According to Walmart, the crackling commercial season known as "the holidays" officially has begun. If that’s true, then we in the Church must be marching to a very different drummer boy than the folks whose holy city is Bentonville, Arkansas. After all, the exchange we overhear this morning between Jesus and Pontius Pilate sounds a lot more like the build-up to Easter, not Christmas - so what gives?

Truth is, for centuries we in the Church have ended the Christian year with a quick gut-check. We use this day to remind each other that Jesus is King. In this way, the year that began with an extended reflection on the meaning of Jesus’ coming among us in Bethlehem - called Advent - comes to an end today with Christ the King Sunday. A year that was launched by anticipating God’s messenger ends with the reminder that that the King of kings will one day return to reclaim this world, and all those whose allegiance is to him, for membership in his eternal Kingdom.

That’s why today I’m going to let you in on a little secret. For all the songs we’ll soon be singing about how Emmanuel has come to us, for all the manger scenes we’ll re-create and the angel voices we’ll strain to hear, nothing we will do will bring Christ to us. That’s because Jesus is already here. The Messiah has come, and as much as we love to tell it, the Christmas story does not depend on us to be true.

Seems to me that’s very good news about this time of year. It’s not our job to make the holidays holy! The super-charged, commercially-driven days between now and the year’s end are going to be meaningful and holy not because of how we feel or how we manage to plumb the deep meaning of God’s love for us, but because of what God has already done for us. That's true whether or not you get your tree up before December 20, or your Christmas cards out before the 23rd! This Christmas may be for you a time of joy or stress, these holidays full of wonder or a whopping let-down, but because God has come among us in Christ Jesus, every day is imbued with holy meaning. So, when we sing today “rejoice - the Lord is King!” we celebrate the fact that Jesus has already given us the Christmas present we needed most: he’s taken charge in the universe and defeated the deadly power of our sin

And we could leave it at that. A sermon-brevity record - and you’d be home early to take in the Redskins-Cowboys game. But because the world will be looking at Jesus the gurgling little baby for the next few weeks - until it gets back to its business of trying to ignore him - let’s spend a moment considering Jesus’ claim to Kingship. When Jesus stands bold and alone before the world’s most powerful man for a thousand miles, we hear the arrogant question: “Are you a king?” And Pilate looks like the ruthless, cold-blooded tyrant that we know - with historical certainty - he was.

But we also notice something odd: it does not appear that Pilate particularly wants to send Jesus to his death. Just before the verses we read, he tells Jesus' accusers, "I don’t care about your Jewish nonsense; take this man off my hands judge him according to your own laws.” After this passage Pilate informs them, "I can’t find a case against this guy,” offering to release Jesus - but instead they choose Barabbas, a rebel and big-time crowd favorite. So Pilate has Jesus flogged (a punishment short of execution), in the possibility the mob will be satisfied with that. Still they demand his death.

Pilate just isn’t sure what to make of Jesus, so I wonder if when Jesus said to him, “My kingdom is not from this world,” maybe Pontius relaxed a little bit. Perhaps he thought “Ha! I knew it: this guy’s just another religious nutcase, out preaching spiritual mumbo-jumbo, irrelevant stuff. People like this are harmless enough in the real world.” So when he asks, “What is truth?,” just maybe in the midst of his busy day, Pontius was pausing to consider the words of someone he saw as a truly “spiritual person.” Did Pilate care if Jesus answered? Maybe. Maybe not.

But we do know how the story went from there. Pilate was too invested in the status quo to risk going to the mat for some religious eccentric. He couldn’t afford to incite a riot. More importantly, he couldn’t leave even a shadow of doubt as to who was really in charge. "What is truth?” Pilate asks - but then he does the safe thing: he signs a form and sends Jesus along to meet his death. Who knows? Maybe Pontius was late for lunch that day, or had to get his chariot washed for a parade….

A moral of the story might be: only real kings need to be taken seriously. That’s why when Jesus says, "My kingdom is not of this world.” we might be tempted to relax a bit, too. Jesus is “The King,” sure - but in a spiritual sense, the way Richard’s the King of stock car racing and Elvis and Michael are the kings of rock and pop. We don't get too bent out of shape about how un-American the notion of kings is, because Jesus is only a king in heaven (wherever that is!). So we breathe a sigh of relief that “Christ the King” is poetic, figurative language about an otherworldly figure.

But Jesus did claim his kingship. He said "My kingdom is not of this world.” Now we may think of Jesus as our friend, our brother or our shepherd - he is all of these, and a whole lot more - but to those who dare follow him, he is King. And if Jesus is our King, that would make us – we who live in a free land and are justifiably proud of creating a nation without kings – we’d be his subjects, those who owe him our obedience.

I do not speak of other-worldly matters. It we are subject to Jesus, if we obey him, that is very here and now from my perspective. This means not only that we live our individual lives subject to him but also that we see this world as his Kingdom. Our King is, after all, concerned about the condition of our planet and the well-being of the people who live on it. Our King has spoken again and again about how in his kingdom no one will go hungry, no one will be without shelter or clothing or anything else they need to be human. In this Kingdom, people will live at peace with one another despite their differences, and open their hands and share, labor together to uplift the weak and the thrown-away. That’s why Christmas is not about the sweet-by and by. It’s about God’s invasion of the present messy, warring, bloody, adulterous and broken world - it’s about a Kingdom that came.

Still, there’s this possibility of “Pilate error,” I think, and old Pontius wasn’t the last person to make this mistake - just maybe the first. By John’s account, Pilate was smart enough to recognize goodness when he saw it, and cared enough to show a measure of interest about what Jesus had to say. That sound like anybody you know? Anybody whose teeth you brushed this morning? But in the end, Pilate chose the easy way, preferring to protect the good thing he had going.

Are we willing to risk our own good thing? Or will we fill in our dayplanner the way Pilate did, and just let Jesus fill in around the edges? Every Sunday, we hear Jesus speak about Truth - but what do we then do? Think it over, wash our hands, and go on home?

Christ the King Sunday says there is another way. As a new church year begins next Sunday, and we begin again to talk about Jesus’ birth, remember: he is already with us. He has spoken to us - we have seen his compassion for the sick and the elderly, the incurable and those with pre-existing conditions. He is God’s Love for all the people of this world, and he has been given the final word over pain and death. His authority is enthroned in the very presence of God.

So if Jesus is your King, is my King, then let’s live in obedience to him - not out of duty, not out of routine, but out of the sheer relief that comes with knowing that in Christ, God has loved us first. When we begin to discover that, when we begin to live in response to that, every day is a day for thanksgiving. Every day can then be a holy day - a Christmas day, in the best sense of the word.

Thanks be to God.