A kingdom not from this world (John 18; The Reign of Christ, Pentecost 27B)

I preached this sermon for Project Reconnect, to be used in the resources they distribute for Sunday 24 November 2024, the Festival of the Reign of Christ. For information about Project Reconnect, see the end of this blog.

The church’s year is currently designated as Year B. During the year, on most Sundays we have heard from the Gospel of Mark, along with passages from the narrative of Samuel and Kings, some of the Wisdom Literature, and letters written by Paul and James, and more recently, the letter to the Hebrews. And each Sunday, one of the Psalms is designated also for us to hear, sing, and reflect on. 

The lectionary provides a rich offering throughout the three years that form the full cycle, ensuring that we read passages from all four Gospels and all major sections of scripture. The current year draws to a close this coming Sunday, as happens at the end of each church year, with the Festival of the Reign of Christ. After this Sunday, we enter a new church year, as the season of Advent begins for Year C, when the focus is on Luke, the prophets, and other letters.

The church’s year is organised differently from the calendar year; it revolves around the key events of our faith: the birth of Jesus, which we celebrate each Christmas, the death and resurrection of Jesus, which comes into focus at Easter, the birth of the Church, which we recall at the celebration of Pentecost, and the long season after Pentecost, when we attend to our life as disciples and the mission into which we are called as people of faith.

This Sunday, the day I am referring to as the festival of the Reign of Christ, has been known traditionally as the festival of Christ the King, when we commemorate the reign that Christ exercises over the world. I prefer the term Reign of Christ as at least one step away from the connotations that are associated with that archaic institution of monarchy. 

And that flags one of the questions that I have with this feast day: how do we maintain a contemporary feel about aspects of our faith that seem to be bound to older patterns and customs? It’s a question that relates to many aspects of our life in the church; how do we demonstrate the relevance for today of the ancient faith? It’s a question worth pondering.

A depiction of Jesus Christ Pantocrator (ruler of all)
in the Hagia Sophia church (now Mosque) in Istanbul

The Reign of Christ is a relatively new festival in the calendar of church festivals—it was introduced by Pope Pius XI in 1925, and has since been adopted by Lutheran, Anglican, and various Protestant churches around the world, and also, apparently, by the Western Rite parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia. (Yes, that is a real denomination!) 

So that is a second question that I have relating to this day—along with Trinity Sunday, it sits as a day devoted to “a doctrine” developed later in the church’s life, rather than “a time in the life of Jesus”, which is what Christmas and Easter is, or “a time in the life of the church”, namely, Pentecost. Does it really belong in our pattern of seasonal celebrations?

In Roman Catholic tradition, the day is explained by some words from Cyril of Alexandria, a fifth century Doctor of the Church who served as Patriarch of Alexandria, in Egypt, from 412 to 444. In establishing this festival, Pope Pius XI quoted from the writings of Cyril: “Christ has dominion over all creatures … by essence and by nature … the Word of God, as consubstantial with the Father, has all things in common with him, and therefore has necessarily supreme and absolute dominion over all things created. From this it follows that to Christ angels and men [sic] are subject. Christ is also King by acquired, as well as by natural right, for he is our Redeemer. …’ We are no longer our own property, for Christ has purchased us with a great price; our very bodies are the members of Christ.”

However, the festival of the Reign of Christ has only been celebrated in the Roman Catholic Church since it was introduced by Pope Pius XI in 1925. This was a time when Fascist dictators were rising to power in Europe.  I have read that “the specific impetus for the Pope establishing this universal feast of the Church was the martyrdom of a Catholic priest, Blessed Miguel Pro, during the Mexican revolution”; see Today’s Catholic, 18 Nov 2014, at 

The article continues, “The institution of this feast was, therefore, almost an act of defiance from the Church against all those who at that time were seeking to absolutize their own political ideologies, insisting boldly that no earthly power, no particular political system or military dictatorship is ever absolute. Rather, only God is eternal and only the Kingdom of God is an absolute value, which never fails.”

The scriptures, as a whole, puncture the pomposity of powerful kings, and subversively present Jesus as the one who stands against all that those kings did. This festival provides a unique way of reflecting on the eternal kingship of Jesus. It offers a distinctive way for considering how the kingship bestowed upon David has been understood to last “forever”.

Indeed, if you had listened carefully to the Gospel reading, you would have heard the interaction between Pilate and Jesus, on this very matter. When Jesus is brought before the Roman Governor by the priests who had religious authority in Jerusalem, Governor Pilate asks him a direct question: “So, you are a king?”. I hear the question in this way: “So, Jesus, you think you are a king, do you?” 

Pilate, in this way of understanding his question, seems quite sceptical about such a claim, because the priests have brought their prisoner Jesus to him, indicating that he was “a criminal”, and seeking to have the Roman authority pass a sentence of death upon him. “Are you the King of the Jews?”, Pilate had asked Jesus—to which Jesus replies with his own question, “do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” The prisoner from Galilee knows that the Roman Governor is really just following the line presented to him by the Jerusalem priests.

Pilate’s response to this is to observe that “your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me”, so there must be an issue of some sort here. “What have you done?” is the naive question that Pilate then poses; Jesus answers, “my kingdom is not from this world”. In this response, Jesus seems to be accepting that he is a king—but not a king in the form that the rulers of the nations would recognise. It is no wonder that Pilate seems not to grasp the point. How can this bedraggled Galilean be a king over a kingdom “not from this world”.

So he presses the point. “So you are a king, then?” Jesus will not give a straightforward answer. He will not say, “yes, I am a king”; nor will he deny it, “no, of course I am not a king”. Rather, he diverts the focus, from the political reality of kingship, to the esoteric philosophical concept of “truth”. “For this I came into the world”, Jesus says, “to testify to the truth; everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” 

The implication is that he was not planning to lead a political uprising that would use force try to take over control of the land from the Romans; so Pilate should not have any fears on that account. Rather, says Jesus, “I came into the world to testify to the truth”.

Which draws from Pilate his most famous words, “What is truth?” According to the author of John’s Gospel, this trial scene morphed into a philosophical discussion—a development quite unexpected, and indeed, quite unrealistic. Which means, I think, that the whole scene is filled with irony. 

The first point of irony is when the Jewish priests, whose nation once did boast a king, tell the Roman Governor, “we have no king but the emperor”. The second irony is when the Roman Governor, whose nation had banned kings and despised this autocratic form of government, questions Jesus, “are you the king of the Jews?”. And the third moment of irony comes when Galilean prisoner, dressed with a crown of thorns around his head a purple robe on his shoulders, passes by the opportunity to give a clear answer and instead asserts, “my kingdom is not from this world”. 

From our point of view, as people of faith, many centuries later, we could well consider this ancient account quite strange. From our perspective, informed by centuries when deeper theological understandings have been developed and complex doctrine has been articulated, we may well see Jesus as God’s chosen human being, imbued with divine powers, enthroned as the King over all the earth. 

Why, we sing of him in this way: “Jesus shall reign where’er the sun does his successive journeys run”, “At the name of Jesus every knee shall bow”, “King of kings and Lord of lords”, “Come, Thou Almighty King … come, and reign over us”, “Rejoice, the Lord is King: your Lord and King adore!”, “Glory, glory, glory to the King of kings” … and many more.

So it is deeply embedded in our collective understanding that Jesus is, indeed, King who reigns over all, whose power and dominion covers the whole earth. And yet, in this passage, offered to us for the very festival of The Reign of Christ, the words of scripture invite us to reconsider: the nature of the Reign that Jesus envisages is radically different from the kind of reign that kings—and queens—have demonstrated throughout history. 

He is, as Graham Kendrick’s song so powerfully expresses it, our Servant King, who came as a “helpless babe”, who “entered our world … not to be served but to serve, and give [his] life that we might live”; for “This is our God, The Servant King, [who] calls us now to follow him, to bring our lives as a daily offering of worship to The Servant King”.

On this day, this festive celebration of the Reign of Christ, let us commit to following him not along the pathway of power, authority, prestige … but rather in service, with humility, through compassion, standing firm for justice, holding fast to a righteous way of living. For this is our king, the one who reigns, and this is the path that he calls us to walk.

Project Reconnect is a ministry of The Hunter Presbytery of the Uniting Church in Australia which provides a weekly worship resource for congregations, including a video sermon and a video all-age address, with music resources and discussion starters. See https://projectreconnect.com.au

To watch my sermon, see

24th November 2024 (Year B – Reign of Christ Sunday) “A Kingdom not of this World”