The prophet Daniel predicted a majestic Messiah when he said, “In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed” (Daniel 7:13-14, NIV).
The coronation of Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God, was certainly the most triumphant moment in human history, second only to the Resurrection. However, when the Son of God entered the world, he entered as an embryo, spent nine months in the womb of a human mother, was born in the pain of childbirth, and lived in obscurity for 30 years.
St. Paul said, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:5-8, NRSV).
The phrases and words “emptied himself,” “slave,” “obedient,” “death,” and “cross” don’t sound much like the prescription for a majestic king coming into power. Kings come into power riding a white horse or blowing trumpets from the pinnacle of the temple. As far as we know, the only time Jesus rode anything was on Palm Sunday when he publicly announced his kingship by riding on a borrowed donkey. He did not own a Cadillac or even a chariot. He was not carried around on a litter. No, he walked everywhere he went.
Last week, my wife and I hiked the trails in the Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument in New Mexico. It was a very long hike with an elevation gain of more than 1,000 feet. We were both exhausted and overheated by the end of the hike.
Then my brother, who was with us, told us that according to his app, we had only hiked between three and four miles. Compare that to the hikes that Jesus took on a regular basis. If you went through Samaria, from Galilee to Judea was 70 miles, a journey that normally took two to three days.
If you chose to take the flatland hike to the east of the Jordan to avoid Samaria, it was a four-to-five-day trip of 120 miles. Can you imagine walking on treacherous terrain for 30 miles a day for several days in a row. We tend to read right over phrases in the Gospels that tell us that Jesus “left Judea and went back once more to Galilee” (John 4:3) and treat it like Jesus went out to the local store for a quart of milk. The humble King came walking among us, sweating like we sweat, and bearing the burdens of life.
When Jesus was ready to begin his ministry, he went to the muddy Jordon and was baptized by a long-haired hippy called John the Baptist, then he retreated to the wilderness for 40 days. That is an unimpressive way to begin a campaign for a royal position. He should have been putting his image on gold coins, posting his super-enlarged portrait on the side of buildings. And parading himself as a champion of the people.
That, however, was not Jesus’ style. He chose to walk rather than to ride. He chose authenticity rather than popularity. He chose a cross rather than a crown.
Today, Jesus does not impose his majesty upon us, he simply offers us an invitation to respond to his love. He humbly searches for us like a shepherd searching for his lost sheep, or a woman sweeping her house looking for her lost coin. If we choose to return from the far country to the one who loves us, he will meet us with open arms and we will find acceptance, forgiveness, new life, and a home.
The humble King invites us to be his friend, so that we might find new life.
Dr. Dan Darby is a retired United Methodist pastor.
