Presidents and Pundits and Prophets, Oh My

The Upsidedown Call of Palm Sunday

“The kingdom of heaven is like…”

We hear Jesus repeat this refrain time and again throughout the gospels. The kingdom of heaven is like…

…a mustard seed planted in a field

…a merchant looking for fine pearls

…a net full of all kinds of fish

…a treasure hidden in a field

…yeast working through a ball of dough

…a homeowner emptying treasure from his storehouses

…a vintner hiring workers for his vineyard

…a king preparing a banquet for his son.

Jesus spent the better part of three chapters in Matthew’s gospel talking about the upside down nature of the kingdom of heaven, inaugurated by an framework of kingdom ethics we call the beatitudes:

…Blessed are the poor

…Blessed are those who mourn

…Blessed are the meek

…Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for God’s justice (this is what “righteousness means”)

…Blessed are the merciful

…Blessed are the pure in heart

…Blessed are those who cultivate shalom

…Blessed are those who suffer for their justice work

This is the picture Jesus gave of what the kingdom of heaven is like. It is no wonder that Jesus looked Pontius Pilate square in the eye and explained that his kingdom’s power center was other-worldly. That’s not simply a statement of origin, but one of orientation. The kingdom of God is not simply from somewhere else, it operates unlike anything else in this world.

The Kingdom of heaven transcends human power, exalting the meek and toppling the mighty from their thrones (this was, after all, the promise of the Mother of the Messiah in her Magnificat in Luke 1). The beautiful irony of Palm Sunday is that the image of matchless divine power entered the streets of ancient human power atop a colt—a lowly symbol of peace. Once again, the God Man reminds us that his kingdom is not like the kingdoms of this world.

But the resurrection of Jesus, which Christians have traditionally celebrated for fifty days following the end of Holy Week (yes, Easter is fifty days, not one), also serves as a calling card of sorts to the principalities and powers of this age. The King is returning—and this time it will be on a white horse.

This impending return is good news to the captive, to the lowly, and to the oppressed—and quite terrible news to those who cling so tightly to power in this present age. The soon return of the King is a notice to the powerful of the day that such human power—power to lord over, to corrupt, to gain, to fatten—has a shelf life. And when the King returns, his eternal rule won’t be through the halls of power Washington or London or Moscow or Beijing. All of them—with the toiling and striving and jockeying for control over their thrones—will (to paraphrase the old song) “grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.”

This vision of the kingdom of heaven, given to us by the King himself and passed down through the testimony of the apostles, is quite different than the vision that is put forth by the political punditry and the false prophetic types that follow around American politicians, doing their bidding to garner votes from the Christian masses in exchange for some crumbs of influence that fall from the master’s table. The vision of this worldly “Christian” kingdom (though it is anything but Christ-like) calls for the kingdom without the King (though we’re happy to use his name). It touts morality through legislation instead of redemption. It tells women to know in their place and that we would be better off isolated in our tribes than in celebrating the diversity of John’s Revelation 7 vision.

It is a bombastic kingdom, arrogant and loud, insisting that to be a good Christian you must vote this way or that—attempting to add a voting clause to the New Covenant established at Calvary, because the King had apparently not thought through salvation thoroughly enough.

While it claims to be Christian, it is a kingdom wholly of this world, insisting that character in leaders don’t matter, that ends justify the means, that the proud strong man will inherit the earth, that boorishness is virtue, and that enmeshing our allegiance to Christ with allegiance to nation or politician or party will work this time around (ignoring that, in all of Christian history, it’s never worked well for us).

This kingdom promises Christians in America the whole world and the low price of the next generation who looks upon our moral inconsistency with horror. It is the very incarnation of trading our gospel birthright for a bowl of stew.

But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

As for me and my house, we will be ambassadors of an Other Kingdom, and upsidedown kingdom—a kingdom ruled by the God Man who comes to us riding atop a colt, wielding all the power of the cosmos yet laying down his life for the lost sheep of the world.

As for me and my house, we will say, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”

As for me and my house, we will only pledge allegiance to King Jesus.