This weekend was Flag Day in the U.S. It was a day the current president decided to have a huge military parade, ostensibly to honor the 250th anniversary of the US Army. It also happened to be his birthday. And millions of people in virtually every major city in the U.S. held #NoKings protests.
Many among the faithful protestors held up signs and posted online slogans like “No King But Jesus.” And, cranky old man that I pretend not to be, it just didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t want to say or write anything yesterday and distract from the successful protest turn-outs.
But in my head I kept hearing the words “Jesus is not King” or “Jesus does not want to be your King.”
That’s kind of revolutionary for a former evangelical.
In the old days, I would vehemently defend the “Jesus is our King” mantra. I’d point to numerous Scripture passages that refer to God as King, to Jesus as Lord and soon-coming King. We’d sing those words regularly in Sunday worship: “All hail King Jesus, all hail Emmanuel. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, bright Morning Star.” And I accept that as a genuine expression of heart devotion toward God and toward Jesus. No question there.
But is that how Jesus *wants* us to view him? Is that how God wants to be understood?
Yes, Scripture does use those titles. But I read Scripture differently these days than I did in my youth. I now tend to see Scripture as Spirit-inspired conversations across the millennia about our understanding of God. So what is written, how God is described, is how humans best understood God, the best images to help us get closer to this Undefinable Source of Reality — the Holy Mystery of Love, as my current church leaders address God in prayer. And that image is always evolving.
Because honestly, we humans tend to read through the lens of our personal experience. We interpret texts, especially holy texts, from our current understanding, our current situation in life. And my experience of God in life has not been one of an Absolute Ruler, or King. Has yours?
Does God treat us as King? Does he compel us to bow the knee, to submit or else? Doesn’t this defy the loving image of God that most of us carry in our hearts? Doesn’t this conflict with the image of the Lamb, slain before the foundation of the world? Of the loving father waiting for the return of the prodigal?
Does God get his way in this life? A quick look at history proves that God does not act like King. He acts more as the Loving Goad, the One who gently prods and guides us toward right living and loving. Otherwise we wouldn’t have a millennia-long record of human atrocity. We wouldn’t have the perennial question of the “problem of evil” in the world: “why does God allow tragedy to happen?” If God were absolute monarch, ruler of all — at least in the way we tend to superficially understand that idea — none of this would be happening.
Perhaps God is King in the sense of that inevitable long arc of the moral universe, bending toward justice. That, in the end, all will be made right. That all will be healed, restored, in the end, and that humanity’s inhumanity toward each other and the planet will not be the final word.
I can sing the worship songs with that image in mind — that God ultimately heals and restores all to perfect wholeness. God has the final say in the universe, even if he does not impose his will on a day to day basis. His “rule” is more a consistent, persistent, loving influence. Gently guiding. Gently prompting. Always welcoming. Never violating our stubborn right to do as we want.
Recently a new image of God has lodged itself in my mind. Not merely the Great Moral Influence, but as the lead singer in a band that invites us all to dance and join in the song. It is a more playful image. An inviting one, not an imposing one.
Like that famous scene in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” when Ferris jumps on a parade float, grabs a mic, and starts singing. First “Danke Schoen,” grabbing our attention, and then “Twist and Shout,” sucking us all up into the energy and vitality, making us want to join in the song, dancing alone and in unison together — in one big joyful party. Here, God is inviting us to join in the great celebration of life. Not even as a band leader or conductor, imposing his creative vision on us; but as the lead singer, singing his heart out, enjoying himself in the beautiful chaos of it all, and inviting us to sing and dance along. (Check out that scene from the movie…)
It is a radically different view of God than I grew up with, than most of the evangelical world today believes in. And it shows. It shows in how those deeply-religious people live their lives — and how they try to impose their way on everyone else.
God is not Ceasar. God is not Mussolini or Hitler. God is not even President Obama, and certainly not the current occupant of the White House. God may well have the final word in history — and I hope he does — a word of compassion, restoration, healing and blessing for all. Of Love winning.
For now, though, even in the middle of all the turmoil going on in the world and the crises in our personal lives, I see God there jumping on the parade float, singing wildly into the mic, and inviting us into the big, beautiful, choreography of “Shake it up, baby now. Twist and shout! Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now. Come on and work it on out …”
Like the ending in the biblical book of Job, it does not answer all our questions. It merely points at the beauty of the world, the cosmos, that we are part of, and invites us to celebrate in it. It’s so much more beautiful than being a dictatorial King.