by Ken Sehested
Prior to his lynching at the hand of Roman rage, and to the cheers of Caiaphas’ temple tyranny, Pilate asks Jesus, “So, are you to be king?”
“So say you, Brother Pontius,” Jesus replies. (Which is to say, I am but not as you think.) “My reign is not planted in the world you imagine. If it were, all who claim me as lord would bloody the sword.”
So tell us King Jesus, of what realm shall you rule, for what world do you long?
From what throne do you spring? By what power are you strong?
It has been said, “Do not be enticed by the things of the world. For the love of the Abba is not in those who profit from the ways things are. Truly, the error of this era is passing away.”
Right: Artwork by Julie Lonneman.
Yet it is also said that in the beginning, God bequeathed the world its light and rejoiced in the earth’s delight. So loved was the world that Heaven unfurled the Only Begotten’s star bright.
So graced was the earth, Mother Mary gave birth to a Promise rejoined through the ages. ‘Twas Christ that was sent to annul terror’s threat, to ransom hostility’s wages.
So crown him King Jesus, the one come to free us from rule by all threat and throne. Though once chained in capture, rejoice now, earth’s rapture shall fully and finally atone.
When the angel descends with trumpet in hand, loud voices in heaven declare: the world’s sovereign claim to the world’s destined shame, gives way now to Provident Care.
Ever seized in Thy Mercy, ever crowned in Thy Welcome, wash all of our bloodthirst away. To the table of bounty—the feast of sure plenty—guide our feet, hold our hand, now we pray.
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