Service of the Word: Christ The King

(Read Luke 23.33-43)

Today, we stand at one of the most unique intersections in the liturgical calendar. We have journeyed together through the seasons of Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter. We have celebrated the birth of our Saviour, witnessed his public ministry, stood at the foot of the cross, and rejoiced in the empty tomb. We were filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, and we have lived out the long, green season of ordinary time, walking with Jesus in our daily lives. Now, we arrive at this final, momentous Sunday—Christ the King.

It is a feast that calls us to consider the reign of Jesus Christ. But what kind of king is he?

When we think of a king, our minds often conjure historical images of worldly power. You may be visualising the Hollywood movies of Kings that many of us grew up with—sweeping, glorious cinematic images of a monarch on a throne, adorned with a jewelled crown and a sceptre of authority. We may imagine palaces and armies, wealth and influence.

This is the kind of king the people of Israel were looking for. They sought a messiah who would overthrow the Roman oppressors, restore the kingdom of David, and usher in a new era of earthly glory.

And in a way, they got their wish. Christ is a king, but his kingdom is not of this world.

Our Gospel reading today from Luke chapter 23 gives us a profound, and frankly, shocking image of this kingship.

Jesus is not on a throne; he is on a cross.

His crown is not made of gold and jewels, but of thorns.

His sceptre is not a symbol of power, but the very wood of the cross on which he was crucified.

A cheering army does not surround him, but by jeering soldiers and a hostile crowd.

Christ, beaten, bloodied and in excruciating pain, asks God for forgiveness for his executioners:

‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.’

This powerful statement of forgiveness, compassion, and mercy suggests that Christ believed those who were crucifying him were acting out of ignorance rather than malicious intent, and simply following orders. Asking God for their forgiveness is probably one of the most heartbreaking lines in the entire Bible.

And in the midst of this humiliation, a sign is placed above his head:

"This is the King of the Jews."

The inscription is meant as a mockery, a final act of derision. But it is the most truthful statement ever made about Christ.

And listen to the conversation. The rulers sneer,

"He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!"

Even one of the criminals crucified beside him taunts him,

"Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!"

This is the ultimate test of kingship.

Can he save himself?

Can he call down angels to free him?

Of course he can. But that is not his way. His reign is not one of coercion and force. His kingdom is built on a radical, self-sacrificing love.

But then, we hear the voice of the other criminal. He rebukes his companion and then turns to Jesus, not with a demand, but with a plea born of faith.

"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

And what is Jesus's response? He doesn't lecture him on theology. He doesn't say, "You must first be baptised and go to church." He simply says,

"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

This, my friends, is the heart of Christ's kingship. His crown is his sacrifice. His throne is the cross. And his power is not in what he takes, but in what he gives. He is a king who rules not from a place of power, but from a place of love and mercy.

He is a king who remembers the forgotten. A king who welcomes the outcast. A king who forgives the sinner, even in his final moments on the cross. His kingdom is a kingdom of grace, of inclusion, of unmerited mercy.

So what does this mean for us, as modern-day Christians, as we reflect on Christ the King? It means that our allegiance is not to the ways of this world, with its systems of power, wealth, and status. Our allegiance is to a different kind of king, a different kind of kingdom.

It means that we are called to live as subjects of Christ the King. This is not a passive role by any means. It is a call to decisive action. We are called to embody his values in all our lives. We are called to serve others, especially the poor, the marginalised, and the forgotten. We are called as Christians to forgive those who have wronged us, just as he forgave those who nailed him to the cross. We are called to love, even when it is difficult.

It is the cornerstone of our faith.

Love, mercy, and forgiveness.

Let us not be like the crowd that wanted a king who would conquer their enemies. Let us not be like the soldiers who mocked him. Instead, let us be like the penitent thief. Let us look to the crucified Christ and, in the face of our own brokenness and sin, say,

"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

And let us trust in his promise: that today, and always, we will be with him in Paradise.

Amen.

A.L.D 25