Illustration Courtesy of Mike Slaughter
When Kingdoms Collide
While Jesus was heading into the Holy City from the east on the Sunday morning preceding Passover celebrations, the Roman contingent, headed by the Roman prefect Pontius Pilate, paraded into the city with quite an impressive display of military power from the west. The Romans reinforced their occupation forces on Jewish high holy days to discourage any attempted insurrection by rebel leaders who made their camps in the Galilee and wilderness regions of the country and who might take advantage of the swelling holiday crowd. Numerous political resisters had claimed to be Jewish political messiahs. They planned acts of terrorism and led rebel assaults, attempting to deliver Israel from the oppressive Roman occupation. Pilate wanted to be close enough to the Temple complex with a strong display of Roman force to ensure the “Pax Romana,” Rome’s version of peace. And Rome had the cross, an intimidating execution device, to enforce Roman authority with any who would question it. Thousands of criminals and perceived enemies of the state were executed along the main roads so that all could witness the penalty for insurrection.
By contrast, the rebel Jesus, who came with no sword, rode into the city on a donkey from the east with a group of ordinary working-class folks from backward rural areas. He had been born a member of an oppressed minority and then spent the first two years of his life as a refugee in Africa, escaping Herod the Great’s campaign of infanticide in Bethlehem. Early in Jesus’ ministry, when people had heard where he grew up, some had commented, “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” (John 1:46). On this day, however, the crowds lining the streets along his route into the city hailed Jesus as “the king of Israel” (John 12:13).
In addition to the contingents led by Pilate and Jesus, there was a third force at work: the compromised religious institution. The institution was controlled by a group of aristocratic elite who were no longer concerned with caring for the poor and marginalized. This religious ruling class was intent on placating Rome for the purpose of personal gain and institutional security, with no concern for God’s redemptive mission of justice and righteousness in the world.
Three kingdoms—led by Pilate, Jesus, and the religious elite— were on a collision course. They converged in Jerusalem, and there, during the most dramatic week in human history, the eternal Lord subjected himself to the best knockout punch that evil could throw.
Jesus came to Planet Earth as a peacemaker, but he was not a peacekeeper. This collision of Christ’s countercultural Kingdom with earthly systems rooted in rigidity, corruption, and political power was inevitable. Just days after his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, Jesus was arrested. Yet, he was never powerless. As Jesus told the hotheaded Peter in the Garden, more than “twelve legions of angels” were at his disposal should he choose to resist. But Jesus never played the power card, choosing for mercy to trump vengeance.
Nailed to the cross, soldiers gambling for his clothes, people hurling insults and mocking him, Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Instead of destroying his enemies, Jesus chose to give his life to save the mockers and the persecutors. The cross was Jesus’ most radical demonstration of God’s kingdom.
When we declare “Jesus is Lord” we pledge our all-in, whole-life allegiance to the rebel Jesus. The Lenten season reminds us that we can’t simply just wear the cross – around our necks, on our t-shirts or even hanging on our sanctuary walls – we have to carry the cross, faithfully serving Jesus in the renegade gospel.
The Rev. Mike Slaughter is senior pastor of Ginghamsburg United Methodist Church in Ginghamsburg, Ohio. This post was excerpted with the author's permission from his book RENEGADE GOSPEL: The Rebel Jesus.