? Or what do you surround yourself with? Perhaps in a cozy, Pacific Northwest autumnal manner — what blankets your life?

What do we love?

Pilate is making sure he keeps his allegiance to Caesar, Rome, and the powers that be safe and secure. While I don’t know that he’d say he loves Caesar, Pilate clearly recognizes the reciprocal relationship he has with the established authority in Jerusalem and doesn’t want to mess that up.

But as Jesus surrounds, he also confounds. He befuddles Pilate. And he should befuddle us. We are challenged on a day like today to get very clear about who is on the “throne” above and around our lives. Do we open ourselves to the surrounding love of Christ? Or do we surround ourselves with other things? Is it hard to remember Christ’s presence because we’re so distracted with other things?

The Good News here, friends, is that even when we don’t know what we want or how to love different things or make ourselves better at any of this…God goes on ahead of us. Remember that encircling…God is before us. As Christians, we wholly affirm that God directs this world and our lives. God intends for humanity to flourish and find the good life. And God goes before us, preparing our path, even when we don’t always see it or know where we’re going.

I’ll close with this. I find this sense of God “going before” me so comforting and grounding. Especially, I experience this awe and wonder during really hard times. When things aren’t going right, when I’m confounded, when I mess things up, I can remember this — Christ is before me, behind me, to my left and my right, surrounding me, watching over me, us, all creation. This puts my concerns into perspective…none of it is really that big a deal, not when God is with us. It doesn’t always fix everything to put my faith in God that way, but it does bring comfort that we can make it, we belong just as we are, we are loved.

Amen.

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