The Coming King

The death of Jesus on the cross is utterly confounding; affronting our sensibilities of justice. How can this bloody mess of a man be our conquering king? How can this victimized, brutalized plebeian be our savior? But he is. Wholly and completely. And the universe bows to him.

This was not what was expected. 400 years of the silence of God was endured for greater things than this! Surely the journey of the Children of God would climax with triumph at last and with victory over their oppressors. Where is their conquering king? Where is their righteous reckoning?

And what of us today? We wait and long for things to be made right. This isn’t how it is supposed to be. Death and sorrow, hate and betrayal are defining characteristics of our day and age. Where is our righteous reckoning?

Just like the Jews of the Old Testament, we look toward the return of the King with hopes that the Lion of Judah will stride in with his judgments and pronounce to all those deserving of wrath their sentence. The putting of all things to rights is what we are eager to see. But why do we think our story will be different from the Jews’ story? Why do we think the second coming of Jesus will be a fiery, wrath-filled, venge-fest where old scores are finally settled once and for all? Isn’t that the same hope the Jews had? Weren’t they disappointed?

Our thinking is evident when we hear someone say they had a “come-to-Jesus” talk with their neighbor and we know by these words they mean a scolding took place to set the offender straight. A “come-to-Jesus” talk is one where the veils and gloves come off, and hard words are spoken, often harshly, but somehow it’s still done “in love.” Maybe. How is it that we’ve come to see Jesus this way? 

We love the story where Jesus turned over the tables in the Temple. We imagine rage taking over and furniture and coins flying. We picture this as a small scale fiery, wrath-filled, venge-fest and imagine how yummy it will taste when Jesus really lets it loose at the end of time. “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, ‘says the Lord,’” after all and we can’t wait.

But I have a feeling that what we will see isn’t going to quench that thirst in us. If what we expect is like what the Jews hoped for, I think we are going to be sorely disappointed.

In the book of Revelation we see the story of surprise unfold before John’s eyes: “Then one of the elders said to me, ‘Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah….’ Then I saw a Lamb who had been slain, standing in the center of the throne” (Rev. 5:5-6).

Imagine the shock of seeing a lamb where a lion is expected. And not just a lamb, but a slain lamb. Isn’t that what happened on the cross? Isn’t that what happened with the Jews when they expected a conquering king but instead got a dead man on a cross? How is this kind of ending supposed to “put things to rights?” Where is our righteous reckoning? How can a slain lamb seated on the throne of ultimate power be right?

The message Jesus brought to us was a backward one: one where the last will be first, where we are to love our enemies and not hate them, and where we are broken so we can become whole. He communicated this counter-world message in his words and with his life.

He died even when he told us he is life.

He lived even when death took him.

So, if we are following the ways of Jesus it would seem there is something not quite right in our desire to see the wrath of God fall hard on those we deem unworthy. That longing for the Father to be the great punisher is evidence to something: it evidences our pain. It shows our need to self-protect. And it sorely reveals the fallen nature of this world.

But self-protection isn’t wholly a bad thing. The reason we go into that mode is that we have an innate comprehension that we are of value – that we are worth protecting. And we are. We carry the Imago Dei, having been made in his image. Each one of us is of tremendous value and worth. The actions we do to protect ourselves stem from this innate comprehension. The wife who manipulates to get her way; the child who hits his little brother; and the addict who shoots up to soothe her anxiety are all acting from this position of protecting the self; protecting the Imago Dei within.

Even the suicide victim is shielding the self from further pain… ironically because the self is worth protecting.

The desire to see others punished for their ill deeds comes from the same place. When the rules of society or the mores of our community are broken, questioned, or threatened by someone’s behavior, or even by their beliefs, our safety feels uncertain. Perhaps not so directly or overtly that we recognize it as such, but our brains perceive that there is a threat and that’s when our limbic system lights up. We feel the need to fight or flee. We turn the “offender” into an enemy and we feel the need for them to be conquered, because, once again, we are protecting the valued self.

In the end times, we will become lovers of self, perhaps because we live in fear that there are none out there who will love us, protect us, and defend us if we don’t do it ourselves. Our sin comes from a place of desperate need.

Our world has been turned upside down, and Jesus came to set it back in place. I would go so far as to say Jesus came to set our understanding of who the Father is back in place, as well. What we so greatly desire is to know and believe that we are loved, valued, and are safe, but our picture of God, of Jesus, and of the universe is so altered from what it was intended to be that we have lost our sense of security and well-being. We have wandered so far from the Garden to the point that we expect the coming of the Messiah to be a political, war-filled, oppressor-subduing kind of event. Instead, we will see a Lamb.

Our hearts desperately need the Lamb. A conquering king who comes to slay our enemies will not mend our pains and sorrows. Revenge never heals. Only grace and love bring life. Jesus' sacrifice for us was the ultimate demonstration of love.

The return of the King will be a glorious, wonderful thing. And it will very likely shock us to our core and bend us at our knees. The magnitude of his love will finally convince our fear-filled hearts and brains that we belong, that we are safe, that we are of tremendous value, and of course, that we are loved. Upside down will be right-side-up, the cross will no longer confound, and the Lamb who was slain will sit in his throne… and we will know that it is just as it should be.