King of the Jews

Dear Ehud,

We have considered Christ in His offices of prophet and priests, and so we come now to the third one—the office of king.

In His trial before the Sanhedrin, Jesus was convicted on a charge of blasphemy, acknowledging that He was the Son of God (Matt. 26:65). To the extent that angle entered into His trial before Pilate, which it did some, the idea that He could be the Son of God rattled Pilate badly (John 19:7-8). His wife’s bad dreams probably didn’t help on that front either (Matt. 27:19). So the charge before the Jewish Council was blasphemy, but despite how unsettling it might have been, that would not do for a Roman conviction. The charge before Pilate had to be one of sedition—so the accusation there was that Jesus claimed to be King of the Jews, and therefore Caesar’s rival.

Pilate had asked Jesus if He was King of the Jews, and Jesus asked in reply whether that was Pilate’s question or is someone else had put him up to it (John 18:33-34). The question obviously came from His accusers outside, and so Jesus explained—briefly—that His kingdom was not the kind that was going to challenge Caesar on Caesar’s terms. His kingdom was not of this world. If that had been the case, His disciples would be fighting with swords to defend Him (John 18:36). His was a different sort of kingdom (John 18:37).

A lot of confusion has surrounded the Lord’s statement to Pilate that His kingdom was “not of this world.” The preposition there is ek, which can also be rendered as “out of, or from” The seat of authority for this kingdom was not going to be in Jerusalem, or Athens, or Rome, or London, or Washington. When the Lord ascended into Heaven, He approached the Ancient of Days, and was there given a universal kingdom, one that was not from earth. But even though His kingdom was not from this earth, it was manifestly a kingdom that was over this earth, that encompassed this entire earth, and every named authority that this earth contained.

A very common interpretation of these words is that “my kingdom is not of this world” is that it means that His kingdom is wispy and ethereal, and very very spiritual, and that it has plenipotentiary power somewhere in the 17th dimension—but never here. They take it to mean “my kingdom is not related to this world in any way.” But what it actually means is that the source and origin of the Lord’s authority is different, being grounded at the right hand of God the Father . . . instead of in the sly wiliness of the next aspiring and scabrous politician down here.

Perhaps because he was irritated at having been pressured by the Jewish rulers, when ordering the crucifixion, Pilate had a sign placed over the Lord’s head, saying, “The King of the Jews.” The sign was posted in three languages—Hebrew, Latin, and Greek. The Jewish leaders protested at this, and asked Pilate to change it to something more suitable, like “He said, ‘I am King of the Jews.'” To this, Pilate flatly refused (John 19:21-22). He drew the line in the wrong place, but he did eventually draw one.

The phrase “King of the Jews” was used at the very beginning of the Lord’s life, when the magi came to Jerusalem (Matt. 2:2). But it is striking how often the phrase or something very much like it came up during His last hours—Pilate asked Him if He was King of the Jews (Matt. 27:11). When the soldiers were beating and mocking Him, they hailed Him as “King of the Jews” (Matt. 27:29). Pilate mentioned that His accusers called Him “King of the Jews” (Mark. 15:12). Soldiers mocked Him while He was on the cross—”if you are king of the Jews, save yourself” (Luke 23:37). The chief priests mocked Him on the cross as well, with a slight variation. They promised they would believe Him if He would just come down from the cross as the “King of Israel” (Matt. 27:42). But up from the grave was going to be far more compelling than down from the cross.

This naturally brings up the question, king in what way exactly? All of this is obviously related to the kingdom of God, or the kingdom of the heavens. Jesus began His preaching ministry by declaring the arrival of the kingdom of God (Luke 4:43; Matt. 4:17). Later on, He sends His disciples out to preach His kingdom (Luke 9:2). After His resurrection from the dead, and before His ascension into Heaven, how did He instruct His disciples? It was all about the kingdom of God (Acts 1:3). His followers took the lesson to heart, and all through the book of Acts, the message was the message of the kingdom. Philip preached that way in Samaria (Acts 8:12), Paul taught it in Ephesus (Acts 19:8), and at the very end of Acts, when Paul was under house arrest in Rome, the kingdom was the theme of his message there (Acts 28:31).

And what is that kingdom? It refers to the reign and the realm of the Lord Jesus.

First the reign. That reign is forever. In the verse I cited earlier, Daniel 7:14, we are told He has an everlasting dominion, one that will never be destroyed. We get the same thing in Revelation 11:15—a verse that is hard to quote without hearing the music of Handel in the background.

And this provides a great lead-in to the second aspect of this, which is the realm of the Lord Jesus. How big is it? What does it encompass? This is the place where we must challenge the wispy, hyper-spiritual version of it. The kingdoms of this world are swallowed by the kingdom of our Lord, and of His Christ. He is the King of kings, remember (Rev. 17:14; 19:16). The second use of the noun king in that phrase refers to ordinary kings. The first use is the extraordinary one. And the kings of this earth bring their honor and glory into the New Jerusalem (Rev. 21:24, 26), who is the queen of this kingdom (Rev. 21:9-10). The kings of the earth are admonished by the psalmist to “kiss the Son” lest He be angry (Ps. 2:12).

And so this is why, when the Lord tells His disciples that all authority “in Heaven and on earth” has been given to Him (Matt. 28:18-20), He follows it up by telling them to go incorporate the nations of men into His divine commonwealth. The Lord rather bluntly commanded that Christendom be formed.

Because Jews are inhabitants of this world, this means that Jesus is, unironically, the King of the Jews. Although many Jews down through history have recognized this—Epiphanus of Salamis, Immanuel Tremellius, William Herschel, Felix Mendelssohn, and Benjamin Disraeli for starters—Jewry at large is still characterized by its rejection of the claim. More about that in a later letter. My point here simply recognizes that all do not admit the claim. But the Christian counterclaim is nevertheless that Christ is king, having been crowned in the heavenly places at His ascension. Our claim is not the He is running for president and we are trying to get Him elected. Evangelism is not canvassing for votes. Evangelism is rather a proclamation, the declaration that Christ is king.

What we are doing is fanning out through the countryside, telling the people in the hinterlands that the capital city has fallen, and that a new king has been crowned.

To wrap this up, I used the phrase Christ is king just now. The denotation of that phrase simply refers to everything I have mentioned earlier in this letter. A Christian is simply someone who recognizes and submits to the universal authority of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a theological confession. But for some Jews, the phrase has become offensive because of certain connotations that it has picked up in the mouths of certain bad-tempered Christians afflicted with a troubling case of the Jew flu. It is one thing to confess that Christ is king, and quite another to say that “Christ is king, you dirty Jew.” But people who speak that way are hypocrites—maintaining that Christ is king of the universe while refusing His kingship over their tongues and their mouths.

But sensible Jews—Gamaliel-like—expect Christians to believe Christian things. And it is actually possible to do this and to love Jews at the same time. I’ll finish with a story that I think illustrates the point nicely. My parents were friends with Corrie ten Boom, and one time they brought her to our town to speak. My father had previously given one of her books—A Prisoner and Yet—to a Jewish neighbor, and she got positively excited at the news that Corrie was coming. She wanted to know if it would be possible to arrange for her to come to speak at her synagogue. That was arranged, and so my dad took her there. As he was sitting there, listening to her speak, he was thinking something like this to himself . . . “If she says ‘the Lord Jesus Christ’ one more time, we are not going to make it out of here.” But they did make it out . . . and why? They knew that she loved them.

If I may, let me finish with this gem from Augustine:

Cordially in Christ,

Douglas Wilson