THIRTY-FOURTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME – YEAR B

THE TEXT BELOW IS THE TRANSCRIPTION OF THE VIDEO COMMENTARY BY FR. FERNANDO ARMELLINI

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A good Sunday to all. 

In the Ancient Middle East, it was common to attribute the title of king to the supreme God. Amon in Egypt was called king, and Morduch in Babylon was likewise called king. This title was used to show God’s sovereignty, which, like that of all earthly kings, demands obedience and protects those under his rule. In the Bible, the God of Israel is rarely called king but is often described as the God who reigns—the God who will one day take control of his people’s destiny and create a new world where justice and peace will last forever. 

And Jesus begins his public life by proclaiming that the kingdom of God has arrived and is present. It is here that the phrase ‘kingdom of God’ or ‘kingdom of heaven,’ central to Jesus’ preaching, appears at least 104 times in the Gospels. He has come specifically to establish a new kingdom in the world, the kingdom of God. 

Pius XI referred to this ‘kingdom’ when he established the feast of Christ the King in 1925. Those were turbulent years for Europe; World War II was approaching, and the madness of absolute power was spreading everywhere. In Italy, the Fascist regime was already in place. Russia was already under Stalin’s rule. In Germany, Nazism was about to take hold. Spain and Portugal were on the verge of falling under the control of these absolute powers. It seemed that everyone was aiming to dominate and conquer the world. 

In this context, Pius XI, by establishing this feast, sought to affirm that history belongs to Christ, not to the great ones of this world. However, we should approach the feast of Christ the King with caution, as its meaning is easily misunderstood. The real risk is to ascribe to Jesus a kingship he does not accept. This is the kingship Satan offered him at the beginning of his public ministry—something he refused when Satan took him to the top of a mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world, saying to him: ‘I can give them to you if you listen to me; if you do anything, I will suggest it to you.’ And Jesus rejected this kingship. 

Monarchies are now nearly gone, but the image of kings, emperors, and pharaohs remains very much alive. Historically, kings held power, won wars, expanded their territories, and enslaved other peoples. Jesus has nothing to do with this form of royalty, so we must be cautious when we associate a king’s image with him. Even the Popes haven’t always clearly understood what Christ’s kingship entails; they often confused it with earthly kingships. 

Jesus was well aware of this danger and made it clear: ‘The kings of the nations rule them; those who have power over the people rule them and even pretend to call themselves benefactors. Among you, it is not so,’ he said to the disciples. A distinction the disciples found hard to accept; a distinction that has been forgotten even by the Church over the centuries. We all know the mistakes made: the alliances formed with the powers of this world, the Holy Roman Empire, the struggle for investiture; but without going that far, we all remember that up to Paul VI, the popes boasted of the tiara, the triregnum (the papal tiara), and that at their coronation they were proclaimed ‘fathers of princes and kings, rulers of the world, vicars of Christ on earth.’ Well, these kingships are not what we refer to when we speak of Christ the King. 

In today’s Gospel passage, we see two kingdoms confronting each other: the kingdom of this world, represented by Pilate and the Roman rulers, and the new kingdom introduced by Christ. These kingdoms are incompatible because they are based on opposing principles. The Gospel presents us with two kingdoms today because we need to choose which one we want to belong to. We must be careful not to be deceived by appearances, or we risk siding with the wrong kingdom. In the end, we could find ourselves among the losers. 

Let us begin by situating the confrontation between Jesus and Pilate regarding legality: 

Pilate entered again into the praetorium, called Jesus, and asked him, Are you the king of the Jews?

Pilate is a figure whose name most people wouldn’t remember today, except that he was the king of the Jews on Friday, April 7, in the year 30, on the eve of Passover, when he met Jesus. Who was Pilate? The philosopher Philo of Alexandria, his contemporary, describes him as a man with an inflexible nature—arrogant, hard, capable only of executions, violent, a robber, brutal, a torturer, an executioner without trial, and known for terrible and limitless cruelty. He lived in Caesarea and was in Jerusalem during Passover; he had arrived with 500 soldiers to keep order. 

Let us attempt to locate the praetorium mentioned in the Gospel. It was his residence, where the meeting with Jesus occurred. It was indeed the palace built by Herod the Great, which he had occupied since 23 B.C. It consisted of two grand buildings, which Herod the Great named ‘Caesareon,’ in honor of Caesar Augustus, his close friend and protector; and ‘Agripéion,’ in honor of Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, Caesar Augustus’s son-in-law, who married Julia, Caesar Augustus’s daughter, and was also a good friend of Herod. 

To understand what the evangelist John tells us, let us look at the gate in the courtyard that separates the two beautiful buildings. It overlooks the ‘agorah,’ the upper marketplace of Jerusalem. Therefore, we can imagine that, on the eve of Passover, the market began to come alive early in the morning. The high priests, the scribes, and members of the Sanhedrin arrive at that gate; those who, during the night, pronounced the sentence of death upon Jesus. They come to the agora, in front of that gate. They cannot enter because if they pass through it, they enter a pagan’s house, become unclean, and cannot celebrate Passover. Therefore, they ask Pilate to come out and speak with them; they want to meet him. Because of these people’s religious scruples, Pilate will have to pass between this gate, where he meets the accusers, and the palace interior, where he will interrogate Jesus. 

Inside this palace, there will be a dialogue between Pilate and Jesus about kingship. Since the late 1800s, scholars have recognized that Pilate’s back-and-forth between the door leading to the agora and the palace interior creates seven scenes: those that occur outside the palace and those inside, where Pilate speaks with Jesus. When he arrives at the door, Pilate asks, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” The Jews answer simply, “If he were not an evildoer, we would not have delivered him to you.” So there is no specific accusation. 

Here begins the second scene, the one narrated in today’s Gospel passage. Pilate re-enters the palace, and inside the praetorium, there is now a confrontation between two powers, two kingdoms: the one represented by the Roman official Pontius Pilate and the one represented by Jesus. Pilate’s only concern is to ensure that Jesus is not a ringleader capable of inciting disorder or questioning the emperor’s authority. That is why he immediately asks Jesus the question he wants to ask: “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus does not answer him and instead asks a counter-question.

 Let us listen: 

Jesus answered: “Do you say this on your own, or have others told you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests handed you over to me. What have you done?” 

“Do you say this on your own or have others told you about me?” This counter-question of Jesus simply means, ‘Have you investigated, have you gathered evidence that I am an insurgent, or did somebody from my people just tell you?’ In other words, ‘Is the accusation coming from you or from the Jews? For my answer will be different.’ If the question comes from Pilate, then ‘king of the Jews’ means that Jesus intends to exercise political power over the Jews; if, on the other hand, the accusation comes from the Jews, then ‘king of the Jews’ means something else; it means the king they are waiting for, the messiah, the anointed one, the one the prophets have spoken of, and a king who, above all, has a religious dimension; he will be the one who will lead the people back to God, the one who will bring back the blessings of Abraham to all the peoples of the earth, the one who will defend the wretched, the poor, and those who find no help; he will have mercy on the weak; he will save the lives of the wretched. 

And, of course, Pilate replies, “I am not a Jew, am I?” – ‘I speak as a Roman procurator, not as a religious Jew. I want to know if you are the king of the Jews; the messiah thing, I’m not interested in prophecies, I’m interested in politics and security.’ That’s what it means, ‘I’m not even a Jew!’ ‘Forget about what those who think about the future, what have you done?’ Jesus could have answered: ‘Ask the people; they will tell you that I have always spoken of love, peace, justice, and sharing of goods, of service to the needy. I healed the sick, I defended the poor; I helped those who made mistakes in life. It is true, I also overturned money changers’ tables, and I expelled sellers and buyers from the temple, but this is a matter of our religion, and you are certainly not interested in it. I have spoken of the kingdom of heaven, but far be it from me to want to rule over the Jews.’ 

Jesus could have responded this way, but instead he broadens the discussion to clearly explain to Pilate what he means by kingship and the kind of kingdom he has always spoken about. Throughout his public life, he has never mentioned the kingdom of the Jews; he has only spoken of the kingdom of God. Let us listen to how Jesus introduces the topic: 

Jesus answered, My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not here. 

“My kingdom,” says Jesus to Pilate, “does not belong to this world.” Therefore, he does not deny that he is king, but he clarifies that his kingly authority is of a different kind, one that does not originate in this world. Pay close attention to the translation, because it does not say that ‘his kingdom is not of this world’ or ‘does not belong to this world,’ as that might suggest that Jesus is building his kingdom in another world, like paradise, where different rules and values apply. NO. His kingdom concerns this world, but it has no origin in this world. 

His kingdom has a different origin; it is not born spontaneously from the world. The kingdoms we are familiar with come from the world, from our material nature—kingdoms that have succeeded one another over the centuries. These are driven by the impulse of biological nature, which pushes people to compete, fight, seek to dominate others, and subjugate the weaker. From the world, from nature, come the kingdoms described by the prophet Daniel in chapter seven. 

They are the kingdoms of the beasts; they are the ones that have succeeded each other throughout history, and the prophet presents them with images of the lion, representing the Babylonians who dominated and mutilated other peoples. But then came a bear, the Medes, who defeated the lion that had previously held sway. These are the beginnings of the kingdoms originating from the worldly realm. Then came a leopard that defeated the bear; these are the Persians, who controlled the entire world. Afterward, a more powerful beast appeared—it’s not even specified which beast it is because it surpasses all the previous ones—this was Alexander the Great. 

Well, the beastly empires described by Daniel tend to disappear, but others emerge. Always in the world, always guided by the same principles, they change the names, but the script remains. It is always the same. What objectives guide the new kingdoms coming from this world? The kingdoms of technocracy, the kingdoms of multinational corporations, the kingdoms that control the exploitation of raw materials, the kingdoms that manage global finances; these are kingdoms that govern themselves according to the principles and values that originate from this world, from the earth. 

Even Jesus was tempted to build his own kingdom on worldly principles. The evil one told him: ‘Look, that’s what everybody does; if you want to conquer the world, you have to adapt and impose yourself in every way, even with lies, dishonesty, injustice, and violence if necessary. Otherwise, in this world, you lose; you can’t succeed.’ Jesus explains to Pilate: ‘If my kingdom were of this world, based on these principles and values, I would also have had to resort to force, and my followers would adopt the ways of everyone; they would take up arms and fight for me.’ It has always been this way; it’s part of the logic of competition among kingdoms seeking dominance. 

Jesus says that the kingdom he established does not originate from this world; it does not stem from our biological nature, which often pulls us in another direction. Instincts do not lead us to forget ourselves, to set aside our own benefit and interests, and to seek the good and life of our brother, even if he is an enemy or has harmed us. Nature does not encourage us to turn the other cheek but to retaliate. The new relationships Jesus wants to build in this world can only come from above, from a life that does not originate on earth—a new, entirely different life that only God can give. 

This life is the Spirit, fully manifested in Jesus, which is love and love alone. The Spirit given to us guides us to love unconditionally and freely; only from this Spirit does the new world and the kingdom that Jesus desires to establish in this world originate. Since this kingdom has nothing in common with worldly realms, it cannot be imposed at all. 

Now Pilate is completely confused; he cannot understand what Jesus is saying because he cannot imagine any kingship other than that of Tiberius, the ruler of the world. However, Pilate has realized that Jesus presents himself as a king and needs to seek confirmation. Let us listen to him: 

So Pilate said to him, “Then you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say I am a king. For I was born for this, and I came into the world to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” 

“Then are you a king?” This time, Pilate does not add ‘of the Jews’ because he understands that Jesus rejects the title of king of the Jews, but he does not understand how one can be king without using force to win or dominate. Then Jesus explains that he has come to bear witness to the truth. Truth in the biblical sense differs from the Greek concept of truth and from our idea of it. For a Jew, truth indicates coherence with reality, with one’s own identity, and with life. 

We also use the adjective ‘true’ in this sense; for example, we say ‘this is true coffee.’ We mean that it is not a substitute, a derivative, or a by-product. Or we say, ‘this is a true priest,’ ‘this is a true Christian.’ We mean it is consistent with what the Gospel teaches. We do not mean that he does not tell lies, but that he is true to the identity we expect him to embody. 

For a Semite, truth is life, not merely an abstract idea. Jesus came to testify to the truth through his person. What truth? Mainly, the truth about God, since many falsehoods about God have been spread by people. The truth about God is revealed to us by Jesus; he is the God who loves the world unconditionally and faithfully. The only response God expects is an embrace, even from his wandering children. Jesus makes this one true God present; the others are idols created by people and serve as substitutes for God. Through his person, Jesus bears witness to the face of God, which is his identity card. His identity card doesn’t say master or dominator; it says servant, slave of people, a slave out of love. Then Jesus came to testify to the truth about humanity. 

What is the true man like? Is the true man the corrupt, the self-indulgent, the violent, the murderer? No, these are still wild beasts. Through his actions, Jesus shows that the true man is someone who loves, willing to lay down his life even for an enemy, even for someone who harms him. This is the true man, as testified by Jesus’ example. Being a true man means following Jesus’ call. He shows us that the true man becomes a lamb among wolves, so let us remember this when we celebrate the Eucharist. In the sign of bread and wine, the Lamb of God is presented to us as we eat the bread and drink the cup; it signifies our commitment to the new kingdom, one of lambs willing to lay down their lives, even for the enemy. 

Jesus also came to bear witness to the truth about the kingdom, the true kingdom. The other kingdoms that come from this world—the values, principles, and logic of the world—are false; they are illusions. In fact, they are extensions of the kingdoms of wild beasts; they are inhuman kingdoms. Jesus is a king, but not in the sense that Pilate understood. He came into the world to reign, yet his kingdom belongs to the one who becomes a servant, not to the one who can impose himself as a master. 

At this point, Pilate does not understand anything at all. If he had grasped the concept of the new kingship, he would have become a true man, a free man; he would have understood that the new kingship teaches us that greatness means serving, not being served. And Jesus didn’t manage to make Pilate understand that, just as he could not get Peter to understand. An earthquake was about to strike the world, shaking it and causing all the inhuman kingdoms to collapse, paving the way for the true kingdom. 

Jesus continues, saying, “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” ‘Whoever wants to be true, let him follow me, like a lamb following the voice of its shepherd.’ Pilate replies, ‘What is truth?’ Jesus’ words have reassured him; he has come to understand that Jesus is not a threat to Rome’s political interests. However, with his question, ‘What is truth?’ he shows his inability and even his disinterest in accepting Jesus’ new light. He could have, at least, waited for Jesus’ answer; if he had asked what Jesus meant by truth, he would have realized that the true men are not Saianus, Tiberius, or the dominators, but the man in front of him — the truth is standing before him, and that man is Jesus of Nazareth. Sadly, Pilate did not open himself to this truth. Let’s remember this because we can also hold on to our own truth about God, man, and society. 

Let us question these truths of ours, which may be tainted by worldliness, in light of the fact that Jesus of Nazareth is presented to us. When we celebrate the Eucharist, we declare our desire to adhere to the kingdom that Jesus brought into the world. 

I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.