November 20, 2016

In most countries kings are part of history but nobody wants them back. The first settlers in America fled to the “New World” because kings persecuted them in their home country. Germans do not have fond memories of Kaiser Wilhelm, a pompous and power seeking monarch who was co-responsible for the First World War. Since their revolution the French are staunch defenders of republic rule. The British are those who still have an emotional attachment to their royal house. Should we then modernise the notion of kingship and call Jesus our President. That hardly makes sense. The readings of today’s liturgy lead us step by step into a totally different vision of what we mean when we call Jesus our king and Lord. The first reading recalls the anointing of David as king over Israel who became the greatest leader of his people. His successors proved a rather poor lot: power-hungry, oppressive men, making deadly political alliances. Most of them were also godless people, not in the least interested in the covenant with Yahweh, the God of Israel. Small wonder that the people of Israel longed for the return of the golden age of David. They dreamt of a Messiah coming from the house of David who would return Israel to its former glory. When they witnessed the extra-ordinary powers of Jesus, healing the sick, raising the dead, feeding a huge crowd of hungry people, the hope dawned that he might be the Messiah and they wanted to make him their king. But Jesus refused any kind of political kingship and went his way. It is also quite possible that Judas was motivated by a similar idea when he decided to betray Jesus. He wanted to put him in a situation where at last he was forced to use his powers and start of political liberation movement. When Jesus refused any form of violence, Judas despaired. Jesus refused to conform to people’s expectations for a new king. What kind of king then did he want to be? We find the answer in two instances of the story of his passion and death. The first moment of revelation of Jesus’ view of kingship is the confrontation with his judge: the military governor of Palestine, Pontius Pilate. He wanted to intimidate Jesus by reminding him that he has power of life and death. Jesus’ answer: You have no power at all over me, because my kingdom is not of this world. We associate kingship with power and authority, with control and domination over others. Jesus’ vision is totally different from what anybody can imagine. In the final revelation of Jesus’ kingship, we see him nailed to a cross like the worst criminal between two other convicted criminals and above his head a sign: Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews, both a cruel mockery and a profound truth. He seems totally powerless, unable even to move. And yet, in him is an incredible power, the power of love, a love so pure, so strong that remains untouched by any hatred, any cruelty, any suffering, an even by death. Jesus is the “King of love on Calvary”, as we sang in the beginning of mass. This transforming power of love and mercy changed the heart of one of the criminals who wants to become part of that kingdom of Jesus, that place where only love rules. He dies in peace in the hope of paradise. The other refuses that offers. Like the leaders of Israel wants Jesus to come down from the cross to prove his power as a political messiah. He dies in despair. Till to today people cheer political or religious Messiah-leaders who promise to bring about a better world by force and violence. Are we ready to accept a king whose only weapon is love?

Fr. Wolfgang Schonecke MAfr

We use cookies on our website. Some of them are essential for the operation of the site, while others help us to improve this site and the user experience (tracking cookies). You can decide for yourself whether you want to allow cookies or not. Please note that if you reject them, you may not be able to use all the functionalities of the site.