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"Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?"
Matthew 2:2

I met King Jesus last week at the Sports-Med health club in Carol Stream, Illinois.

I was coming from a hospital visit with a friend, heading toward my office for a 9:30 a.m. appointment. I was to meet with the president of the company that's publishing my next book. I had timed my morning carefully, so I would have just enough time to visit my friend, drive to work, scoot into the parking lot, and walk into my office with a couple of minutes to spare.

But on the way from the hospital, I realized I was running five minutes early. Sports-Med is about two blocks from my office. I calculated that I had just enough time to clear up a billing issue, so I pulled into the parking lot, bolted through the doors, turned the corner to step up to the billing window—and saw that somebody was standing there talking to the attendant. I checked my irritation, and then, as if in answer to prayer, this man and the attendant each said "Thank you," signaling they were done. The man turned around, offering me a pleasant smile and a "Good morning!" I gave him my I'm-in-a-hurry-but-let-me-try-to-look-gracious smile and greeted him in return.

When I finished with the attendant, I turned around to walk past the receptionist's desk. I noticed the same man standing there. He wore a threadbare sports coat, wrinkled pants, and a calm countenance. He looked me in the eye and, with another warm smile, asked in an African accent, "You wouldn't happen to be going by Wheaton College, would you? I could use a ride."

The season of Advent is about preparing for the birth of the King of Kings. The season of Christmas is about welcoming him: "Joy to the World, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king!" During this time of year, many are asking the same question the wise men asked long ago: "Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?" (Matt. 2:2, ESV).

So where is this King? What does this King look like? How does he make himself known to us today as King?

The problem for Americans is that we have no idea what a king is. I lived in Sacramento for a time, which has a basketball team called the Sacramento Kings. And when I was a boy, I played "king of the hill." There's also a little plastic figure I move around on a chessboard called a king. About the only bit of royalty we have in America is a certain rock star from the 1950s and 1960s, "the king." I suspect that none of these kings will be much help in spotting "he who has been born king of the Jews."

We've done enough reading—of The Lord of the Rings, the Narnia series, and so forth—to at least figure out that a king is political figure who deserves our honor and obedience. But I suspect we each harbor a subconscious image of Christ as King that actually makes it harder, not easier, to honor and obey him.

For example, I suspect we sometimes think of Jesus as though he were King Herod the Despot. Herod murdered one of his wives. He executed John the Baptist to please a houseguest. He taxed people oppressively and then dispatched soldiers to beat anyone who protested his rule. He even slaughtered every baby boy in Bethlehem, because he was threatened by a rumor about the royal future of one of those boys. In other words, Herod had power and authority, yet he did not use them for good.

Let's admit it: Sometimes King Jesus, who has undisputed power and authority, seems as if he were up to no good. A scan of the morning paper reveals, once again, a dreary liturgy of heartache: Innocents slaughtered by a terrorist's bomb or AIDS or forgotten landmines or the latest tsunami or earthquake of biblical proportions. No, we don't believe King Jesus instigated these modern-day Bethlehem massacres, but we have been taught he has the power and authority to stop them. When he doesn't stop them, we are tempted to think he's no better than King Herod the Despot. Naturally, we're not enthusiastic about honoring or obeying that type of king.

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December (Web-only) 2006, Vol. 50