Below is a rough translation of John 18:33-37, the Revised Common Lectionary gospel text for the last Sunday of Year B. This Sunday is often called “Christ the King Sunday.” I never celebrate it as such, and it is fortunate for me that I am usually away on this weekend attending the AAR/SBL annual meeting. If you are interested in why I do not find the title “Christ the King Sunday” compelling, I will show my thinking at the end of the translation. Please feel free to ignore it.
33 Εἰσῆλθεν οὖν πάλιν εἰς τὸ πραιτώριον ὁ Πιλᾶτος καὶ ἐφώνησεν τὸν Ἰησοῦν καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῷ, Σὺ εἶ ὁ βασιλεὺς τῶν Ἰουδαίων;
Therefore Pilate went in again into the praetorium and sounded out Jesus and said to him, “Are you the king of the Judeans?”
Εἰσῆλθεν: AAI 3s, εἰσέρχομαι, 1) to go out or come in: to enter
ἐφώνησεν: AAI 3s, φωνέω, 1) to sound, emit a sound, to speak 1a) of a cock: to crow 1b) of men: to cry, cry out, cry aloud, speak with a loud voice
εἶπεν: AAI 3s, λέγω, 1) to say, to speak
εἶ: PAI 2s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
1. The lexicon at greekbible.com says this regarding the πραιτώριον: “the palace in which the governor or procurator of a province resided, to which use the Romans were accustomed to appropriate the palaces already existing, and formerly dwelt in by kings or princes; at Jerusalem it was a magnificent palace which Herod the Great had built for himself, and which the Roman procurators seemed to have occupied whenever they came from Caesarea to Jerusalem to transact public business.”
2. Following Richard Horsley’s suggestion (albeit he was talking about the gospel of Mark), I translate Ἰουδαίων as Judeans, rather than Jews. Horsley’s argument is that the contention in Mark is between Jesus, as a Galilean, and the leadership of the Judeans, so an intra-Jewish struggle over the nature of faith. I have often wondered if that tension were rooted in the split between the northern and southern kingdoms of the Old Testament. To whatever degree my own speculation is strong or weak, I do think that Ἰουδαίων as Judeans helps to deflate some of the anti-Semitism that has often shaped the interpretation of the gospels, especially John.
3. The verb φωνέω refers to a call or cry – it is the verb that describes the rooster crowing in 18:27. I can imagine it to mean that Pilate called out for them to bring Jesus or as a way of describing this entire conversation as a ‘sounding’ (to use the nautical term.)
34 ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς, Ἀπὸ σεαυτοῦ σὺ τοῦτο λέγεις ἢ ἄλλοι εἶπόν σοι περὶ ἐμοῦ;
Jesus answered, “For yourself are you saying this, or did others speak to you about me?”
ἀπεκρίθη: API 3s, ἀποκρίνομαι, 1) to give an answer to a question, to answer
λέγεις: PAI 2s, λέγω, 1) to say, to speak
εἶπόν: AAI 3p, λέγω, 1) to say, to speak
1. The title of “king” plays a significant role in John’s gospel. The first use of the word was by Nathanael in 1:49. The second use was when Jesus escaped to the mountains because he knew that the people wanted to make him a king by force in 6:15 – now, that’s an interesting and troubling suggestion. By the time Jesus enters Jerusalem with cries of “Blessed is the King …” and the narrator’s allusion to the Zechariah 9:9, I cannot tell whether “king” is the erroneously imagined hope of the people or whether they are right. In the next chapter, as a result of this conversation about whether Jesus is king of the Judeans, Pilate will send Jesus to be flogged. The soldiers will mock him with a crown of thorns, purple robe, and hailing him as king of the Judeans while striking his face. And Pilate will refer to Jesus consistently as the Judeans’ king, even over the objections of the chief priests, and puts it on the inscription above Jesus on the cross, also over their objection.
The Judean leadership make two claims that seem to be very troubling with respect to their own allegiance. In 19:12, John writes, “From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the [Judeans] cried out, ‘If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.’” Then, in 19:15, in response to Pilate’s question, “Shall I crucify your king?” the Judeans say, “We have no king but Caesar.”
2. With that context, I wonder about the purpose of this question. In the story, Jesus is showing some strong resistance by questioning the questioner, even questioning the origins of the questioner’s question. Within the larger story, it seems to be part of the case John is building against the Judean leadership, by showing how Pilate is doing their bidding.
35 ἀπεκρίθη ὁ Πιλᾶτος, Μήτι ἐγὼ Ἰουδαῖός εἰμι; τὸ ἔθνος τὸ σὸν καὶ οἱ ἀρχιερεῖςπαρέδωκάν σε ἐμοί: τί ἐποίησας;
Pilate answered, “I am not Judean am I? Your nation and the chief priests handed you over to me; what did you do?”
ἀπεκρίθη: API 3s, ἀποκρίνομαι, 1) to give an answer to a question, to answer
εἰμι: PAI 1s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
παρέδωκάν: AAI 3p, παραδίδωμι, 1) to give into the hands (of another)
ἐποίησας: AAI 2s, ποιέω, 1) to make 2) to do
1. I’m thinking that the negative particle Μήτι implies a negative answer. That seems to be how it is used mostly. Perhaps it could be more strictly translated, “Am I a Judean?”
2. Interesting note: When I looked at the lexicon at thebible.org for Μήτι, I was surprised to see how many times there would be a scripture reference followed by the note, “Not in the KJV.” (KJV is the standard translation that thebible.org offers when doing cross-referencing.) Does anyone know why this term was frequently not in the manuscripts that the KJV used? I don’t think I’ve seen any term with this notation this often anywhere else in the NT.
3. Now we know the answer to Jesus’ question in v.34. The political charge accusing Jesus as aspiring to be a “king” came from his own nation (ethne) and chief priests.
4. The question, “What did you do?” seems to be exploring whether he was acting treacherously.
36 ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς, Ἡ βασιλεία ἡ ἐμὴ οὐκ ἔστιν ἐκ τοῦ κόσμου τούτου: εἰ ἐκ τοῦ κόσμου τούτου ἦν ἡ βασιλεία ἡ ἐμή, οἱ ὑπηρέται οἱ ἐμοὶ ἠγωνίζοντο [ἄν], ἵνα μὴ παραδοθῶ τοῖς Ἰουδαίοις: νῦν δὲ ἡ βασιλεία ἡ ἐμὴ οὐκ ἔστιν ἐντεῦθεν.
Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not out of this world; If my kingdom were out of this world my officers would have fought, in order that I might not be handed over to the Judeans; yet now my reign is not from here.
ἀπεκρίθη: API 3s, ἀποκρίνομαι, 1) to give an answer to a question, to answer
ἔστιν: PAI 3s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
ἦν: IAI 3s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
ἠγωνίζοντο: IMI 3p, ἀγωνίζομαι, 1) to enter a contest: contend in the gymnastic games 2) to contend with adversaries, fight
παραδοθῶ: APSubj 1s, παραδίδωμι, 1) to give into the hands (of another)
ἔστιν: εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
1. The word I have translated as “officers,” ὑπηρέτης, can mean a servant or – in nautical terms – “underrower.” John uses it a lot more than the synoptic writers, and always with reference to the officials acting on behalf of the chief priests, except for here. The term could be as neutral as “servant” (although there are other more common terms for that meaning), but seems to be more like “officers.” “Soldiers” might be a bit too much, but only a bit. Henchmen? Enforcers? Minions?
A puzzling question the reference to “officers” raises for me is whether it tells us something about how John understands the twelve. Is the point here that Jesus does not have officers? Or, that the officers Jesus does have do not fight like earthly kingdom officers do? In what way is Jesus’ reign not “out of this world”? In its organization or in its actions? (I need to consult a good Johannine scholar to wade through John’s treatment of the twelve and whether he – by elevating Lazarus among other things – is pointing away from the twelve as the Jesus’ officers to a more egalitarian form of organization, distinct from kingdoms of this world. (Any scholars out there want to guide me on this?)
2. Jesus describes what would be happening if he did aspire to an earthly kingdom. In my first attempt at translating this text, I was treating this response as if it were all in the subjunctive voice, but that’s simply not the case. The verbs following the word “if” (εἰ) - ἦν and ἠγωνίζοντο – are in the indicative voice, which is customary for εἰ (as opposed to the word ἐάν, which is typically followed by the subjunctive voice). Bullinger’s lexicon expresses the purpose of the indicative εἰ, when it is followed by the present tense, expresses a logical consequence of something, rather than a subjective possibility. And when the εἰ indicative is followed by the imperfect tense, it expresses a logical consequence that is not, in fact, reality. I’m not presenting that well, but here’ what I think it means: Jesus is describing exactly what a “king of this world” would do – he would send his officers to fight. That’s how kingdoms are established in this world and Pilate knows that as well as anyone. One of Jesus’ followers tried to fight back. Apparently they had not yet caught on to the difference between his kingdom and kingdoms of this world.
3. Since John uses “officers” typically to express the enforcers on behalf of the Judean leadership, I wonder if this is a swipe at them, for imitating the empire in how they go about their work and leadership.
4. “But now my reign is not from here.” What to do with the “now”? Is it a statement of eschatological promise? Is it an expression of disappointment? Or both? I’m chewing on it.
37 εἶπεν οὖν αὐτῷ ὁ Πιλᾶτος, Οὐκοῦν βασιλεὺς εἶ σύ; ἀπεκρίθη ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Σὺ λέγειςὅτι βασιλεύς εἰμι. ἐγὼ εἰς τοῦτο γεγέννημαι καὶ εἰς τοῦτο ἐλήλυθα εἰς τὸν κόσμον, ἵνα μαρτυρήσω τῇ ἀληθείᾳ: πᾶς ὁ ὢν ἐκ τῆς ἀληθείας ἀκούει μου τῆς φωνῆς.
Therefore Pilate said to him, “Then aren’t you a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. Into this have been born and into this have come into the world, in order that I may witness to the truth; All who are out of the truth hear my voice.”
εἶπεν: AAI 3s, λέγω, 1) to say, to speak
εἶ: PAI 2s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
ἀπεκρίθη: API 3s, ἀποκρίνομαι, 1) to give an answer to a question, to answer
λέγεις: PAI 2s, λέγω, 1) to say, to speak
εἰμι: PAI 1s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
γεγέννημαι: PerfPI 1s, γεννάω, 1) of men who fathered children 1a) to be born
ἐλήλυθα: PerfAI 1s, ἔρχομαι, 1) to come
μαρτυρήσω: AASubj 1s, μαρτυρέω, 1) to be a witness, to bear witness,
ἀκούει: PAI 3s, ἀκούω, 1) to be endowed with hearing, not deaf 2) to hear
1. Pilate’s question begins with the indicative adverb οὐκοῦν (a mashup of the negative particle οὐκ and the conjunction οῦν). Unlike the subjunctive negative particle Μήτι, that we saw in his question of v.35, the implied meaning here seems to be affirmative, “So, you are a king” or “You do claim to be a king” or something like that.
2. I see an etymological connection between Pilate calling for Jesus (φωνέω) in v.33 and Jesus’ voice(φωνῆς). Some folks listen to Pilate; some listen to Jesus. Some are “out of this world” and some are “out of truth.”
3. This seems to be a classic moment of Jesus speaking truth to power. But, by that, I don’t mean that Jesus is calling Pilate out or sticking to the man. It is almost as if power and truth are two levels of conversation, where words mean one thing taken at the level of violent, earthly kingdoms, and mean something else entirely when taken at the level of the kingdom Jesus represents. The kingdoms that Pilate knows and is part of is established by violence and only when it is violently established can it promise peace, such as the Pax Romana. The kingdom Jesus represents is about truth. Not legitimation, not legal power, not establishing a narrative, but truth. The idea that there is truth that has priority over power seems unintelligible to Pilate.
Bonus Verse, 38a.
38 λέγει αὐτῷ ὁ Πιλᾶτος, Τί ἐστιν ἀλήθεια;
Pilate says to him, “What is truth?”
λέγει: PAI 3s, λέγω, 1) to say, to speak
ἐστιν: PAI 3s, εἰμί, 1) to be, to exist, to happen, to be present
1. Pilate is still asking questions and this one is compelling. Is he dismissing a question over “truth” as a relevant thing to be bringing to his praetorium? Or, is he really wondering, “What is truth”? Following my comment from the last verse, I suspect Pilate simply doesn’t know how to address “truth” when he’s asking about “power.”
Circling back to why I do not celebrate “Christ the King Sunday,” let me first say that I agree with those who use the term “Reign of Christ” instead of “Christ the King,” but that name change alone doesn’t quite address my concerns. I also like the language of the “kin-dom of God” rather than the “kingdom of God,” and that distinction serves better the concern that I have.
My concern has to do with the degree to which one can use imitative language in a non-imitative way. I think the original intent of Pope Pius XI when he established “Christ the King Sunday,” in 1925 was to redefine what kingship looks like and to remind Christians that our highest allegiance belongs to Christ and not to any earthly power, like Mussolini. I certainly agree that our allegiance belongs to Christ and not any earthly power as well as the urgency of getting that message across. But I wonder if using the language of “kingdom” as well as “reign” and even words like “allegiance” are effective ways of communicating that thought. We are taking words that have gathered meaning over the years – what Hans Georg Gadamer calls “an effective historical consciousness.” The term “king” is inescapably ancient or foreign to someone like me. I was raised in the US and only curious about constitutional monarchs overseas in the way I was curious about Hollywood stars or other celebrities. The notion of a “King” in any sort of powerful way is the stuff of legends, history books, and films with lots of swords. Always swords. Always male. Always powerful and power-hungry, even if an occasional “good king” had noble aspirations. And the proper way to serve a “good king” is to have allegiance, loyalty, fealty, etc.
Does the term “Christ the king” help, if our connotations for the word “king” evoke either an image of a powerless constitutional figurehead, or a symbol of a bygone past that was always steeped in violence? I have a feeling that the intention behind “Christ the King Sunday” is as incomprehensible to the twenty-first century as Jesus’ language of “truth” was to Pilate who only knew “power.” I suspect that even if we pulled out the greatest pageantry and prose that we can muster to declare Christ “the king” most people today would respond with, “So what? You are declaring Jesus a powerless figurehead or a powerful has been.”
I simply don’t know if imitative language can be effective as irony or paradox, which is what I think we’re trying to accomplish when we say, “Christ is king, but only if you reimagine what king actually is.” Perhaps it is time to agree with Paul Tillich that words and symbols can lose their meaning. I would rather have “Christ the Bread Sunday,” “Christ the Vine Sunday,” “Christ the Door Sunday,” or “Christ the Friend Sunday.” While each of those terms have their own challenges, they offer not imitative but alternative ways of thinking about who Christ is and how Christ presents God’s saving presence to us.
So, anyway, that’s my musing for now. Take it, leave it, help me see it better, whatever you feel compelled to do. I thank you for even listening.
