The Reign of Christ, November 22, 2015, by the Reverend Matthew Griffin

This Sunday, the Ascension welcomed The Rev'd Matthew Griffin, rector at the Church of the Nativity in Hamilton, as part of a preacher exchange, as Bishop Terry visited the Nativity.

I wonder what Pilate made of it all as he entered the headquarters and summoned Jesus. It’s early in the morning— Had he been pulled from his bed, still rubbing sleep from his eyes and inwardly cursing his subjects from dragging him from comfort? Had he been up early, wondering and worrying about what this festival, the Day of Preparation would bring? He comes out of his headquarters, his home, because the Judeans wouldn’t deign to come in—     unwilling to be made ritually unclean and exiled from the Passover meal— He comes out and speaks to this crowd with their prisoner, bound and beginning to bruise, And says—what accusation do you bring? If he weren’t a criminal, we wouldn’t be bringing him to you. Take him yourselves, and judge him according to your law. We are not permitted to put anyone to death.

If Pilate had still been half-asleep, he must have been awake now. This crowd wants this man dead. This crowd with influential connections including the high priest. This crowd want this man to be Pilate’s problem.

And the truth of the matter is that Pilate is a flunky. A fairly fancy one, part of the lower aristocratic classes. Now the prefect of Judea, he’d have served in the cavalry for a time. As prefect he has three responsibilities: running a small-ish military detachment, some collecting the taxes for the Roman Empire, and some judging. His job is to keep life quiet in Judea, and keep the money flowing to Rome.

It’s not much different, really than what most governments in history have been about. Staying in power, continuing in privilege, discouraging change. That pattern is part of why recognition of rights and equality often seems to move slower than the glaciers: sharing power and privilege with those who haven’t had it can be seen as diminishing those who did.

In a democracy, the right to vote is one key indicator of who the state thinks is really a person.

As just a quick example in Canada, Manitoba starts letting some women vote in 1916; but Quebec holds out until 1940.
    1947 – racial exclusions lifted against Chinese and Indo-Canadians
    1948 – racial exclusions lifted against against Japanese Canadians
    1960 – right to vote extended to First Nations People without giving up status

Slowly, so very slowly, the arc begins to bend toward justice. But generally the mighty want to stay in their seats; the rich don’t want to be sent away empty; and certainly not change just so the hungry can be filled or the humble and meek exalted.

And so Pilate comes into his headquarters, summons Jesus, and asks him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” There’s an odd exchange, as Jesus ducks the question—do you ask this on your own? Or did others tell you about me? Pilate is quick to point out that he’s not a Judean, and that Jesus’ own nation & chief priests have handed Jesus over to Pilate: “what have you done?”

What have you done?

What has he done? Preached good news, Brought healing, Invited people to draw closer to God through himself, Fed multitudes, And raised Lazarus from the dead.

Instead of mentioning any of this, we hear instead “My kingdom is not from this world.” My followers aren’t fighting to protect me. But I’m not that interested in being called a king: I came to testify to the truth.

And the gospel passage we hear this morning ends before Pilate asks him, “What is truth?”

I came to testify to the truth, Jesus says: And throughout John’s gospel, we’ve seen him testify, Not just in some very long speeches and teaching, but we see Jesus bear witness to the truth as time and again he brings healing that doesn’t just make healthy—but restores relationship. Jesus shares living water with the woman of Samaria at the well, and imagines a world where Judean and Samaritan can worship together. Jesus brings a man who’s been left invalid for thirty-eight years back into living instead of waiting. Jesus protects a woman who would be stoned.

Jesus notices the people who aren’t in power talks to them And shows them what it is to be loved and valued.

My kingdom is not of this world. A crown of thorns is not about grasping on to status but shows in humility something more valuable; My kingdom is not of this world; The cross is not about seeking the world’s power but instead shows its weakness. My kingdom is not of this world; Through death, abundant life is everywhere restored.

When we live out the upside-down-ness of the Reign of Christ, we live out the promises we have made to seek Christ in all persons to love our neighbours as ourselves to strive for justice and peace to respect the dignity of every human being we celebrate and make even more real and present God’s promise of the world as it ought to be and we reveal our true citizenship as being not of this world but nevertheless making God’s reign known now.

When we welcome the refugee, we help turn the world upside down.

When we leave aside our desire to cling to old ways of being, and find new ways of sharing in the governance of our Anglican Church with our indigenous brothers and sisters, we join in making God’s reign known.

When we sit with those whom the world ignores, we join in saying that the only kingdom we care about can be found here, with us, as we bring healing and reconciliation and welcome.

May God in Christ richly bless us to be citizens of God’s reign, that when the world asks us what we have done, we may point to how we’ve strived to make Jesus known in our words, our choices, and our very lives.