The Shiny Kingdoms

The Shiny Kingdoms

If someone offered you “the kingdoms of the world” today, what would that look like for you?

“Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.’ Then Jesus said to him, ‘Be gone, Satan! For it is written, “You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.”’”

Matthew 4:8–10

The kingdom temptation isn’t just “out there.” It’s the current and real temptation to believe that the powers of this world can save us.

We can end up playing the same part many were playing in the time of Jesus—and even in the time of Saul, the first king of Israel. The expectation was that the Messiah would be a powerful political figure, with worldly strength and the ability to take power from the ruthless rulers of the day—leaders who treated the Jews and others with immense hate and disdain. It makes sense. When we think of being saved from Game of Thrones–like politics, we want a ruler who’s more powerful, more vicious, more domineering—so we can finally be on the side of strength and control.

But Jesus? He came as the exact opposite.

He—the proclaimed Son of God and Messiah—came to live what radical inclusion and God’s love were meant to look like in the midst of chaos and power-hungry leadership. He served. He wept. He healed. He delivered. He touched the untouchable. He disrupted centuries-old religious traditions to comfort the sick and the needy. He gathered with the marginalized. He made extremely flawed men and women part of his deepest inner circle. He cried out in prayer. He led. He resisted temptation. He was murdered. 

Today, we seek the same power and the same need for control. A powerful political leader who can keep us safe and crush our perceived enemies within and throughout. A smooth-talking preacher with money and influence. The richest in the world to give us guidance on what the future of humanity—and our own livelihood—might look like.

And yet… Jesus—the Son of God, Messiah, Creator of the world—said no.

No to power.

No to ruling.

No to domination.

No to riches.

No to fame.

No to the bigger platform.

He said no to the shiny objects we put our faith in—and yes to the outcast. Yes to the broken. Yes to the thief next to him on the cross. Yes to the culturally untouchable. Yes to the adulterous woman. Yes to the men who betrayed him.

He said yes to much of what we’ve been trained to say no to—and no to what we believe would change the world if we ever got the chance to say yes.

ANY of us can worship the crown while we claim we’re chasing the kingdom.

But it comes down to simple yeses and nos.

So what are our yeses and nos? What are we hoping would happen if we just had the opportunity of a lifetime to say yes—if we just had enough power, or influence?

All the while, if we open our eyes, we would see the Creator has already given it to us. The Creator has given us love. Given us joy. Given us peace. Given us patience. Given us kindness. Given us goodness. Given us gentleness. Given us faithfulness. And the Creator has given us self-control.

Each of these has the power to change the broken pieces in and around us.

To change your mind.

Change your heart.

Change your point of view.

Change your focus.

Change your relationships.

Change your neighborhood.

Change your community.

Change your state.

Change your nation.

Change your world.

Jesus, in his most vulnerable moment, was able to say no to all the power in the world because he knew the power from above is rooted in truth—and it’s actual power. Everything else is a hollow pursuit that leads to disaster and devastation.

What are you waiting for?

What if the power you’re waiting for is the kind you’re already carrying?

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