One True Tune--November 22, 2024

One True Tune--November 22, 2024

Jesus answered [Pontius Pilate], “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.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice." [John 18:36-37]

It is, for my money, one of the best scenes ever committed to celluloid, and it doesn't even need the benefit of color film.  And, at least in my personal theology, it is one of the most important depictions of the Reign of God amid the competing powers of the day.

It's the moment, about three-quarters of the way through 1942's Casablanca, when Resistance leader Victor Laszlo commandeers the house band at Rick's Cafe and gets them to play La Marseillaise, the French national anthem, to drown out the sound of the occupying German officers of the Reich who are belting out a triumphalist war song about the "Fatherland."  You don't have to know the words of La Marseillaise or speak a lick of French to see what is happening.  The German conquerors start out cocky and overconfident, using their song as a way of rubbing their power in the faces of all the people they have dominated. But as the French anthem continues, more and more of the people in the bar stand up and sing with Laszlo and the band, pointing to a different allegiance from the Fuhrer and a different regime from the Reich.  They continue to sing, entirely unarmed and without making a threat, tears streaming down their faces, and the longing for a free France coursing through their veins.  And by the end of a single verse--just two minutes of time on screen--the Germans are silenced and put in their place.  They have been exposed as usurpers, as frauds, and as mere bullies, rather than the rightful rulers--and in that span of one-hundred-twenty seconds, the people in Rick's Cafe reveal that they are no longer afraid of their would-be overlords. The false rule of the Reich has been exposed as a sham, simply with the power of one true tune, even while they think they have won the day.

Something like that is what happens in this exchange between Jesus and the Roman-appointed governor, Pilate, in the eighteenth chapter of John's gospel.  In fact, something like that is what all of Christian life is like, in a sense.  But what strikes me in this scene between the arrested rabbi and the imperial spokesperson is that Jesus points to a different reign--in fact, a different kind of reign altogether from Rome's imperial iron fist--and exposes Rome as grasping at an illusion, all without Jesus having to pick up a sword or raise a fist.  He points to an alternative regime and simply testifies to the reality of God's Reign, right under the nose of Caesar and his minion.  It's rather like the Resistance Leader with the band showing the German officers that they have not intimidated everyone the way they think they have, just with the gesture of a song sung in protest of the powers of the day.

Jesus' way of describing his purpose in the world is simply "to testify to the truth." Pilate, who can only see the world in terms of conquerors and the conquered, wants to fit Jesus into his mold of being a king like Caesar is.  And Jesus simply hasn't come to be that, because that's not how God rules the world.  God isn't a bully or a tyrant.  God is not so insecure as to need to intimidate, mock, or terrify people in order to feel "big." And God does not need to resort to cruelty, torture, or a war machine in order to reign.  Jesus simply trusts that the way God reigns is better than the Empire's way, and so all he needs to do is to witness to the truth: God is really the One who gets the last word, not Caesar, and God doesn't need follow the Empire's playbook in order to accomplish God's purposes. While Pilate and his cohort belt out war-songs of "eternal Rome," Jesus simply sings a true tune whose very existence unmasks that Rome isn't the be-all, end-all.

And as I say, I want to suggest that something like this is how the entire Christian community is meant to live in the world. We aren't here to replace Rome's intimidation tactics with a new set of our own.  We aren't here to set up an empire in the name of Jesus (or, in the modern phrasing, "take back our country for God" or "save America") the way Pilate would have. We are here, as in Jesus' example, "to testify to the truth."  We sing a different song with our lives.  We point to a different way of doing things--God's way--and a different kind of community; namely, the Beloved Community.   And no matter how loud the powers of the day try and shout, we witness to their inadequacy by the mere fact of our not going along with their noise.  

Singing a different song--a true tune rather than a false one--is by itself evidence of God's authentic reign and of the falsity and ultimate hollowness of every tyrant, empire, bully, and dictator.  We don't have to sell our souls out to a political party in order to win influence to make God's reign happen. We don't have to get enough money or church members or followers on social media to make the Kingdom come.  We simply sing a different song with our lives--the anthem of our true homeland, so to speak--and by our singing it, we witness to God's Reign and "testify to the truth." 

Every time we choose Christ-like mercy rather than Caesar's bullying, we testify to the truth.  

Every time we lift up the lowly rather than stepping on them to climb up highter, we testify to the truth.

Every time we refuse to accept the Empire's way of valuing people by their wealth or power or status or belonging to our group, and instead treat all people as of infinite worth because they are made in God's image, we testify to the truth.

And every time we say "No" to Caesar's "Me and My Group First" way of thinking by saying "Yes" to Jesus' love for all person, we are testifying to the truth of how the living God runs the universe.

Each morning the world asks us which song we'll sing along with.  Today--and then every day afterward--let us sing the song of our true commonwealth, to which our ultimate citizenship and our authentic allegiance belongs.  Let us sing a true tune of the Reign of God--like Jesus does.

Lord Jesus, teach us to sing your song and to testify to your truth with our lives.