My Kingdom Is Not Of This World

As we approach Eastertide, I offer a brief reflection on this holiday amid turbulent times in our world.

On trial before Pontius Pilate, Jesus made a stunning declaration:

“My kingdom is not of this world…” (John 18:36)

He wasn’t just rejecting political revolution. He was reorienting all expectations–not only for His disciples, but for us as well.

The people of Israel longed for a Messiah who would overthrow Roman oppression, restore national sovereignty, and usher in an era of prosperity. Sound familiar? They wanted a king with a sword. What they received was a King with a cross.

How could a people be so fickle as to go from waiving palm branches and shouting “Hosanna” to yelling “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” in a matter of days? It’s not so mysterious: The people were expecting a different kind of savior…one like Barabbas (who, per Luke 23:18-19, can be seen as a social justice warrior who attacked the oppressors in pursuit of political liberation). Both Jesus and Barabbas were accused of sedition, insurrection, and treason, but Barabbas murdered while Jesus…healed the sick.

Even Pilate was confused. “So you are a king?” he asked. Jesus replied, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth.” (John 18:37)

It was never about seizing thrones or dominating governments. It was about something far deeper–a kingdom that begins not with policy, but with the transformation of the human heart.

The Idolatry of Earthly Hope

Today, we are not so different from those ancient crowds. We still crave political saviors. We cheer and rage, vote and donate, pin our hopes on men and women we believe will fix what is broken.

But political power is a poor substitute for divine redemption.

When Jesus stood before the Roman governor, He could have summoned legions of angels. He didn’t. He submitted to injustice — not because He lacked power, but because He was inaugurating a kingdom not built on coercion or campaigns, but on love, sacrifice, and truth.

And yet, how often do we act as though electing the right leader will save us?

The danger isn’t politics itself — all of us, Christians included (and perhaps especially), are called to pursue justice, love mercy, and walk humbly even in public life. The danger is political idolatry, the belief that salvation comes from the right party, the right platform, or the right man in office.

It doesn’t.

A Different Kind of King

This Easter, we don’t celebrate a politician who won an election — we celebrate a crucified and risen Savior who conquered sin and death.

His coronation was a crown of thorns.

His throne was a Roman cross.

His victory was an empty tomb.

And His reign is not confined to borders or ballot boxes.

If we are His followers, our allegiance must reflect that. Not in retreat from the world, but in radical reformation of how we engage with it. The church’s witness falters when we mirror the power structures of the world rather than reflect the heart of our King.

I know this is a tough pill to swallow. Think about Peter. We tend to reduce him to denying Christ because he was afraid for his own life, but maybe something else was going on? After all, he had shown tremendous courage hours earlier in the Garden of Gethsemane by drawing his dagger and attacking the mob when Jesus was ambushed. This man was not afraid to die.

Maybe when he denied Christ, he was in a state of shock, realizing for the first time that he did not really know the man he had given up the last three years of his life walking with. Yeah, maybe Peter was not lying when he said, “I do not know the Man!” and we are often guilty of the same thing.

Easter Hope

So yes, we vote. We advocate. We speak out. But we do not confuse any human government with the Kingdom of God.

Because our hope is not in Rome, or Washington, or any other earthly capital.

Jesus died for you. He died for me. And through His substitution, we can become a Bar-abbas ourselves: a son of the Father.

Our hope is in a risen Savior who told Pilate, and us:

“My kingdom is not of this world.”

He is risen. And His kingdom is coming.

image: Ecce Homo (“Behold the Man”), Antonio Ciseri’s depiction of Pilate presenting Jesus to the people of Jerusalem