A Reflection in Seven Sentences (Based on 1 Corinthians 12:1-11)

I take issue with Paul’s notion that idols do not speak.

He did not get to look beyond the figures of baked clay and metal
to see the ideologies of the modern world
that fight with the unbending words:

“All or nothing.”

Our idols today speak loudly and harshly,
and they have no capacity
for bending,
for forgiving,
or for showing mercy.

They implicitly say,

“Jesus be cursed”

by claiming to have higher importance than Jesus
and his ethic of love for the poor,
the outsider,
and even the enemy.

But, we have the Holy Spirit to speak for us.

We have the Holy Spirit set ablaze within,
who gives us gifts
for the good of all,
and who melts the ideologies of this world as if they were made of wax.

The gifts of the Spirit look different in each one of us,
but they all point over the heads of the idols of this world
to the words of truth written in the heavens:

“Jesus is Lord.”

Reflection on Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

The people “were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah.” With all the talk of winnowing forks, sorting out and burning the chaff (in other words, sorting out the sinful), and the heavens opening up with the Spirit descending as an actual dove on Jesus, I want to ignore all of that dramatic stuff for the time being and instead focus on something much more boring. The people wondered if John was the one who would save them.

Of course, we know that John is not the Messiah, but they did not. They were waiting with great expectation for the one who would come along and make everything right again. John was bold. John was persuasive. John was charismatic. John definitely was not a part of the business-as-usual establishment. Even the soldiers were coming out to listen to him. “Is he the one who will make everything right?”

I focus on this first because, even though I know exactly who my Messiah is, still I find myself searching for someone to fix the problems of the world. “Will he or she finally by the one who will figure it all out and make everything alright?” Or sometimes, more times than I would like to admit, I ask, “Will this thing make everything alright?” We put our trust in so many things each day, expecting them to work miracles.

But, rather than asking you, “What have you put your trust in that ultimately failed?” I will go ahead and offer my life as a humiliation on your behalf. So here we go, a list of people and things that Jira Albers has trusted to make everything right instead of Jesus:

1. Candles and scented soaps. I lit the candles and set them around the bathtub, hoping for an experience of bliss. Instead, I just found myself sitting in a tub with sub-par lighting, and no place to safely rest my head because of all the stupid candles.

2. My dog, Sparky. He was to be my friend at a time when I had very few. And, he was a great dog, when I could bring myself to get close enough to him to pick off all the ticks. And, the licking…I never got into the whole dog licking/kissing thing. Making out with a dog is not a good enough substitute for a girlfriend…just saying.

3. My first car. It was to be my freedom. It was to be my release. It was to be my salvation. It ensured that all my free time was filled with a minimum wage job to pay for gas and insurance. Welcome to the real world Jira.

4. President Bill Clinton. Well, we do not have to say too much more there, do we?

5. My Grandpa. I loved him, and he loved me. We would go on rides in his jeep together, and there were those special times of fishing in the lake with one another. The world was right when I was with Grandpa. And, then the phone call came telling us that he was dead. Even Grandpas are not the eternal Messiah.

Why mention this list? Because, even though we have a Messiah, here’s the reality: it is hard to remember that we have one. There are some days when we are certain that someone or something will make our lives happy and right and good. And, when they fail…as they always do…the feeling is devastation. On those days of devastation, the heavens feel closed up like in the days of Elijah, when God refused to shine on the land and its people. On those days, we feel like the widow as she prepared her last bit of flower and oil for her son and herself. They would plan to eat, and then they would plan to die. Their messiahs had all given out. Everything they looked to and hoped in had dried up, like the blowing soil just beyond their front door.

But, I have news for you: the heavens are not closed up. God has not chosen to leave us dry. Instead, the heavens were torn open and the Spirit was spilled out onto Jesus in the waters of his baptism. And, later Jesus chose to spill that same Spirit upon us.

It is still happening today. They heavens are still torn open, and the Spirit is freely flowing here. Our Messiah has already come, and we have been washed with this saving presence.

That reminds me just how much I like taking time each day to remember my baptism. Here’s how it works; every morning, when you splash your face with that refreshing water and scrub away the grime of the night, you can say boldly, “I am God’s child,” in remembrance of that day when the Spirit was splashed upon you. It’s a great discipline to have. It is refreshing and life-giving. Let’s practice by declaring it loud. “I am God’s child!” “I am God’s child!” “I am God’s child!”

I love this daily morning practice because it reminds me before the day even begins that I do not have to go out into the world looking for a Messiah. I do not have to waste time, putting my trust in people and things that will fail. Instead, I am reminded that Christ has set me free to be who God designed me to be. I am free to go about my day loving the world as much as I want.

Here is an idea. What if, instead of trusting others to fix what we see as wrong in the world…instead of putting hope in a politician or a pastor or someone quite close to you in order to make everything right…what if we simply trusted that Jesus is already on the task of redeeming the world.

Not only that, since we aren’t looking to someone else to fix the world, we can feel free to join in on what God is up to. What if everyone felt free to join Jesus in improving the world, rather than trusting that a politician will do it for us, or worse yet, trusting that scented candles and soaps will magically make the world well?

I can feel bold in asking the question because, I know one thing to be true, your Messiah has come, and Jesus has set you free from all that binds you and holds you back. Sin? Gone. Low self-worth? You are accepted. No matter what binds you, you are free in Jesus Christ. You are free to go from here and love all that you want. No one can stop you. And, the gift of love never dries up. The heavens have been torn open, and the Spirit pours down permanently on us with grace until the end of time. How is that for some good news?

Reflection on John 1:1-18

The confirmation lesson was on that little verse, “love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” This is a hard enough lesson for adults to take seriously and apply to their lives, but for one of the students, it seemed an insurmountable task.

She piped up nervously at the end of the lesson and asked, “What about bullies? I try to love and pray for mine, but it doesn’t help. What do you say about bullies, Pastor?”

The question took courage to ask in the first place, in front of other kids, no doubt. But, they clearly were not judging her. Instead, they were looking to me, with hope in their eyes, as if I had the answer to life’s most important question.

I looked at the teen and said the only thing that I could, “Do whatever you need to do to get through this time in your life. Keep praying. Mark a calendar of days until the end of the school year. Change a class to get away from the person. Double down and focus on your school work. Do yoga. Take a martial arts class. Do whatever you need to get through it because, I promise, when it is over…and I promise, it will come to an end…you will be making history and the bully won’t even be remembered. I promise you: God shines a light, even in this dark place. Plus, when it is all done you will have better accomplishments to put on your resume than, ‘I beat up someone weaker than me.’”

I realize that it was not a solution for the teen, but it was hope. It was the same hope found in the Gospel of John. It was a light that shined in the darkness, and I am happy to tell you that the darkness did not overcome that light.

The teen is now an adult who is happily married, with two children, heading up a military support group for spouses who have lost loved ones in our multiple battlefronts. I am glad to see that the light Christ ignited in her was never blown out, and so are a lot of other people who are deep in the throes of grief.

Why is Jesus important to me? It is not because he shows me how to live a good life, through there is a little of that. It is not because I think He will be like Santa and shower me with gifts of wealth and prosperity, I could not care less about that.

No, the reason Jesus is important to me is that when I look at Jesus, I see God. I see a God, who cared enough about the world to come, in the flesh, just so that we might see clearly God's love for us and to reveal clearly to us what God cares about.

Sure, God gave us the 10 commandments, and that helps to show us God’s will also, but the 10 commandments do not tell us the whole story.

They do not show us God’s mercy. They do not show us how much God cares. They do not show us that God is willing to go as far as to come into our dark world, live and love among even the worst of us, forgiving us in the process, go to a cross and die a very grisly death, and then rise again. Jesus did not need to do any of that, but he did.

“A light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

Why is Jesus important to me? Because Jesus is that light that cannot be snuffed out. Jesus is that light that cannot be overcome by darkness. Jesus is the word made flesh through whom all things were made in the beginning, and through whom all new life can come.

Jesus is the hope to which we cling when the bullies of the world seem to have the upper hand. In him, we clearly see that there will always be new life...there will always be a light in the dark. That is why Jesus is important to me.

You see, it is easy to get stuck in the dark. Just turn on a 24 hour news station in order to see the state of the world, and you will plunge headfirst into the dark depths. What about terrorism? Is there an end to the violence? The darkness.

But, we do not have to turn on CNN or Fox News to find the darkness. People ask, “What about my inability to get healthy? I keep eating the wrong things, even though I know I shouldn’t. Twinkies are great! Will I never be able to be whole?” The darkness.

Others ask, What about my depression? Will the crying every…single…night of the week stay forever?” The darkness.

Others ask in confirmation class, “What about the bullies? Will I always be at the bottom of life?” The darkness.

To all of that I say, a light shine in the darkness, and things can change…even terrorism…even your own self-worth…even depression…even bullies.

Look, Jesus is the one who showed us that when you have run out of wine for your wedding guests, water can be turned into fine wine. God can change things.

Jesus is the one who touches a paralytic and shows us that a sick body does not have to define who you are; a sick body is not the last word. God can change things.

Jesus is the one who cares for well over 5000 people just to show that even hunger does not stay forever. God can change things.

Jesus is the one who shows us that blindness need not be permanent. Maybe there is some hope for our politicians after-all! God can change things.

Heck, even a dead guy who was rotting in the tomb for a while is unwrapped and given another chance to live and love. In Lazarus we see a hint of the fact that even death cannot hold the author of life down. God can change things.

Why is Jesus important to me? Because, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

Jesus in important to us because in him we see that the reality that is today need not be the reality of tomorrow. Jesus can always create something new.

I have to admit, this is sometimes hard to trust. The darkness can seem so oppressive. And, I also have to admit that for me, this hope is sometimes no more than a flicker of light in a dark room. But, here's the thing. Once that light is lit, no matter how dark the room, no matter how small the light, the light still baths you with its flicker. The people who lived in darkness have seen a great light, and that hope is a gift of God especially for those in the dark places.

Reflection on Luke 2:41-52

The girl just showed up in the church one day. The Pastor had gone into the sanctuary to place her sermon in the pulpit, and there the girl was, just lying on her back in one of the pews, moving her hands slowly through the air…apparently listening to some music.

“Can I help you?” the pastor asked the girl. She had red hair and looked to be about 13.

“No, I’m fine,” the girl replied, continuing to listen to her music.

The pastor just stared at her for a second, but the girl did not budge or give any sign that the conversation was going to go any further. It certainly was not against the law for someone to hang out in the sanctuary of a church. The doors were open while the parish secretary was in the office. And, once or twice the pastor had seen an old woman in the sanctuary praying, but this was completely new.

“Just so you know, we will be locking up in about 45 minutes.”

“I know, the hours are on your door. Thank you.”

And, that was that. The girl remained until it was time to lock the doors. She smiled politely and went on her way as the pastor and the secretary also went out the door.

“Well, that was a strange day,” the pastor thought.

But, the strange day became a strange week when the teen was found in the sanctuary following school during the subsequent days. The redhead was still lying in the pews, but she chose a different pew each day…trying to get a different perspective of the place the pastor supposed. Friday came and the pastor decided to have a talk with the girl.

“You are more than welcome to come here; I just want to say that right away. But, quite frankly, no one comes here during the week. Why did you start coming?”

The teen looked at the pastor and then at the ceiling again. “I don’t have anything else to do. My parents are working, and don’t pay any attention to me anyway, and my friends are all in sports.”

There were all kinds of places the teen could have gone after school that were much more exciting, the mall, the library, the pet store downtown…any number of places with other people to interact with.

“So, what made you think to come here?” the pastor inquired.

“God,” the teen replied simply. “I think that God needs to get to know me a little, so I came to His house.”

How could you argue with that logic? The redhead sparked the story of the young Jesus in the pastor’s mind. When Jesus was 12, his devout family journeyed to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. On the way home from the festivities, Jesus’ parents searched among the large extended family, but Jesus was nowhere to be found. Where they did find Jesus eventually (after three days) was in the temple talking with the teachers.

“Jesus where have you been? We have been worried sick!” Mary and Joseph exclaimed.

But, Jesus simply replied, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?"

There were some obvious differences between Jesus and the girl, beyond gender, of course. Jesus’ parents cared enough to desperately search for him. Apparently, the redheaded girl’s parents did not. Jesus was engaged deeply in conversation with the teachers in the temple, answering their questions to astonishment. This girl simply laid on the pews with apparently little knowledge of God.

But, one thing was the same: they both wanted to be close to God the Father. They both wanted to be in their heavenly Father’s home. Jesus felt at home in the temple, and with her feet hanging over the edge of the pew, apparently so did the teen.

With that realization, the pastor felt something strange: she felt jealous of the girl. The redheaded girl's desire to know God was so pure. Her certainty that God would just show up at some point was so…just so…well, full of faith.

How many years had it been since she took the time to sit patiently, expecting the Lord to come to her? Pastors get caught up in the daily grind as much as any other person. The Pastor suddenly wished that she had that sort of pure desire…that sort of pure faith that God would show up for her. Maybe, God could show up for the girl.

“Jesus is here you know. Well, through the Holy Spirit Jesus is lots of places, but Jesus is here too,” the pastor began to teach.

“I know. That's why I'm waiting.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that we can hear Jesus’ voice if we just crack open the bible. I’m willing to read it with you if you want. Can we do that together?”

“Sure, why not. It beats staring at the ceiling. You know, you have a boring ceiling pastor.”

So, they cracked open the bible together. The pastor had the perfect story to begin with. It was the story of a boy lost from his parents, who found his heavenly Father. The pastor hoped that the teen would find hers also. And, she did.

Or rather, her heavenly Father came looking for her, and she was found.

Reflection on Luke 2:1-20

She held the words close, just the same as she snuggled the baby close. We hear her actions described as “ponder.” Mary “pondered” these things in her heart; as if she were pondering whether to take a Mylanta for her heartburn or not.

But, it was so much more than pondering. It was much deeper than simply thinking about what she had heard. She held the words of the shepherds so close it seemed as if she desired to be one with those words. And maybe she did. After-all, the words that promise something wonderful “for you” are the sort of words that can change your life.

It is one thing to say, “Jesus came to the world to save it.” We hold general theological proclamations such as that as dearly as we hold the words “I’m loving it” as you bite into a paper thin McDonald’s sandwich patty. But, some words do catch us and do have the power to shape us.

Therefore, it is quite another thing to say, “God decided to come to the world for you." “Jesus brought forgiveness for you.” “The body of Christ given for you.” These are words that we can cherish…and we do.

So, the promise of the angel that the shepherds excitedly recited to Mary, “Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you” she treasured these words and held them close. God had not only come to her, through her even, but also for her. God has not only come to the world, but has also come for you.

These words are a gift that you put into little box next to your heart. But, it is not the kind of box that you lock up to keep safe. In fact, you want to peek inside and enjoy the promise that the box contains.

It is like when the child of a soldier finds out his parent is coming home from oversees for Christmas. As that child, you would hold tight onto that sort of promise for all its worth. And, when you felt lonely, you would peek inside from time to time, refreshing your soul with the hope of seeing your parent once again. But, God’s promise is so much more than that.

It is like the girl on the sidelines of the dance floor who has no date, but heard from a friend that the guy she has a crush on is going to sweep her onto the dance floor. You would hold close that sort of promise, peeking in from time to time until he actually came and held out his hand. But, God’s promise is so much more than that.

The words that Mary holds close are the ones that promise that the very power that spoke us into existence is coming home, in the flesh, "for you"…to be with you.

Bill was your typical hard worker on the maintenance crew. He had a huge bushy beard, a couple teeth were missing, and he was able to fix anything with some putty and duct tape. He was a great guy. He would have a beer or two or three to support an ailing friend at their benefit which was always held at the bar. He was a guy’s guy.

One year I invited Bill to church on Christmas Eve. “Come on, it is a beautiful service in a great church with great people.”

Stroking his beard he replied, “Thank you very much, but I’m sure a guy like me doesn’t belong there.”

We were silent for a while, except for the sound of our paint scrapers: metal on wood. Then I decided to share something someone had once told me, “You know Bill…the shepherds were just cheap labor like us. No one cared about them. They weren’t welcome in the fine establishments of their time. But, God sent an angel just for them…just to tell them about the Savior of the world. Christmas Eve services are for people like us Bill.”

“For us you say?”

“For us. Even for you Bill.”

“Well, that was probably one of the best invitations I’ve ever heard,” Bill said with an honest smile.

For you.

Jesus does not wake up in the morning and put on some flesh just so he can come down and punish us or seek vengeance for the missteps we’ve all certainly taken throughout our lives. If he had intended that, he would have come as a mighty warrior or a heartless governor. Instead, he came as a baby. Someone we can hold close…someone who is for us…someone who is for you.

Those words seem awfully familiar: “for you.”

When we gather at the table we hear that the bread and the wine (and the forgiveness and the heavenly love that the wine and bread hold) are “for you.” "The body of Christ given for you.” "The blood of Christ shed for you.”

In a world full of darkness where we fear the future and often feel alone, we hold close these words, “for you” in a small box close to our hearts.

It is not locked because we need to open it up and take a look whenever the darkness appears to be too much. We open it and hear the words, “I have come for you” echoing out.

It is a promise to give us hope and give us confidence to take a step forward into the future, even if the future seems dark.

It is also the promise that binds us to one another because we all hold the same words close to our hearts.

Jesus is the joy of all people. He is God with us. He is love come close to each of us. He is the one who gives us hope. Heavenly joy and hope come to the world through Jesus. That means, Jesus also comes “for you,” and I tend to think that is a pretty good Christmas gift.

Reflection on Luke 3:7-18

“You den of writhing snakes, who told you to come to church? Who told you to confess your sins? Who told you to come here and seek forgiveness?”

The disheveled man, wearing skins that only cover the…um…necessities, interrupts the pastor’s sermon and slowly moves up the aisle of the church, yelling as he goes.

“If you are forgiven,” he continues shouting, “then I better see some proof of it in what you do. If you are a precious tree planted by God, then I better see that you are handing out some sweet juicy fruit to those around you.

Stopping by the baptismal font, the man challenges those who are listening…and believe me…all are listening; “Don’t start to say to me, ‘Hold on sir, we are baptized, we are saved, we are God’s people.’

Enough! Hypocrites! If you presume to be a tree, drinking from these waters of life, then you better show it in what you do! God does not need to keep you around. God does so right now as a gift. But, make no mistake, God can baptize the stones of this church and make them God’s holy people if God so chooses. So, hear me clearly,” he shouts as if no one could hear his shouting in the small little box of a church, “An ax is ready to swing at your feet.”

And, with that, the man pulls out a full sized ax and raises it high. A woman gasps and grabs her child. You wonder, “The man’s wearing a loin cloth, where the heck did he pull that from?” The pastor thinks, “Man that was effective, I wish I had thought of whipping out an ax.” The pastor turns away to write a note for himself for future reference (“Bring ax, hide in pulpit”).

For a moment, as the pastor scribbles, there is a tense silence in the church. The man holds the ax high over one shoulder…ready to strike; the congregation stares awkwardly at him…refusing to move. The mother covers and protects her child. The usher contemplates reaching for his cell phone and calling the police. The Boy Scout ponders on how a well tied knot might help in this situation. The husband that was dragged along to church wonders what the score of the game is. But, the most sensible person in the place spoke up (the one who was actually listening to what the man was saying and taking it seriously because he had not yet learned to ignore whatever is said in church). He was a 13 year old boy.

He says, “Are you just going to stand there like a dork with an ax, or are you going to tell us what we need to do? What should we do?”

The congregation stares at the teen, and then stares at the disheveled, half clothed man who smiles and slowly lowers his ax. “Your fruits are ripe,” he says, continuing to smile at the boy. “Do you have more than one coat in your closet at home?”

“If you needed a coat sir, all you would have had to do was ask,” the teen replied.

“Shut up!” the man shouts. “Answer the question, do you have more than one coat?”

“Yes, of course” the teen replied.

“Good, then take your extra one of school, give it to the front desk and tell them to give it to someone who needs one this winter.”

“Really, that’s it? That warranted an ax?” the teen asked.

“The coat is still in your closet is it not? It’s serving no purpose right now is it not? It could be keeping someone who is struggling warm, could it not? You hadn’t thought to do it before now, correct?”

“Correct sir.”

“Then I guess you needed an ax,” the man replied.

Seeing how the teenager had not died when talking to the man, the local grocery store owner decided to give it a go. “Tell me then, what must I do?”

“Don’t charge more than what you and your employees need to live. You shouldn’t be getting rich by selling people what they need to survive.”

“Can’t I just give away a coat like the boy?” the man asks quietly.

The disheveled man raises the ax that yells at the top of his lungs, “Do both!”

“Ok, Ok, Ok, I got it, won’t try to get rich off of the poor,” the man said stepping back.

It was true, sometimes it does take an ax before people will even consider acting reasonably toward their neighbors. Why should that be the case?

It was at that moment that the police officer at the door asked “What should I be doing?”

The exasperated usher, who had placed the call without the crazy man knowing, thought to himself, “I know exactly what you should be doing right now!”

But, the police officer had not drawn his gun. He had been listening, and he honestly wanted to know.

“Don’t bribe anyone. Don’t threaten anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Just protect and serve. Just do your job and do it honestly. Do your job as if God cared what you were doing.”

Then the disheveled man with the ax faced the entire crowd and said, “Just go about your life and do your job as if God cares, because God does. God cares about everyone you run into. God cares about everyone you deal with. God cares. Jesus died for all of them also.

If any part of you at all doesn’t care, then let God cut that part off. Or, better yet, let Christ burn that part away like a refiner burns away the impurities or a farmer burns away the chaff. Or even better yet, if you are baptized, let Christ drown the part of you that doesn’t care.

Don't forget, you are a tree planted by God. You are a tree fed by the waters of forgiveness from Christ found in this font. Your fruit is good to eat...it is full of grace. Let others eat of your good fruit.”

And with that, he laid the ax at the base of the font and walked out of the door. The pastor got done scribbling his sermon idea and asked, “What did I miss?” When you have a chance, you tell him.

Reflection on John 18:33-37

I need a little refuge this week. Have you ever had one of those weeks where the world is just too much? Well, that week happened for me.

This week I was upset. I was upset by the deaths that Muslim extremists cause the world.

That should have been enough to ruin one’s entire week, then I went on social media. And, what you find on social media is probably the same thing you find when you go get coffee at the diner…you find hatred and calls for more violence.

There’s the “just blow them all up crowd.” There’s the “well, how about I just blow you up” crowd in reaction to the “just blow them all up crowd.”

There’s the call to hate all Syrian refugees. There’s the call to hate all the people who are calling to hate all Syrian refugees.

Then there was an unsolicited little tidbit of love from an acquaintance in high school that I have not talked to face-to-face in 22 years that popped up in my email out of the blue in reaction to Muslims who publicly denounced the terrorist attacks in Paris. The nature of the email stated that they do not believe Muslims who denounce violence. Instead, they believe that these Muslims are simply trying to soften our hearts so that they can get near us in order to attack again.

I can basically sum up the entire week in one word, “violence.” It is all about violence, and I need refuge from it. You probably do also. But look what I have done here; I have just brought all of this violence into this hollowed conversation. Sorry.

You know what I want? World peace. OK, now that I have gotten my beauty pageant moment out of the way, what I actually want are leaders who do not focus on violence. What I desire is to have a kingdom where hatred and violence are not the first option. A kingdom where hatred and violence are not the first reaction. Rather, I want a kingdom where they are consider last option, if considered at all.

And, so I have found a place of refuge this week. It is not in a deserted cabin in the woods…though I wish I had one of those…with a little pond to fish in. Nor, is it being raptured away from all of the evil of the world.

Rather, my place of refuge has been this bible verse from the gospel of John. It is the exchange between Pilate and Jesus before he is sentenced to death.

Pilate asked Jesus, "Are you the King of the Jews?"

Jesus answered, "Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?"

Pilate replied, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?"

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

Basically, Jesus says, if my kingdom were a regular sort of kingdom, the kind you find throughout the world, people would be engaged in violence right now to free me from my chains. But, my kingdom is not a regular sort of kingdom. No violence allowed.

I know it feels like sort of a pipe dream in the reality that is our world, but can we just take a moment and savor the idea that God’s kingdom does not include violence. It is the sort of refuge we seek where “Christ will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

But, it is more than a distant future in a distant life far, far away from here. Notice that Jesus makes these claims while still here in this world. He renounces his claim to violence right before he encounters the terror of the cross.

Jesus would rather suffer for the sake of a murderous world than to bring more violence to it. Hear that again, Jesus would rather suffer for the sake of a murderous world than to bring more violence to it.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. understood this kingdom well when he talked about violence.

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,

begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.

Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.

Through violence you may murder the liar,

but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.

Through violence you may murder the hater,

but you do not murder hate.

In fact, violence merely increases hate.

So it goes.

Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,

adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness:

only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Once upon a time, while seated on the throne, a king was brought two criminals. The first came to the king with guilt in his eyes.

“Why have they brought you here to stand before me?” the king asked.

“My family was hungry, and I stole some royal food from your banquet” answered the poor man.

“You know that stealing is against one of the great commandments of God. All evil stops here. You deserve to be lashed with the whip.”

The king then turned to the second criminal.

“And, why have they brought you here to stand before me?”

“Sir, my neighbor killed my father, so I killed him as repayment for my father. And, then his son attacked me, so I killed him also.”

“You know that murder is against one of the great commandments of God. You have taken two lives. You deserve to die. The violence stops here!” the King declared.

And with that, the criminals were taken from the king’s presence, walked through the halls of the castle, brought through the front doors of the castle, were unbound and set free.

The criminals were utterly confused and looked at each other. At that very moment, they heard a squire shouting a royal edict from behind the walls of the castle.

“On the count of theft from the royal estate, lashes shall be the punishment.”

The two scrambled to climb the castle wall, and peer over its edge. When they had finally had made their way to the top stone, they peered over the edge seeing a bloodied man walking toward a gallows.

The squire cried out again, “On two counts of murder, the accused shall be put to death.”

How was it they had escaped punishment, but this man had not? Had he done worse than they? Was this king unfair, judging some and not others?

As the rope was placed over the accused head, his face turned their direction.

The face of the king peered back at them. It was only then that they understood. The king had said, “All violence stops here." And so it did. They just did not realize that the king was talking about himself…the violence stops here…the violence stops with myself.

The king clearly mouthed these words, staring across the distance right at them, “Now go and love.” And, with that, the platform dropped and it was over.

In the kingdom of the cross, violence does not multiply violence and hate does not spawn more hate. On the cross, all of our violence is put to death. All violence stops with Christ. In Jesus’ kingdom, violence is dead. It is not an option. And when violence is dead, only love remains. That is the kingdom we live in O people of God.