Christ the King

Different Cultures and people have varied perceptions and feelings about kings. The United Kingdom holds the tradition of a revered loyalty to the monarchy and although queens and kings do not have a great deal of power, they do have influence and are largely respected by the population.

The monarchy of France lasted until 1870 and its legacy is now in its art and architecture. It was marked by conflict and eventually revolution. Here in the United states our forefathers declared independence from what they experienced as the tyranny of George the third. In our present political arena, we see a revulsion for the notion of a king resulting in a large number of protests.

Yet here, at the end of the church’s year, we are celebrating the “Reign of Christ”—the feast of Christ the King. And you would think that the scripture would portray Christ in glory—sitting on the throne, attended by angels, and in charge of our destiny. But that isn’t what we get. The Gospel we heard affirms that Jesus is God’s Chosen One, but in very different terms. The kingship of Jesus is expressed through the Cross.

We find three key characteristics of that kingdom in this Gospel: Radical welcome, reconciliation, and forgiveness. We find a dying Jesus in pain and humiliation welcoming a remorseful criminal into Paradise. We find him offering him the precious gifts of reconciliation and forgiveness—so sparse in today’s world.

What kind of King is this? His kingdom appears marginalized, small, and insignificant. He is the king who is beaten and crucified. His throne is the cross. He rules through suffering love. His friends are not the commanding and powerful—those in high places—but rather those whom the world regards as unimportant—even expendable.

Here is a very different kind of king, a very different kind of kingdom, a very different kind of reign, a very different kind of power—because it is tied to the living God and the ways of that living God rather than to the ways of the world and its norms.

So today, in the scripture, we don’t find Christ the King at the top, but at the bottom; not in the company of the angels, but in the company of criminals; not sitting on a throne but hanging on a cross.

What is so miraculous, is that there are so many citizens of this kingdom who honor the Christ, whose life and actions conform to the plans and purposes of this ruler, who are committed to the foolishness of the cross rather than the wisdom of the world. That is truly amazing because God’s Kingdom is counter-cultural and, seen through the eyes and standards of the world, makes little sense.

We are people of the covenant and people of the covenant may be overwhelmed by tragedy, heartbreak, violence, and despair—but we are always in search of the Good News and always hopeful. And so we gather here.

We open up the scriptures, listen and think on the word, tell the story, and examine our lives in the light of this peculiar understanding of our King—the king on the cross.

How do we associate Jesus with any kind of royal titles or sense of monarchy? How do we call someone a king when we know he was opposed to any kind of hierarchical structure and who taught that the mighty would be made low and the humble exalted, that the first would come last and the last first.

How do we connect Jesus with a title that is so undemocratic, so politically incorrect? How do we talk of kingship when we have heard Jesus preach the gospel of servanthood over domination? Even from a purely physical point of view, evidence suggests that he was all of about 5 feet 3 inches and, considering his ascetic lifestyle, a lean 110 pounds. How do we identify this person with such lofty titles as “King of kings and Lord of lords?”

Yet this is the kind of “king” we honor today and this is the life and ethos of his kingdom—a place where we share one another’s struggles and condition and, by our willingness to welcome, stay in conversation, come to God’s table together with all our differences, become the instruments of each other’s healing and life transformation.

Writing in The Christian Century, Lutheran Pastor Mary W. Anderson, offers this reflection on this feast: “We are Christ’s people—we share the same Eucharistic foods, we share the same story of faith, we stake our lives on the same hopes.

Here at the end of the church year, after living through another cycle of hearing the story of Jesus’ life, of being taught by him in miracle and parable, we come to the coda of this hymn of praise.

After another year of living our lives, burying our dead, baptizing, marrying and divorcing, struggling and thriving, we bring all of the year’s experiences to the climax of this day. We lay it all back at the feet of the one enthroned on the cross, giving thanks. It’s great to be a people ruled in love and mercy.”