Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not from this world (John 18:36)

For some years, while Christopher was growing up, we had family membership of Historic Scotland because pretty much anywhere you go in Scotland there’s likely to be a ruined castle not too far away. One of his favourite places, when he was little, was Caerlaverock Castle. Not too far from where my parents lived were the ruins of Kenilworth Castle, it’s eleven foot thick curtain, built to resist besieging cannon, now a pile of rubble. All these once-proud symbols in stone of power and dominion are now climbing frames for children. Time has a way of doing that.

In the Gospel of John Jesus is confronted by Pilate: the representative of the most powerful empire the world had ever seen. Its rule extended all round the Mediterranean, over all of what is now Turkey and through most of what is now Western Europe; across the Middle East until it bumped into the Parthians in Mesopotamia. This man addressing Christ was the supreme representative of what we might call ‘kingdom’ in the usual sense of the word; in the earthly sense of the word. He had the power of life and death over the people he governed. His rule was backed by the armed might of an army that had conquered a continent. Most people would think this was not a man to be messed with, yet Jesus speaks to him without obeisance and without genuflection. He speaks to him man to man because that is what he is. And, along with the emperor he served, he would one day be no more than dust in this world.

Even the mightiest empire the world had ever seen would, with time, crumble and its fine buildings would fall into ruin. A few miles south of here you can walk along the ruins of one of its great walls. That’s what happens to earthly kingdoms with time. It’s what happens to kingdoms based on power and status and dominance. They rise and they fall. Maybe Jesus knew that. He probably did - the history of the Jewish people is full of empires that rose and fell. When Jesus said that his kingdom was not from this world he may well have had that in mind.

That’s the thing about power and status and dominance. They can be grasped for a moment, but they eventually slip from your grasp. You can enforce your will by the power of the sword for a time, but eventually that power will fail. Such is the way of the kingdoms of the world. I guess Jesus knew that too. That’s why he insisted that his kingdom was not from this world. It’s why he points out that if it were his followers would now be fighting for him. And they’d probably fall before the armed juggernauts that were the legionaries of Rome. For Christ’s kingdom there had to be another way - a way that built things that would last. A way that would speak to people of eternity.

Sometimes we’ve forgotten that. A few centuries after the encounter between Jesus and Rome that we heard about this morning the Emperor of Rome became Christian. The Roman Empire became Christian. That was kind of a mixed blessing. On the one side it made spreading the Gospel easier. On the other side we bought into the logic of the world. The Church sometimes accepted the ways of earthly kingdoms and tried to enforce its will through power, status and dominance. There were crusades and religious wars. There were condemnations and inquisitions. Sometimes I hear people express regret that the Church isn’t the power in the land that it used to be, but maybe that’s not something to be regretted. Maybe it’s something to be embraced as an opportunity.

“My kingdom is not from this world”, said Jesus. See that word ‘from’? The old King James Version has ‘of’ instead. “My kingdom is not of this earth”. The actual Greek word is “ek”: ‘out of’.  Jesus isn’t saying that his kingdom is some separate place - Heaven if you like. He’s saying that his kingdom isn’t based on the ways of this world. It isn’t built on power and status and dominance. It doesn’t need armed might to further it through conquest and destruction. It doesn’t need crowns or castles or pomp and circumstance. Christ’s throne is set in a more humble but altogether more powerful place: the human heart.

Not that muscle that pounds in our chests, with its chambers and valves, but that part of us that yearns for a better world. That part of us that instinctively knows that the way that the world does kingdom - they way of power and status and dominance - simply brings sorrow and hunger and grief and want for too many people. That part of us that longs for a better world - a world where we care for one another, where we look after one another, where no one goes hungry or homeless, where no one gets forgotten. That part of us Jesus was speaking of when he said, “the Kingdom of Heaven is within you.”

So often we think of kingdoms as places on a map with frontiers and four colours. “Kingdom”, though, in the Bible, means rulership. Who rules in our hearts? Who do we choose to follow? Whose commands do we accept? Does Christ reign in our hearts? If the answer to those questions is “yes”, then we have something brilliant to offer a world that too often accepts the logic of folk like Pilate.

Let us walk in the reign of Christ. Let us be that person that people feel they can come to when they’re hurting or grieving or worried or lonely and know that they’ll find someone who’ll put on the kettle and sit down with a cup of tea or coffee and listen to them and care about what’s troubling them. Why? Because the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that everyone matters because everyone is a child of God.

Let us walk in the reign of Christ. Let us be ready to speak up for the people who aren’t like Pilate or the kings and executives of the world - the people that the logic of the world declares to be ‘unimportant’. Let’s be the people who challenge the casual coldness of the world toward people who are in need and feed those who are hungry, clothe those who are naked, house those who are homeless as if they were our king. Because the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that everyone matters because everyone is a child of God.

Let us walk in the reign of Christ. Let us belong to the kingdom of Christ - a kingdom based not on the logic of the world, on power or status or dominance, but on the only thing in this world that makes a real and lasting difference; on love. Over the years I’ve engaged in conversations with atheists who contend that religion is all about people controlling others, but here’s the thing: Jesus never sought to control anyone. He was a carpenter’s son from the backwoods of a small part of a huge empire. He wasn’t in a position to exert control.

Instead he offered his followers a choice. The choice to walk in his way, to accept his teachings. The opportunity to embrace a way of life that is at odds with the ways of the world. A way of life that speaks of the love of God for all his children. A way of life that puts the needs of others before our own. A way of life that insists that none of the words we use to divide ourselves - nation, language, skin, status - matter one jot. That’s what we can offer the world if we walk in the reign of Christ.

Lord, may we always try to remember that we are citizens of your kingdom. May we live in the world  but not accept the logic  it offers. Rather may we accept the way of love taught by your Son whose reign we accept

Preached at Kirkpatrick-Fleming parish church