Reflection by the Rev'd Dr. Deborah Broome

Christ the King: A Throne Made of Wood

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. [[Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”]] And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by watching, but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”                    Luke 23:33-43

As the church year draws to a close, we celebrate the feast of Christ the King.  But what does that mean in a world where kingship feels remote?  We live under a constitutional monarchy where the sovereign is far away and wields little real power.  Or we think of presidents and dictators – figures who cling to control.  No wonder many of us distrust power.  So what does it mean to worship Christ as King?

Augustine of Hippo, writing 1,600 years ago, reminds us that God is the source of all power. Every human exercise of power is only a faint echo of God’s own.  And in Christ, we see what divine power looks like: not domination, but love. Not coercion, but reconciliation. God’s power creates, sustains, and heals.

Luke’s Gospel gives us the most startling picture of kingship.  Jesus hangs on a cross, and above his head, a sign reads: “This is the King of the Jews.”  Soldiers mock him: “If you are the king, save yourself!”  Religious leaders scoff.  Even one of the criminals joins in the taunts.  This isn’t the kingship we expect.  No crown of gold, no palace, no army.  Just a man stripped, beaten, and nailed to wood.  Yet this is the moment when Christ comes into his kingdom.  From our vantage point we can appreciate the irony – but if you’re more used to the idea of kingship as exercising power over others this is strange.

It takes the other criminal to see it: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus replies: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”  Here is a king who forgives, who welcomes the broken, who stands in solidarity with suffering.  Who knows vulnerability from the inside.  A king who refuses to save himself because his mission is to save others.  A king whose power is mercy.

Christ’s kingship isn’t about crowns and palaces – it’s about reconciliation and grace. It challenges our assumptions about power.  In a world where power is often used to dominate, Christ uses power to heal. 

Asking “what kind of a king is Jesus, and what kind of a kingdom does he have?” is one way of looking at today.  Another way is to ask, “what kind of church should we be, and how does each of us exercise the power that we have?”  In our workplaces, homes, and communities, do we use influence to try to control – or to bring life?  Do we stand alongside those who suffer?  Do we offer forgiveness and radical grace? 

This week, let’s look for one situation where we can use your influence to heal rather than to dominate.  And maybe make this prayer our own—the words of a man who saw hope even in his brokenness:  “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”