Christos Pantokrator

Revelation 16:7

I want to introduce you to a new word—PANTOKRATOR. It is Greek. It appears throughout the book of Revelation and Paul used it in the great Christological hymn (cf. Ph. 2:5-11). It came to be a foundational term for understanding Jesus in the Eastern Orthodox family of Christianity. What it means is Lord Almighty. Used as a description of Jesus, it immediately reveals the power of our simple affirmation that Jesus is Lord. 

But what does it really mean? What does it mean for us in ordinary time?

Christ is Almighty.

Sadly, in our context this is more often than not an expletive. We loudly proclaim this good news when we are really, really angry or really, really frustrated with what someone has done. Bill Cosby once laughed that for years, he thought his name was “Christ” and his brother’s name was “Almighty” because every time their father spoke to them, that started the conversation.

So, we need to find our way back into the true meaning of this affirmation of Christ’s identity. 

We begin by falling into the word PANTOKRATOR. Literally, it means all power—pan: all; krator: power. There is no power not subsumed into the being of Christ. There is nothing that can overwhelm the power of Christ. There is nothing that can thwart the will of Christ. Romans 8 ends with one of the greatest affirmations of Christos Pantokrator—there is nothing in all creation—NOTHING—that can separate us from the love of God revealed in Christ Jesus.

That is powerfully good news.

For us, it means that in whatever we face, Christ’s power can rule that moment. 

What tremendous hope for us to carry with us everywhere we go. As we face the conundrums and trials of daily existence, Christ’s power can carry us. Remember that when you have just had an explosive blow-up with your beloved—Christ’s power can redeem you both from your anger. Remember that when you next fall ill—Christ’s power ensures that the illness is momentary—it has no ultimate sway. Remember that when you next run headlong into human power run amok—like trying to negotiate with a government agency—Christ’s power makes theirs laughable—they cannot touch what is truly you. 

Moreover, Christ’s power is not abject power—power for its own sake. Human beings all too readily practice power for power. We get a position of authority and it goes straight to our heads. Next thing you know, we are telling everybody what to do, how to do it, and acting like we make no mistakes in ordering everybody around. Not with Christ. Christ’s power is the power of self-emptying. It is power that descends to us. Christ does not fix himself aloof from us, then expecting us to climb to him—no, the exact opposite occurs—Christ sees us, experiences who and what we are, then descends to us, going so far, says the Apostles’ Creed, to hell itself to save us all. This self-emptying overcomes all else with the presence of God, which is also the presence of God’s love which is the source of all that is, including us. 

Pause. Breathe. Take that in. It’s a lot to get one’s heart and mind around. Let it settle.

Christ’s power that goes with us is the power of love. That means, as we run through those common experiences again, that Christ’s love sets the stage for embattled beloveds to reconcile, rediscovering the love that binds them; Christ’s love is healing, overcoming illness of every sort with comfort, care, and reclamation; Christ’s love overwhelms all human powers because it redeems all victimized by power run amok—it can bring a Samaritan back into the circle of grace; it can restore a leper to full communion with everyone else; it can turn a bureaucrat into an apostle—that is how Christ’s power meets us and carries us through each day.

But beyond problem solving, Christ’s power meets us in making ordinary time holy time. 

This week, we experience a great celebration of family. Thanksgiving Day is one of the best things we Americans ever made a part of our collective culture—a day set aside to note the blessings, graces, and affirmations that meet us through the year. It is a day to gather together and ask the Lord’s blessing, as the old hymn sings. Because of Christ’s power that is also Christ’s love, a meal becomes sacred time. We gather around the table with collection of sinners and saints we call our own. There is Uncle Louie who always decides the family meal is the time to argue politics, knowing that his nieces and nephews are 180 degrees removed from his positions. There is Aunt Margaret who has made a science of manipulation. There is Grandma who can’t hear a blessed thing and always, loudly, says something better left unsaid. There are Mom and Dad who muddle through. On around the circle it goes. But, a miracle is available. As the circle forms, stop, be quiet, don’t say a word. Take in the faces and spaces. Note the absences. Celebrate those present. Look at this melange of human beings. Love brought them together (even when they don’t act like it). Ask Christ to enter the circle. Ask Christ to form the circle. Let the eyes of Christ allow each to see the other in the fresh perspective of Christ’s redeeming grace. Maybe Louie will treasure his nieces and nephews differently, seeing that they choose—they CHOOSE—to still eat with him. Maybe Aunt Margaret will understand that she does not need to wheedle love from these people—they love her already. Maybe Mom and Dad will see they are good enough—not perfect, but good enough—this is a good family, after all. Each person may find the grace to be. 

That is the power of Christ. Look at the ridiculous collection of sinners and saints he gathered with him in the upper room for another family feast—a tax collector, a terrorist, a bunch of rough-and-ready fishermen, a blowhard, “Sons of Thunder,” a cynical skeptic, a man torn asunder by the need to make things happen, and a remainder of hangers-on who really don’t know why they are at that table. If he could make that gathering a circle of grace, he certainly has the power to lay the foundation for our own circle.

And that is the only true and actual definition of almighty we need. 

Christos Pantokrator—allow that terminology to enter your personal lexicon. Allow it to lead into hope beyond hope. Allow it to offer you comfort beyond comfort. Allow it to lay the foundation for the coming together of your family. Allow it to lead you through the muddle of every day. Allow Christ Jesus to reign over you, over us all, so we might find glory—the glory of God.

Give thanks to the Lord, for God is good, God’s love reigns forever and ever.