Not of This World
- Rev. Aaron Houghton
- Nov 25, 2018
- 5 min read

The exchange between Pilate and Jesus has always captured my attention because of the way it highlights the misunderstanding of why Jesus came. Many would-be followers recognized the Messianic implications of Jesus’ identity, but overlooked the nuance with which his ministry was practiced. They seemed to be longing for a king who would fight for them, or at least lead them into battle. But Jesus will not resort to violence, nor will those who truly serve him. “If my kingdom was of this world, my servants would fight to keep me from being handed over to Jewish leaders.” This verse emphasizes nonviolence as a distinguishing characteristic of those who serve Christ while showing sympathy for just how alien a concept nonviolence often seems.
“My kingdom is not of this world.” There are two very important terms here for the understanding of John’s gospel. First, kosmos, commonly translated as “world”; and second, basileia, commonly translated as “kingdom.” These translations can be somewhat misleading, suggesting an “extra-terrestrial” location for the Kingdom of God. “System” is a more meaningful translation of kosmos, suggests theologian Walter Wink. Basileia, or kingdom, then, has to do with how power is created, maintained, and asserted within this System. When Jesus tells Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world,” what he’s really saying is, “I’m not trying to steal your power and influence, I’m trying change the way you understand power and influence.”
Earlier in the 8th chapter of John, “when the Pharisees challenge Jesus’ authority to attack their religious order, he responds, ‘You are of this [kosmos], I am not of this [kosmos].’” If kosmos is translated as “world”, this verse gives the implication that Jesus is otherworldly and planning on taking us to “another place” if we follow him. But that can’t be the gospel’s intent since it introduces Jesus as the word of God, a partner in God’s creation of this world. Jesus is telling the Pharisees the same thing he tells Pilate in today’s passage: “I’m not here to serve the system by which you claim to have power and importance, I’m here to serve the system by which God will restore the least, the last, and the lost.”
Why is nonviolence so essential for God’s restoration of power and dignity to the vulnerable? It’s because violence is one of primary tools used to exploit vulnerability, and Jesus could not effectively bring the Kingdom of God into reality using the methods of the worldly System. 1 Corinthians 1:26-28 explains why God chose to use nonviolence even if it meant the cross. “God chose what appears foolish to the System in order to shame the wise; God chose what appears weak to the System in order to shame the strong, God chose what appears low and despicable to the System, mere nothings, to reduce to nothing things that are.” Let’s be honest, nonviolence still seems foolish, weak, and despicable. And violence is often endorsed as the most effective way to protect and defend the vulnerable. I still struggle with this. Jesus’ emphatic claim that violence is not something in which his followers participate forces me into a complicated conflict with a reality I would have otherwise assumed to be indisputable.
Rome, at the time of Jesus, was one such indisputable reality. An empire whose power and wealth and order were maintained through oppressive taxes on the inhabitants of the realm, and enforced through an impressive military with a known willingness to resort to violence. “As Rome’s representative, Pilate does not--cannot--understand that there is another order of reality breaking in on the [dominance] of violence that, under the temporary guise of Rome, now straddles the world. Jesus answers him: ‘The New Reality (basileia) of which I speak is not of this old System of Domination (kosmos); if it were, my aides would fight, that I not be delivered to the Jewish authorities. But the New Reality of which I speak does not take its rise from the Domination System (kosmos)’. How different that sounds from the usual translation, ‘My kingdom is not of this world’! The values of the Domination System and those of Jesus are incommensurate. Violence cannot cure violence. The New Reality eschews violence, but it has its own, quite amazing forms of power, which those inured to violence cannot comprehend.”
This is an important point, and it is often overlooked in discussions about nonviolence: to act without violence is not the same as acting without power. Nonviolence is still very powerful, it just requires more creativity than violence. This is the very creativity by which we bear the image of God. Without practicing this creativity, our communities, churches, nations, and world become estranged from God. And it is to this “human sociological realm that exists in estrangement from God” that the New Testament seems to refer when it uses the term kosmos. The Kingdom of God, therefore is, in part, a restoration of human participation in divine creativity to redeem and restore peace to the entire created order.
Peacemaking is tremendously powerful, but this is only because God is tremendously powerful. Christian ethicist Stanley Hauerwas writes: “As Christians, we must maintain day in and day out that peace is not something to be achieved by our power. Rather peace is a gift of God that comes only by our being a community formed around a crucified savior--a savior who teaches us how to be peaceful in a world in rebellion against its true Lord.”
“Patience is one of the most needed virtues if we are to live amid this violent world as a peaceable people...the church must learn time and time again that its task is not to make the world the kingdom, but to be faithful to the kingdom by showing the world what it means to be a community of peace. Thus we are required to be patient and never lose hope. But hope in what?” asks Hauerwas. “Specifically, hope in the God who has promised that faithfulness to the kingdom will be of use in God’s care for the world. Thus our hope is not in this world, or in humankind’s goodness, or in some sense that everything always works out for the best, but in God and God’s faithful caring for the world.”
Our hope is in God and God’s faithfulness to us. A faithfulness that remains from the manger to the cross. Our advent journey begins next week with a hope that is not of this world: a hope with which we wait for the coming of Christ.
Sources:
Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers.
Stanley Hauerwas, The Peaceable Kingdom.
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