We Have No King but Christ

Thankful Memorial Episcopal Church
Chattanooga, Tennessee

Good Friday

Readings: Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 22; Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9; John 18:1-19:42

The Gospel today provokes the question, who is our king? We have two choices: the emperor or Jesus. Which king will we follow? In whom will we place our trust?

The crowds at Pilate’s headquarters give us their answer: “We have no king but the emperor,” they cry. Jesus, this King of the Jews, is not their king. Their loyalty lies with Rome.

Pilate’s king is certainly the emperor. Pilate’s power is dependent on his relationship with the emperor–he only serves at the emperor’s pleasure. If Pilate wants to hold on to power (and he does), he must stay on the emperor’s good side. Send the taxes to Rome; maintain order no matter what. Pilate has no king but the emperor.

The followers of Jesus are faced with the same choice in a sense. Will they follow Jesus to the cross, or will they go their own way? The women and the disciple whom Jesus loved follow Jesus all the way to the cross; others choose to abandon him and seek their own self-preservation against the threat of Rome.  

Who is our king? Ultimately this choice is a question of trust. We are asked, in whom will we put our trust? Will we place our trust in emperors? Or will we place our trust in Jesus Christ, the Son of God? Will we look to fine palaces, places of power and prestige, with thrones and symbols of authority? Or will we look to a hill on which stands Jesus’ throne, the cross?

In our daily lives, we are presented with many emperors. We are invited over and over to place our ultimate trust in a never-ending stream of things and people. We are told to put our ultimate trust in the power of money. Invest in this scheme; buy gold; hire this financial adviser; trust the market. We are told to put our trust in political figures or ideas. Follow this person; they know how to straighten everything out. If only everyone would buy into this taxation strategy, everything would be fixed. If only we all listened to this news source, we could be saved. If we carry a gun, we will always be safe. And then there’s our health: take this magic pill. Practice this form of meditative stretching. Go see this doctor or read this book. Now we can freeze our bodies and put them in storage, all in the hope that one day when they find a cure for our illness, they can revive us and heal us. All these things become the keys to our own peace and security.  

We are looking for saviors. After all, we need saviors. The world in which we live is often unstable and unpredictable. Our bodies and our pocketbooks are prone to threats. We want something to save us–something to protect us from vulnerabilities, from weakness. That’s what emperors are. They are our saviors–or those who claim to be our saviors, to have all of the answers. These are the things that claim our loyalty. Follow us, say these worldly emperors, and you will never be vulnerable.  And we are tempted to respond, like the crowds, “We have no king but [these] emperor[s].”

Or we can follow Jesus on the way of the cross. Jesus Christ can be our king. We can put our ultimate trust and loyalty in him.

The way of Jesus–the way of the cross–is not the way of these emperors. It is not a way that directs us away from vulnerability; it takes us right into it. It is not a way that shields us from weakness; it plunges us into it. It is not a way that shys away from pain; it shows us that the price of love is pain. And to our amazement, we find that this way is the way of life and peace. It is a path paved with love–not sentimental love, but true love that sacrifices and gives without seeking anything in return.

This salvation is different from what is offered by the worldly emperors. Unlike them, Christ does not claim to offer us a carefree way. Christ offers us life and freedom: a life and freedom rooted in the power of love, in the power of giving everything and holding nothing back, in the power of sacrifice, in the power of obedience to God, in the power of the cross.

On Good Friday, we look at Jesus, we look at the cross, we look at this way of love that plunges us into vulnerability, weakness, and pain, and we are called to choose that. We are called to confess that we have no king but Christ. We are called to reject the emperors of the world for what they are: false gods with empty promises. For on the cross, we see the Son of God; we see our King. We see the way of life and peace. We see our salvation and the salvation of all the world.