08/06/2026
โโฆ๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ป๐ด๐ฟ๐, ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฑ ๐๐ผ๐๐น๐ฑ ๐ป๐ผ๐ ๐ด๐ผ ๐ถ๐ปโฆโ
Only hours before He died, Jesus Christ stood (as best He could) in front of Pontius Pilate, the most powerful man in the country. For the past couple of hours Heโd been tied up, pushed around, knocked down, slapped, punched, laughed at and spat on. Looking at the beaten-up, staggering Man, Pilate spoke sarcastically, โThey say youโre the king of the Jews. Are you?โ
โMy kingdom,โ Jesus answered him, no doubt looking Pilate straight on, through bruised eyes and a bloodied face, โis not of this world.โ His answer left Pilate staggered, and for the next half hour or so the cynical politician found himself entangled in something that left him unnerved and unable to decide what to do about this Man. In the end, the death-plaque that hung above His head on the cross, proclaiming Him King of the Jews, Pilate refused to alter. It was not just to irritate the irritating Jewish priests. There was something about the Man. According to an old Christian legend, that morning would haunt Pilate the rest of his life.
His Kingdom is not of this world. Itโs not a kingdom of thrones and palaces, not won with swords or held with guns. It doesnโt hold sway by fear nor intimidate with threats. For all that, it calls its citizens to a discipline more demanding than the strictest taskmaster. It recruits us to a warfare, first and most profoundly, with ourselves, our twisted natures, our inherent selfishness, our greed, and perhaps most of all for those of us engaged in the contest, our self-righteousness. The members of His Kingdom are called to live โ to ๐๐ (as St Thomas insists) โ not of this world (which weโve created), but of His world, His Kingdom, which He is creating in us.
In the Lord Jesusโ most memorable of parables, the spoiled son turns prodigal, ruins himself, and comes home tail between his legs. His sorrow is self-serving: heโs not sorry he sinned; he regrets the sad ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ถ๐ญ๐ต๐ด of his sin. His father, who stands for God in the story, knows this. God takes us back no matter how pathetic and self-serving we are.
The fun, most profound and moving part of the Lordโs tale is yet to come: the righteous older brother, the straight-arrow, the resentful and angry son, does what heโs told for the same reason as his โrepentantโ brother: in hopes of an eventual payoff. They both โloveโ their father in hopes of what they can get. As it unfolds, this is far less a parable of forgiveness than of redemption, of the working of grace, the power of constant, undistilled love.
You know what happens: the prodigal is feted, reinvested in his position, fed the fatted calf, celebrated with singing and dancing. The older brother learns whatโs happened and pouts outside the house, refusing to join in the rejoicing. So the father comes out, not to compel nor even convince, but to open his angry sonโs eyes to love and invite him to find that same love waiting for him, too. โHe said unto him, โSon, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.โโ
This kingdom of grace is the kingdom of which Jesus Christ is king. In this kingdom you and I are constantly challenged to follow our king: weโre called to take up the Cross whenever pride whispers to us, anger hardens us, or envy ensnares us.
Weโre called to love โ we were created by it, weโre called to practice it โ in the end, weโre meant to live it. Every struggle of your life centers on finding that Love and refining it.
The father drew both sons into his love, inviting them to open their eyes. Perhaps they did. We can hope they began to grow in love. Who knows? That old legend says that even Pontius Pilate, at the end of his life, bowed before baptism.
Life is a cauldron of grace and Love is the flame beneath it. See less
