The Cruciform Example Amid Widespread Allegiance to Caesar

The Cruciform Example Amid Widespread Allegiance to Caesar

 In the ongoing discussion about how we ought to posture ourselves during this very strange time in our American history, I want this week to counter the loudest voices as to how we should be Christian today. I want to show that what we are seeing is not a Christianity understood by our grandparents or even the Christianity of our founding parents. Instead, it is a mix of poor theology, nationalistic political ideology and a capitalization of the scarcity mindset. It is not cruciform example Jesus set for us.  

By cruciform example, I am referring to the way Jesus modeled a life shaped by the cross—a life not driven by power, recognition, or self-preservation, but by sacrificial love and humble obedience. In contrast to the prevailing winds of cultural Christianity that urge us to seek influence or align ourselves with earthly authorities, the cruciform path calls us to embrace God’s timing, surrender self-interest, and embody radical humility. This example stands as a quiet yet powerful challenge to the temptation of bowing at the altar of Caesar and invites us to rediscover what it truly means to follow Christ in a divided and distracted age. 

In this post, I will be exploring kenosis or self – emptying humility, Kairos or God’s timing and Kenesis – self – emptying action as a radical alternative to the posture being pushed by the popular agenda here in America.  

Kairos: Embracing God’s Timing Over Cultural Expediency 

Kairos is the appointed, divine moment. In essence, for the sake of the Christian faith, God’s time. God takes time and sometimes we are not okay with this. We have a model in Jesus whose patience and discernment clashes with our current rush for power or acceptance. In our contemporary context, we are tempted to want to rush God for answers or even substitute discernment for expedience, often seeking immediate validation rather than patiently awaiting the fullness of God’s purposes. The cruciform example, however, challenges us to resist the pressure to conform to the dominant narratives of power and popularity, inviting us instead into a deeper trust in God’s unfolding story—a story that values faithfulness over fleeting success and invites us to participate in moments that are shaped neither by anxiety nor ambition, but by a steadfast hope rooted in Christ’s own journey to the cross. Reflecting on John Wesley, he affirms this posture by emphasizing the concept of “kairos” as a significant moment in time when God acts decisively, contrasting it with “chronos,” which refers to chronological time. He believed that recognizing these kairos moments is essential for effective leadership and spiritual growth within the Methodist movement. 

We miss Kairos moments when we seek immediacy and worldly approval. This is perhaps why I love being a therapist and a pastor and love my time in the outdoors. Sitting with people and sitting in creation in an open and mindful way, discerning God’s presence and timing has allowed a deeper relationship with God and the people and creation around me. When Christians become fixated on garnering approval from society or influential figures, they often overlook the subtle invitations of kairos—the divine moments where God’s purposes are quietly unfolding. Whether it’s the temptation to adopt prevailing political stances for acceptance, or the urge to rush into decisions for the sake of relevance or popularity, these choices can cause us to miss opportunities for authentic transformation and faithful witness. By prioritizing cultural expediency over spiritual discernment, we risk trading the richness of God’s timing for the fleeting rewards of worldly affirmation, ultimately distancing ourselves from the deeper story God is writing in and through our lives. 

Kenesis: The Active Self-Emptying of Jesus 

I will be honest, before doing some work on this blog post, I never gave any real thought to the idea of kenesis, I actually realized that I conflated it with kenosis. It makes me wonder how many others have done this. When we think of kenesis, we are looking at the dynamic, sacrifical action of Jesus. From a theological perspective, this centers on the doctrine of atonement, which is a deeply significant and often debated topic. 

Considering the last scapegoat theory, we see in Jesus, actions that are shaped by service and sacrifice rather than self-promotion. “In Jesus going to the cross, he put on full display the lengths the Jewish religious officials, and the Roman government would go to control the population. In his death, people’s minds were changed, and this change would begin the gradual downfall of the Roman empire, the destruction of the temple, all which Jesus predicted. In a more practical sense, Jesus as the last scapegoat demonstrated God’s solidarity with all peoples that society pushed to the margins. Those who are blamed for society’s ills. Christ’s love on the cross is a statement that there are no more scapegoats. “There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.  And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise. (Galatians 3:28-29).”  

If we then contrast this with a modern Christian posture that prioritizes influence, status or self-preservation, we begin to see a stark divergence from the cruciform model Jesus embodied. Today, we have moved away from the self-giving love and solidarity with the other and we instead pursue worldly validation, fear and hatred. This has created a tremendous loss of the radical hospitality that characterized Christ’s ministry. The call of kenesis, then, is not simply to act, but to act in ways that reflect the costly love of Jesus—laying aside personal gain, comfort, or prestige for the sake of others. In this challenge we ourselves are not just challenged, but also the collective witness of the church. We are invited to mirror the sacrificial pattern set by Christ. When we do not, we echo the very systems of power and privilege he subverted through his life, death, and resurrection. 

Kenosis: The Posture of Humility 

I wrote about Christian perfection in a post a few posts back, here, reflecting on John Wesely’s notion. Here, I offered perfection is the “process of achieving spiritual maturity and union with God, characterized by love and personal holiness. In contrast, pride is often seen as a barrier to this perfection, as it can lead to self-righteousness and a lack of humility, which are contrary to the teachings of Jesus.”  

“For John Wesley, perfection represented an aspirational goal rather than an endpoint; he consistently pursued it throughout his life. Unlike the common misconception—or, in clinical terms, the pathological manifestation—of perfectionism, Wesley’s concept of Christian perfection was not rooted in flawless knowledge. He acknowledged that Christians would continue to experience ignorance and make mistakes. This perfection did not imply freedom from human infirmities; individuals would retain weaknesses in understanding, imagination, and minor imperfections in speech or behavior.” 

Perfection, like humility is a process of becoming. Chapter 7 of the Rule of Saint Benedict lays out the posture Benedictines must take when considering humility. We never arrive fully, but are always on the path towards it.  

Reflecting on Philippians 2:5-8, we encounter the attitude of kenosis or the posture of self-emptying humility. Here, we are not simply called to admire Christ for his humility, but to actively adopt it in our own lives. It becomes a live of service, vulnerability and bowing in obedience to God. It is a process of letting go. Life then is one thousand moments of letting go and often putting others needs before our own. It embraces the discomfort of loving sacrificially. We are challenged to examine our pride, fear and ambitions through the lens of surrender and witnessing to the Christ nature in others.  

When we adopt a kenotic mindset, our churches and our communities become a seat in the public square of self-emptying humility. Our communities become places of radical welcome, forgiveness, and unity. They resist the temptation to wield influence for their own gain and instead become beacons of Christ’s love, prioritizing the marginalized and overlooked. In this way, kenosis is not just a personal virtue but a collective calling that transforms how we engage with one another and the world around us. 

Conclusion 

To close, the cruciform example of Jesus radically subverts the dominant narrative of allegiance to worldly power, inviting us instead into a life marked by sacrificial love, humility, and active participation in God’s redemptive story. Rather than seeking approval, influence, or comfort, the way of the cross calls us to relinquish self-interest and resist the allure of cultural expediency, demonstrating a faith that is deeply rooted in God’s timing and purposes. This path stands as a living critique of the temptation to “bow to Caesar,” whether that Caesar is political, cultural, or personal ambition, and beckons us to embody the transforming power of Christ’s self-emptying love in our everyday interactions and commitments. 

Let me issue a challenge to reflect on our words and actions as we watch the news, especially what is fed to us in our social media feeds. In our feeds, we are often given sound bites and the titles of many news stories are traps that are set to catch our emotions. Impulsively, we feel an emotion stirred up in us and instead of taking a step back, we take a step forward, often reacting to the words and actions in the soundbite or the article, often failing to fully digest and read further.  

Let us consider being like Jesus and consider mindfully and with humility how we can be the Christ presence for our communities.  

 


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