‘No kings. Yes, King!'
2 Sm 5:1-3; Ps 122:1-2, 3-4, 4-5; Col 1:12-20; Lk 23:35-43
“No kings!” That has been a cry in the American republic from earliest days … except when it wasn’t. Near the end of the Revolutionary War, it was suggested to George Washington that he parlay his immense popularity to declare himself monarch and take full control of the army and thus take effective control of the fledgling country.
Fortunately, Washington saw the seductive lure of absolute power and the nearly inevitable abuses that can accompany such authority. He refused the suggestion and insisted instead on returning to life as a private citizen — both when he retired his commission in the army and when, after having served two terms as president, he retired from that office as well.
Perhaps Washington was influenced by Israel’s own experience with monarchic rule. After having been governed by “judges” (think tribal leaders) for many years, the Israelites looked with envy at the kingdoms surrounding them. They demanded that God grant them a king of their own (1 Sm 8:5).
When the Lord heard this, he was greatly displeased and warned the Israelites that a king would eventually abuse his power and treat them like slaves to do his bidding. More importantly, God saw their demand for a king as expressing their lack of trust in him and his ability (or willingness) to protect and guide them effectively.
Nevertheless, God granted their wish and Israel was ruled for centuries by a series of flawed kings, ultimately resulting in Babylon’s destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of her inhabitants.
By the time of Jesus’ coming, Israel was still anxiously hoping for a king, cast in a mold according to their own expectations: a powerful ruler who would overthrow the Romans and restore what they perceived to have been the glory of the old kingdom. We see this reflected in Herod’s paranoid fear that the new “king of the Jews” (Mt 2:2) had come to threaten his power and authority.
Throughout Jesus’ life, the disciples struggled to understand his mission, as when Peter rebuked him for stating that the Messiah would be rejected and killed (Mk 8:32). And in today’s Gospel, Jesus is mocked on the cross because the supposed “king” is unable to save himself from death.
So why does our church not select one of Jesus’ “greatest” moments (e.g., the Transfiguration) for this feast day, instead of showing us his broken body on a cross? Because by doing so, we rightly honor God’s own disapprobation of an earthly king for his people.
In his radical vulnerability on the cross, Jesus does not command an army, but he chooses to be totally receptive of his Father’s love — utterly dependent on the Father to a degree that the Israelites never approached during all their years as an earthly kingdom.
There can be only one king — the eternal Son of the Father who reveals his monarchy precisely by surrendering all opportunities for earthly domination, thus living total obedience to his Father, and receiving his authority from the Father alone. This total receptivity continues after Jesus’ death and resurrection, which is the basis of the kingship that we celebrate today.
The King who receives love from the Father can bestow it upon us, especially through prayer and the sacraments.
How should Christians actually live in Christ’s kingdom, instead of only praying or singing about it? First ask: “Where in my life do I have the opportunity to exercise authority?” This can happen in any relationship: within our family, our workplace, our neighborhood, etc.
Next ask: “Am I exercising authority in such a way that both I and the other person(s) are becoming more receptive to receiving God’s love?” For example, a heart that wields authority out of a sense of vainglory or spiteful revenge is not in a state that is open to authentically receiving the love of another, much less the love of God. Such a heart is closed in on itself, not transparently vulnerable and open toward the other and receiving from them, but rather hiding behind a mask of defensiveness and fear (like Herod).
If you want Christ to be your monarch, then make every choice of exercising authority a choice for authentic love. “No kings. Yes, King!”