No King But Caesar!
John 18:33-19:22
Before I begin to read from the Gospel of John and preach, I think it is appropriate to acknowledge that three days ago, leaders of the free world came together in France in solemn remembrance of the 80th anniversary of the landings on Normandy by Allied troops. The ultimate objective of these landings was to root out and eradicate the Nazi empire that had Europe in its grip. Did you have relatives who fought to liberate Europe. What about those who fought to liberate Asia? Let us pause for a moment to remember and to give honor.
The absolute dictator of Nazi German was Adolf Hitler. He ruled his empire like a Roman Caesar. He stands out as an example of someone ruthlessly making one race, the Aryan race, superior to the rest of humanity. History has shown him to be a horrific example of a long line of Caesars who use power to crush liberty.
Let’s talk about the characteristics of the Caesars of the world. The Caesars of this world do not want everyone to have a full life. Some must die so others can have more than their share. Some must serve so that others can strut. Caesars need religious leaders who egg them on and make their power look legitimate. Caesars are so in the grip of their own glory that their empire can be broken only by the triumph of the power of liberty that says No! to Caesars’ power of domination. The road to the triumph of the No! of liberty over Hitler’s power began on the beaches of Normandy.
The text for this sermon comes from the Gospel of John. The story describes how the power of the No! in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, confronts the Roman Caesar, represented by Pontius Pilate.
When Pilate asks Jesus if he is a king, what does he reply? “My kingdom is not of this world, otherwise my servants would be fighting in my name.” “So, you are a king,” says Pilate. He orders his soldiers to torture Jesus so that Pilate can bring him out in mockery and show him to the crowd. “Behold, here is your pathetic king.” “No, no,” say the religious leaders. “He is not our king. We have no king but Caesar.”
But that does not stop Pilate from crucifying Jesus and posting a sign on his cross that says, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” It was meant for everyone who saw Jesus to understand, with versions in Hebrew, Greek and Latin. What was on Pilate’s mind to do this? Did he mean it to be the final insult, the ultimate mockery of this ridiculous man who called himself king? Did Pilate intend it to be a cruel slam-down of the Jews in this stinking corner of the Roman Empire? This pathetic man is the best you can do for a king.
Whatever was in his mind, the chief priests of the Jewish church saw what Pilate was doing straightaway. They insisted that the sign be taken down and replaced. The chief priests demanded that it should proclaim: This man [meaning Jesus] said: I am King of the Jews. What is the difference? It was a warning to Jesus’ followers. It was meant to intimidate. Don’t believe him. We don’t call him our king. We have no king but Caesar.
Think about it! These leaders who had sung for ages every sabbath, “The Lord is King!” abandoned that King and placed their religious leadership into the service of the earthly king, Caesar. That is why Jesus spoke those awful words about them, “[They] have committed the greater sin.” Imagine having to answer for that!
Pilate refused their demand. Pilate’s sign is the last word, the final word, that Caesar’s kingdom can say. But praise God! the resurrection proves that it is not the last possible word God wants us to hear. In the stillness of the empty tomb do you hear the sound of God’s No! to the power of the empire? The worst Caesar can do is no match for God.
When the resurrected Jesus materializes in a room full of traumatized disciples, he shows them his fresh scars. The nail prints in his hands and feet. The slash in his side from the spear. Why does he do that? To prove God’s triumph of liberty over the power that dominates. To prove that God has made someone who has triumphed over the very worst that any Caesar can do. The glorious Son of God has the power to break the grip of death. Power to turn every empire upside down. Power that cannot be controlled by any kingdom on earth.
But remember, remember. Don’t let it all go to your head. This powerful Son of God cannot erase the scars of the crucified, humiliated King of the Jews. His marks of humiliation are not things that he can air-brush off his body. A true picture of Jesus has to show him as both scarred and powerful. Yes, he has triumphed over death, but his enduring marks of mockery show that he is not triumphalist. What’s the difference? He comes not with the love of power that crushes but with the power of love that transforms.
Jesus uses power in a humble way. He seeks you out and listens to you whatever your stripe and class, the powerful who had a voice and those who had no voice, who were outside the power circle. He shows empathy to your sorrows whether you are great or small. In fact, he pays the deepest attention to the smallest. He is not triumphalist.
In the wreckage of the defeat of every Caesar stands the only glorious Son of God who bears the scars of his humanity. He speaks for a different world where everybody is on the same level. He is comfortable being around lots of different people. When he looks at you in love, can you not sense immediately that you have connected with the transcendent, and you feel transformed in your worth!
Isn’t it amazing how in his glorious power, our Lord and God is unflinchingly humble. He is unchangingly vulnerable. He is utterly, defiantly human. He passionately reaches out to
affirm the deep-seated goodness of each of us. He witnesses to the truth of abundant life—life for all.
So, what does it come to? With him, we can make a world where it is easier to be good. Where it is easier to be generous and gracious. And if you are moved to call him Lord and God, I urge you to mold your life around him. But you may be asking: Can I take the risk of being vulnerable; utterly, defiantly human? Can I take the risk to stand in someone’s shoes so different from who you are? Can I take the risk to find a way to be firm in what you believe, yet to show that everyone I meet is, in some way, better than I am, and I can learn from them.? Yes, you can! With this powerful and humble Son of God accompanying you, you can. It your way of saying No! to the power of control for the sake of the cause of liberty. It will make you free.