Bound

Jesus’ kingdom is "not of this world" and belongs to a reality beyond the physical world, beyond our understanding of time, space, and even the Big Bang.  When Jesus tells Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world,” he is referring to a realm governed by values, authority, and a reality that differs from those of earthly kingdoms.

Christ the King Sunday, celebrated on the final Sunday of the Christian liturgical year, is a moment to reflect on the sovereignty of Christ over all creation.  For Methodists, this day, sometimes called "Christ Reigns Sunday," emphasizes Jesus’ spiritual kingship, which transcends earthly power and points to a reign rooted in truth, justice, and love.  It marks the culmination of the church calendar, serving as a bridge between the reflections of the liturgical year and the anticipation of Advent, when believers prepare to welcome the Christ child.

The theme of Christ's reign invites us to contemplate a kingdom "not of this world", one defined by compassion, humility, and divine truth.  It challenges us to reimagine authority—not as a force of domination but as a call to service and unity under God’s eternal and inclusive rule.  On this day, we celebrate not only the promise of Christ’s ultimate victory over sin and death but also our role as participants in building a world that reflects his transformative love.

Christ's reign transcends earthly constraints, not bound by material existence or the limits we understand through science.  Jesus might be understood as pointing toward a kingdom that originates from the divine, which encompasses and exceeds not just our world but the whole cosmos—indeed, the entirety of creation, including the Big Bang and everything that flowed from it.

Jesus’ words emphasize that his mission, purpose, and kingdom go beyond physical power, earthly kingdoms, or any human construct.  The “kingdom not of this world” calls us to look beyond the visible material reality toward a more profound spiritual truth;  the divine, eternal perspective .  This gives us a broader spiritual perspective that stretches beyond the Big Bang, even beyond the universe, toward something fundamentally divine and infinite.

The best physics researcher will tell you they have only identified about 5% of the universe.  It is made up of ordinary matter that physics can currently explain, while the remaining 95% is comprised of dark matter and dark energy, which are largely unknown and not fully understood by physics.  There is a context of the word beyond all of this.

Yes, all energy we use today ultimately originates from the Big Bang.  That initial event, we understand, set in motion the creation and distribution of all the matter and energy in the universe, fueling stars, forming planets, and creating the conditions for life.  Energy from the Big Bang created stars, which in turn generate energy through nuclear fusion.  The sun converts hydrogen into helium, releasing energy that powers almost all life and processes on Earth.  Oil, coal, and natural gas are essentially stored solar energy.  Ancient plants captured sunlight through photosynthesis, and over millions of years, this organic material transformed into fossil fuels.

Elements like uranium were formed in supernovae (exploding stars) after the Big Bang.  The energy we release from nuclear reactions taps into the force that holds atomic nuclei together, a consequence of processes that began with the Big Bang.

The Earth’s core is still cooling from the energy and gravitational compression that formed the planet, with some additional radioactive decay contributing.  This heat links back to the Big Bang, as it’s part of the overall energy distribution in the universe.  Energy manifests in diverse forms, but it's all derived from the initial cosmic "budget" of the Big Bang.

What would it mean if that was all there was?

People might struggle with a sense of purposelessness without a higher power to give life direction.  Shared beliefs about a divine unify communities.  Without them, ethical frameworks could feel arbitrary, risking social fragmentation.  Many find meaning in traditions tied to belief.  If seen as purely social constructs, they might lose personal and cultural value.

Even if belief systems evolved to meet certain cognitive or social needs, they can still foster well-being, purpose, and ethical behavior, and can be adapted meaningfully in a secular context.  Without a divine framework there’s a deeper responsibility to ourselves and to each other, to shape a meaningful existence here and now.  We become co-creators of our world, with the freedom to imagine and pursue ideals that unite us.  There's an invitation to embrace our time here with urgency, understanding that life’s brevity can intensify the value of each moment.

If evolution were to continue indefinitely without major extinctions, life forms could conceivably reach levels of intelligence, awareness, and capability that might resemble what we imagine as "divine" qualities: omniscience (through unlimited knowledge), omnipotence (through advanced control over energy and matter), and omnipresence (through expansive reach across the universe).  In such a scenario, the divine wouldn’t come from outside the universe but would emerge gradually, as a natural progression of complexity and consciousness.

In this view, the “divine” could be seen as a potential within the universe, not an external creator but rather the highest evolution of life, representing unity, understanding, and even compassion on a cosmic scale. It could transform our idea of divinity from something separate and absolute to something deeply connected with life’s potential and the universe’s natural unfolding.

The Alpha and the Omega

Jesuit priest and paleontologist Teilhard de Chardin proposed the concept of the "Omega Point," a stage in evolution where consciousness and complexity reach their peak, effectively forming a collective consciousness or divine state.  According to de Chardin, evolution moves toward higher complexity and consciousness, ultimately converging into a unified, divine point.  His idea has been discussed as a spiritual, scientific, and philosophical framework for an "emergent divinity."

Some futurists, like Ray Kurzweil, posit that humanity will reach a "Singularity," where artificial intelligence and biotechnology evolve to surpass human limitations.  This transition might involve life forms with intelligence, power, and presence that surpass what we currently comprehend.  Though not divine in a theological sense, these beings would exhibit god-like qualities, and some have speculated about them as a form of secular or “engineered divinity.”   If evolution is a fundamental force in the universe, then the universe and all of life could be part of a divine whole that unfolds over time.

Each of these theories approaches the idea of a “natural” divinity—a divinity that evolves through the universe’s own mechanisms, rather than being external or supernatural.  It reimagines “God” as the endpoint or peak of evolutionary potential, shaped by the forces already present in the cosmos.

In contrast to earthly kings who rely on strength, force, or military power to rule, Jesus presents a spiritual kingship, where leadership is not about asserting control over people, but about embodying and revealing the truth that others can freely choose to follow.  The "king" in this context is not a ruler who imposes authority, but one who inspires through truth, inviting people to live in alignment with that truth.

The key distinction here is that in Jesus' definition, a king is someone who serves the truth, and that truth is what ultimately draws people to follow.  This is a radical shift from traditional kingship, where power is often used to enforce obedience and rule.  Jesus’ kingdom is one where those who seek truth willingly listen to his words, following him because they recognize the truth he represents, rather than being compelled by force or fear.

In this sense, Jesus' kingship is transformative—it invites people into a relationship with truth itself, rather than subjugating them through power or violence.

For Jesus,

A ruler shares truth,

Not by force, but by his voice—

Souls listen, not bow.

Today's scripture John 18:33-37 I will read from the Amplified Bible:

33 So Pilate went into the Praetorium again, and called Jesus and asked Him, “Are You the King of the Jews?” 34 Jesus replied, “Are you saying this on your own initiative, or did others tell you about Me?” 35 Pilate answered, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own people and their chief priests have handed You over to me. What have You done [that is worthy of death]?” 36 Jesus replied, “My kingdom is not of this world [nor does it have its origin in this world]. If My kingdom were of this world, My servants would be fighting [hard] to keep Me from being handed over to the Jews; but as it is, My kingdom is not of this world.”

Jesus had been betrayed, but he's indicating a kind of strength that Pilate cannot fully grasp—it's a power that doesn’t need armies or conflict to assert itself.  This is indeed a rare, if indirect, "boast" in the Gospels, where Jesus alludes to an unbreakable strength in his mission and identity that no earthly ruler can overcome or even comprehend.  It's a powerful, understated way of conveying his authority.

I imagine Jesus and God sharing a laugh over how Pilate—and, by extension, many people—fail to grasp the full, cosmic scale of things   Human limitations: while people worry over control and dominance, they’re often unaware of the far larger, inevitable forces at play.   Here Pilate was, grasping at control, while his world is hurtling through space on a timeline he can’t see or change. 

Pilate thinks he holds all the cards—meanwhile, the ground he’s standing on spins through the cosmos like a speck.  If only he knew he’s just a bit player in a drama that stretches past the stars!  huh? Jesus appreciating the irony that Pilate, so fixated on earthly power, misses the reality of his own smallness in the grand, divine scheme.  Pilate is not less than, but he certainly isn't greater.

Power in his hands—

yet the earth beneath his feet

drifts through endless night.

 37 So Pilate said to Him, “Then You are a King?” Jesus answered, “You say [correctly] that I am a King. This is why I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth [who is a friend of the truth and belongs to the truth] hears and listens carefully to My voice.”

This defines a king not as a figure of power through force but one whose authority comes from truth, which is central to the nature of leadership as Jesus defines it.  This concept contrasts with typical human leaders who rely on coercion or power dynamics.

When applied to human interactions and leadership, symbiosis (a mutually beneficial relationship) mirrors the biblical idea of leadership based on truth, compassion, and respect, rather than dominance.  Human progress  might eventually result in a society where truth, cooperation, and leadership without oppression become the norm. 

The principle that leadership and authority based on truth—where people listen to and follow based on alignment with truth—is ultimately more effective and ethically sound than coercive or parasitic systems of rule.  This leads to a logical exploration of what makes true leadership and authority.  

In Matthew 20:25-28  Jesus teaches his disciples that true greatness is not about lording over others but serving them.  This directly contrasts worldly power with divine leadership, which is rooted in humility and service. It's a foundational passage for understanding leadership based on truth and compassion.

“But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave...” 

Christ’s humble nature, who, though being in the form of God, chose to become a servant.  This act of humility and self-sacrifice embodies divine leadership that transcends worldly power, aligning with themes of compassion and truth in leadership.

"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself...” (Philippians 2:5-7)

Jesus lays out his mission: to bring good news to the poor, proclaim freedom for prisoners, and bring recovery of sight to the blind.  This aligns with the leadership of compassion and truth, showing that leadership in God’s kingdom is focused on justice, mercy, and the healing of brokenness in society.

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor...” (Luke 4:18)

Jesus outlines the nature of divine leadership—one that is gentle, just, and rooted in the care of the oppressed and marginalized.

“Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations.” (Isaiah 42:1)

Leadership is compassionate, humble, just, and centered in truth, reflecting the divine authority that transcends worldly power.

This can be all very overwhelming.  We need to focus on different things at different times.  This is what the liturgical calendar helps us to remember as we keep moving through the years.  There are practical steps we can take as we tarry.  It takes a long time for God to save everyone that is going to be saved.  The process hold intrinsic value.  The miracle of the loaves really does feel like an example of abundance through sharing, where everyone received something, and yet the total blessing far exceeded the original amount. This perspective brings an everyday sense to that miraculous story—highlighting how even small contributions, when shared, can multiply in impact and meaning.

I will close this message with something a bit unique.  I read recently about a study on how rats can learn to drive small vehicles to reach treats, shedding light on animal cognition, motivation, and emotional expression.  Researchers found that when housed in enriched environments—with toys, social companions, and extra space—rats not only learned to drive faster but also showed signs of heightened engagement and motivation.  Interestingly, these rats displayed behavior that went beyond simple reward-seeking; they often seemed to enjoy the experience itself, sometimes opting to drive rather than take a direct path on foot, as though the process held intrinsic satisfaction.

In a second phase, researchers introduced a “Wait For It” protocol, testing how delayed rewards affected the rats’ behavior and cognitive flexibility.  The results were striking: rats that learned to wait for treats showed more optimistic and resilient problem-solving styles, alongside unique physical indicators of positive emotion.  Observers noted that the rats expressed emotion through their entire bodies, particularly through tail posture, which changed in ways associated with dopamine release and pleasure.  This study highlights the powerful effects of environment and positive anticipation on learning and emotional resilience.

Rats in tiny cars,

tails curled in joyful motion—

a journey unfolds

As we prepare to leave this space of worship, let us carry with us the charge of Christ’s truth—a truth that does not merely call us to believe but compels us to act.  Each of us is invited into the work of God’s kingdom, not as passive onlookers but as active participants.  This means living with integrity, showing mercy, and advocating for justice in every corner of our lives.  In Christ, we see that true leadership is not rooted in power but in service, not in control but in compassion.  What steps can we take this week to embody this truth in our families, workplaces, and communities?

The path of discipleship is not always easy, but it is transformative.  When we choose to align our lives with the truth of Christ, we become bearers of hope in a world that often feels adrift.  We proclaim, through our actions, that His kingdom is alive and active—not bound by borders or politics but flourishing wherever love reigns.  Let us go forth boldly, knowing that we walk not in isolation but as part of the body of Christ, empowered by His Spirit to bring light to the darkness.  

I will leave you with something my grandfather wrote about compassion:

"There remains one final problem. You may not pretend to experiences you have not had, and all of us know quite well that there are ills in the world that lie beyond our experience. No two lives coincide, and given the totality of man's experience, what any of us may know and feel is very little. How then, are we to match a limited life to the limitless occasion's for sympathy.

The best we can do is try to cultivate patiently that unselfishness of mind and heart which we know as imagination. When human relationships break down, that break down always implies failure on someone's part to put himself in the place of another. Thus a student of social affairs says, "The broken link between classes in the modern world is a fundamental defect of imagination."  

(wfmsermons.blogspot.com/2009/11/virtue-of-compassion.html)

Let us Pray

Divine Source of truth and light,

We come before you, grateful for the boundless love that transcends all understanding.

Guide us to embrace your kingdom, one not bound by the limits of this world,

but rooted in truth, compassion, and the eternal.

Help us to lead with humility, serve with purpose,

and find unity in the shared calling to care for one another and all creation.

May your truth be the foundation of our actions,

and your love the strength that carries us forward.

In the name of your infinite wisdom and grace,

we give thanks and seek your peace. Amen.

Benediction

Go now into the world with hearts full of truth and hands ready to serve.

May the boundless grace of the Divine guide your steps,

the unshakable truth of love shape your actions,

and the eternal light of compassion lead you always.

Amen.

Nottingham UMC 11/24/2024