What comes to mind when you think of Kingdom? A monarchy, an all-powerful king or queen. Castles and guards and strong walls of protection. Separation from the working people. Infinite wealth: money, jewels, crowns, heirlooms, priceless art, entire lands under one authority.
All of these simple examples and so many more are precisely what humanity has understood “kingdom” to mean. For millenia, humankind has been accustomed to sources of power that segregates the rulers from the peasants, that forces the masses to submit to the will of the ruler of the day.
The problem of power is nothing new. Whether we’re talking about the cycle of upright and evil kings who ruled over ancient Israel or the modern-day variations of government, our human construct of power continues to fall short of “good news.”
The prophetic text we read on this third Sunday of Advent from Isaiah 61 paints a very different portrait of a kingdom.
The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me
Isaiah 61:1-4 The Message
because God anointed me.
He sent me to preach good news to the poor,
heal the heartbroken,
Announce freedom to all captives,
pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of his grace—
a celebration of God’s destruction of our enemies—
and to comfort all who mourn,
To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion,
give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes,
Messages of joy instead of news of doom,
a praising heart instead of a languid spirit.
Rename them “Oaks of Righteousness”
planted by God to display his glory.
They’ll rebuild the old ruins,
raise a new city out of the wreckage.
They’ll start over on the ruined cities,
take the rubble left behind and make it new.
In this Kingdom, there is a leader being commissioned to bring good news to the oppressed. What would sound like good news to the people we know who are dealing with poverty from a place of powerlessness? Would good news look like sincere eye contact and a genuine listening ear? Would it look like discovering the uniquely brilliant gifts this person has to offer the world and finding a place for them to contribute? Would it look like welcome and belonging?
In this Kingdom, the one in charge will work to bind up the broken-hearted. How many modern-day kings or presidents or prime ministers can you think of who genuinely care about the sadness of a single person living in their land? What would it look like to have a leader who not only cares for one heartbroken person, but for the disappointment and loss and grief of every single person under their authority? And doesn’t stop there, but begins to find help for each one of them, counselors, friends, spiritual directors, neighbors, orchestrating a whole support system for those suffering internal wounds.
What would it look like to have a King who proclaims liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners? Say what, now?! Yeah, Isaiah prophecies that in this Kingdom, the one in charge is declaring pardon for all who have done wrong and insisting that every person held against their will in unsafe homes or workplaces be freed. I can’t assume to understand exactly what this would look like, because of course there are people in the world who only seek to hurt and harm others. But maybe if we can set aside our perception of the world and use our imaginations to enter into this alternative Kingdom, we begin to see that this ruler isn’t releasing people into chaos and unsafety. Remember that this ruler knows each member of the Kingdom, their gifts and their brokenness and wants to bring each one healing and wholeness. This ruler sets out to show love to the most despised, the most reviled criminal and restore them to the fullness of their design. Crazy, right?
Friends, it’s obvious that this Kingdom, God’s Kingdom, is completely contrary to our understanding of leadership and power. It’s hard, impossible really, for us to wrap our minds around the ways God has and will continue to bring his Kingdom to earth as it is in heaven.
Henri Nouwen, one of my beloved pastor-authors, writes,
It is hard to believe that God would reveal his divine presence to us in the self-emptying, humble way of the man from Nazareth. So much in me seeks influence, power, success, and popularity. But the way of Jesus is the way of hiddenness, powerlessness, and littleness. It does not seem a very appealing way. Yet when I enter into true, deep communion with Jesus, I will find that it is this small way that leads to real peace and joy.
read on HenriNouwen.org
When Jesus put on flesh and made his dwelling among us, he willingly stepped down from the throne of authority and crossed the lift-bridge that kept the commoners separated from the royalty. As Scripture says in John 1:14:
The Word became flesh and blood,
and moved into the neighborhood. *
Jesus, God-incarnate, came and lived among us, no boundaries or barriers or separation. Jesus experienced pain and loss, friendship and laughter, sickness and death, just as we do. Jesus came to us in the smallest and most vulnerable forms, a newborn baby with complete reliance on others. God’s physical presence among us wasn’t clothed in royalty and crowned with obvious authority. Jesus’ birth ushered in a new way of life. Jesus invites us to participate with him in this work of building a new Kingdom, a Kingdom that sets aside influence and power and success and popularity, and instead seeks to serve and work alongside and delight in the small gifts of life. I believe Nouwen hit the nail on the head when he describes the fruit, the results of a life lived in step with Jesus: real peace and joy.
As we move through this season of waiting and anticipation for Jesus to be born in us today, I urge you to spend time considering your perceptions of power. In what ways do you seek power and prestige yourself? How do you view punishment and treatment of the poor? What do you believe the role of authorities should be? And in all of that pondering, be asking God’s Spirit to reshape your mind into a Kingdom perspective. If you desire to follow the way of Jesus, ask God to show you what perspectives and ideas you might need to change or let go of all together.
May these words become our hope and our prayer as we move through the days and weeks ahead:
Truly he taught us to love one another;
Verse 3 of O, Holy Night
His law is love and his gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
