Lectionary Reflection for Reign of Christ C on Luke 23:33-43

THE SHAMING OF EMPIRE

And so we reach the end of another liturgical year, and the celebration of the Reign of Christ (or Christ the King as it is often called). This year, especially, this Sunday takes on both a new awkwardness and a new meaning in the light of the “No Kings” Protests held on June 14 and October 18, both of which drew more than five million people in opposition to the policies and actions of the Trump Administration.^¹ Not only were these protests held across the USA, but protests were also held in some European countries in solidarity.² In the light of these strong calls for “no kings”, what are we to do with a celebration that calls Christ a king? Perhaps there are two main approaches we might take.

We may want to interpret Christ’s kingship through the kings we know. If this is our choice, we may not immediately see a distinction between the monarchs and rulers of human nations throughout history and the reign of Christ. Too often, believers who praise Christ as king define the divine rule in the same dominant, self-serving, enemy-destroying, violent terms as human powers. It certainly seems that so-called MAGA Christian nationalists have followed Donald Trump in spite of—or perhaps because of—policies that harm immigrants, the poor, women, and the most vulnerable citizens, while providing tax breaks to corporations and billionaires.³ For these same Christians, the return of Christ is often framed as the time when God will destroy the earth, punish God’s enemies—sending them to eternal torment—and create a new divine kingdom in heaven where true believers will enjoy eternal bliss.

But there is another way to approach the celebration of the reign of Christ. Rather than viewing Christ’s kingship in terms of the rulers of our world, we can assess the reigns of human leaders by comparing them to the divine monarchy. When we do this, the difference between Christ’s reign and the kings and queens of this world comes into stark focus. This is the approach that the writer of Luke’s Gospel used as he described Jesus’ execution at the hands of the Roman Empire.

It is significant that for the Feast of the Reign of Christ in Year C, the Lectionary has not chosen one of the readings we might expect, but has rather taken us to Luke’s account of the cross. As Debie Thomas writes:

Given the pomp and circumstance we typically associate with kings, we might turn to the lectionary this week, expecting to find passages that sound, well, kingly. Something glorious from the Book of Revelation, perhaps, about Jesus sitting on his throne, decked out in splendid robes and a jeweled crown. Or something majestic from Isaiah: “A son will be given to us, and the government will rest upon his shoulders.” Or at least a shiny moment from one of the Gospels: Jesus transfigured on the mountaintop. Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Jesus emerging from the waters of baptism, heaven thundering in his ears.

But no. We find none of these. What we find instead is a crucifixion scene. A stripped and suffocating man, wracked with pain. A crowd of mockers spewing hate. A man hanging between thieves, derision in his ears, speaking blessing and promise to someone less fortunate than himself.⁴

The Gospel of Luke does not focus on the physical horror of the crucifixion so much as the humiliation of it. As Emerson Powery notes, “Whatever else might be the meaning of the crucifixion in the first-century, crucifixion was a public performance in order to produce a public shaming”.⁵ In the Roman drama of execution, Jesus’ identity and authority were called into question, and his futile attempt, from Rome’s perspective, to challenge Roman power was exposed and crushed.

But while the empire may have believed that it had publicly shamed Jesus, Scripture gives us a very different picture. In Colossians 2:15, Paul writes that Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in [the cross]” (NRSV). The account of Jesus’ death in Luke’s Gospel puts the empire on trial and submits it to public shaming because it exposes the truth that human empires can never bring about the world of peace, justice, inclusion, and compassion that we long for. They are always more concerned with maintaining their power at all costs, and this ultimately makes them destructive and inhuman. As the British historian, Lord John Dalberg-Acton, famously said, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely”.

THE UNRECOGNISED REIGN

In Luke’s crucifixion account, the reign of Christ is completely unrecognised by almost all the witnesses. As Joel B. Green notes, Jesus is made to endure three phases of mockery in which “persons of diminishing status—the religious leaders, the Roman soldiers, and an executed criminal—turn their derisive attention on Jesus, scoffing at him, mocking him, and blaspheming him”.⁶ The words used in the taunts of Jesus’ mockers echo the words of the satan who tempted Jesus in the wilderness (Luke 4:5-12): “If he really is the Christ…” (23:35); “If you really are the king of the Jews…” (32:37); “Aren’t you the Christ?” (23:39).⁷

The final insult, by the criminal who had already been judged and sentenced by society, would, of course, have been the most humiliating. The two men who were crucified beside Jesus were almost certainly rebels, perhaps zealots, who opposed the Roman Empire and were sentenced to death.⁸ Luke exposes the destructive power of the Roman Empire by showing how this man, who had resisted the empire to the point of death, now, even as he was being executed by the empire, joined Jewish leaders and Roman soldiers in their attacks on Jesus. There is a tragic irony to his final act being a capitulation to the empire’s power-hoarding agenda.