It was a sunny day in early January. Our bus from Palermo laboured up the Caputo hill to drop us in Monreale, where, after a short walk, we arrived at the Cathedral of Monreale. Built by the Normans in the 12thcentury and now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, we expected something fabulous; a place to wonder, and worship, and recall with delight in years to come. Our expectation was met.
We entered the nave and gasped. All around us, tessellated walls glowed with ground gold, standing as a canvas for Byzantine-style mosaics. They shimmered—gold, blue, red, green—illuminating the stories of the Old and New Testaments. Creation’s days; Noah making sacrifice; Christ healing; multitudes fed. And all around, angels flew, and saints adored.
The nave’s walls were beauty and wonder enough, but their focal point was the apse mosaic above the main altar. There, surrounded by the apostles and with outstretched arms inviting the viewer, stood the great Christus Pantokrator—Christ Almighty, the Ruler of All. The typical iconographic symbolism was apparent: the open book marking him as a teacher and the high forehead revealing his wisdom. The flowing hair symbolizing eternity. The red garment of his divinity and the blue cloak binding him in humanity. And his eyes—a Ruler of All with eyes that see all and weep; see all and hope; see all with sacrificial love by which the Kingdom of God comes as strength-in-weakness.
On my desk at Wycliffe College sits a reproduction of Monreale’s Christus Pantokrator. Like many of my souvenirs, it is small and inexpensive yet a powerful site of memory. In a two-by-four-inch icon, I see a reminder of All Power witnessed in its beauty that January day.
This diminutive Christ observes me as I turn to the Divine Kingship Psalms, a collection of psalms that tell of the Ruler of All (Pss. 29, 47, 93, 95–99). Most of the collection stands in Book Four of the Psalter (Pss. 90–106) and thus follows Book Three’s conclusion (Ps. 89) that declares the rejection and apparent demise of the Davidic monarchy. One is therefore struck when early in Book Four Psalms 93, 96, 97, and 99 proclaim that “The LORD reigns!” Along with these psalms, Psalms 95 and 98 give the LORD the title of “King.” Venturing further afield, Psalm 29 declares the LORD enthroned and Psalm 47 declares the LORD as King over all the earth. If God’s people read the Psalter with an eye to its progression and themes, after the lament over the lost Davidic monarchy (Ps. 89), the Divine Kingship Psalms in Psalm 93–99 are a reminder of a firmer and everlasting throne, and a certain and powerful monarch.
The Divine Kingship Psalms trace the LORD’s rule in various contexts. He rules over creation and stills the waters (Pss. 29, 93, 95, 96, 98). He demonstrates sovereign power through deliverance and salvation (Pss. 95, 98, 99) and the exercise of justice (Pss. 93, 96, 97, 98, 99). More, while he is sovereign over his own people Israel, his rule extends to all the nations and their kings (Pss. 47, 96, 99). As Ps. 29 reminds us, such a holy and exalted King is one to whom we should “Ascribe. . . the glory due his name and worship in the splendor of his holiness.”
Of course, the Divine Kingship Psalms need a caveat because we live in a world of abusive power. We know too well past and present rule that has trampled justice, disregarded creation, and worked for self-interest. The LORD’s rule is none of that. The Christus Pantokrator attests to power that is real power exercised from all eternity, but power exercised in wisdom, and with full awareness of the sadness of the world.
It is power that is self-giving and does not operate by Realpolitik. It is power intentionally veiled so as to enter the world’s sadness to defeat the kingdoms and powers of the world. The twelfth-century world that produced the Monreale Christus Pantokrator was not too different than our world of abusive power. The crafting of the Christus Pantokrator reflects a daring hope for the exercise of God’s good power. This kind of power is welcome good news and Ps. 96:10 calls us to say among the nation, “The LORD reigns!” Verses 10–13 map out three ways that God’s rule is good news for our world today.
First, verse 10 not only proclaims God’s rule, but that God’s rule firmly establishes the world, making it immovable. Our world is shaken to its core these days: war, famine, greed, climate disasters, obdurate leaders. We need to hear that behind that rattled reality something—Someone—holds it steady and directs it towards the fulfillment of God’s own purposes.
Second, verses 11–12 call non-human creation to celebrate. The heavens, the earth, the seas and fields and their creatures, and the trees “shout for joy” because the LORD rules and is coming to enact justice. We humans need reminding that our praise is only one voice that sends hymns to God. If rocks, animals, and waters celebrate his rule, can we realize that we share God’s purposes with others besides ourselves? And if so, surely that calls us back to the creational mandate to steward carefully this good earth and its inhabitants.
Finally, verses 10 and 13 speak of the coming King’s justice delivered righteously and faithfully. I confess that the world at times feels too complicated to know whose story is true, and what faithfulness and justice look like in disastrous and complex human and international interactions. As Christians, we seek to discern how to act, speak, and respond. Sometimes—but not always— we do so justly. We can aim for justice and righteousness but must acknowledge our failures. For those, we look for the King who will set to rights all that the old world has put awry. This, too, is good news.
The focal point of the Cathedral of Monreale is the Christus Pantokrator. That wondrous work is set in the context of the cathedral’s decorative scheme presenting the story of God’s work from creation to incarnation, from incarnation to eschaton. In this time-bound world, God’s rule can be enacted in our lives and churches that we might proclaim the good news that God does, indeed, rule. In the right time, his rule will be established fully, with none to say “No!” It will be a rule of righteousness and justice that cares for all of creation and directs justly the affairs of humans and nations.
Such a rule truly is something of wonder and beauty. How fortunate that as we await its full arrival, we catch glimpses of the King in unexpected places, even in a small souvenir bought on the steps of Monreale’s cathedral. And with all creation we worship him, ascribing to him the glory due his name.
