On this Christ the King Sunday, the Lectionary gives us a Gospel text that is almost shocking in its contrast to what we imagine kingship to be. Luke does not show us a king on a throne, robed in splendour, surrounded by loyal nobles. Luke shows us a king on a cross. A king mocked and stripped. A king struggled with the persecuted. A king whose crown is thorns. A king whose throne is a Roman instrument of torture and execution.
And in doing so, Luke reminds us what the king who reigns forever actually looks like.
We need this reminder, because if we are honest, we often imagine a God who resembles the kings and rulers of our world—strong, commanding, wielding power from above. Sometimes we imagine God like a mighty dictator, who simply enforces his will and secures his own interests. But the Gospel of Luke shatters that expectation.
The King whom God appoints is not the king of empire.
He is the king of self-giving love.
He is the king who refuses to save himself in order to save others.
He is the king whose power is revealed in mercy, healing, truth-telling, and sacrifice.
This is the king who reigns forever.
This is the king Jeremiah longed for—One who rules with justice and righteousness.
And this king appears not on a marble throne, but on a cross between criminals.
The Cross Reveals What Kind of King Jesus Is
The soldiers mock him: “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!”
One criminal mocks him: “Save yourself—and us!”
Everybody in that moment assumes that power looks like escape, domination, and self-protection.
But Jesus does not save himself.
He saves others.
And this is the revelation Luke gives us: the king who reigns is the king who gives his life for the liberation of the people he loves.
The cross is not a sign of divine weakness.
It is a revelation of divine loyalty—loyalty to the oppressed, the crushed, the violated, and the suffered.
Christ the King and Today’s Martyrs for Justice
And when we see Christ the King in this way—not as a dictator but as a liberator—the Gospel immediately begins to speak into our world.
Because Christ the King looks a lot like the people who have died fighting for freedom, liberation, and dignity—dignity of every human being and of the whole creation. The cross reveals the world’s injustice. It unveils the truth about systems of violence. Jesus’ death exposes empire. It exposes corrupt power. It exposes leaders, the “shepherds,” who scatter and destroy the flock instead of protecting it.
When we remember Christ the King crucified, we are also reminded of the martyrs of our time:
– the activists who sacrificed their lives for civil rights,
– the women and men who died fighting for democracy,
– the indigenous leaders killed for protecting their land,
– the nameless migrants who perished seeking safety,
– the journalists silenced for speaking truth,
– the oppressed who died simply because they dared to be free.
Christ’s cross stands among them.
Not because their deaths save us—
but because their deaths, like Jesus’s, reveal the brutality of unjust systems.
Christ the King is not the king of those who dominate;
Christ is the king of those who suffer unjustly.
Christ is the king of the crucified.
Yet This King Does Not Call Us to Despair—But to Action
Jeremiah’s prophecy was directed toward kings and leaders who failed the people through corruption, oppression, and indifference. God’s judgment was fierce: “You have scattered my flock … you have not attended to them.” But God did more than condemn injustice: God promised a righteous shepherd who would restore what was broken.
Christians see that righteous shepherd in Jesus—
the one who gathers the lost, strengthens the weak, and refuses to abandon even those who hung beside him on a cross.
But Jesus does more than reveal injustice.
He also calls forth a community—the people of God, the Church—capable of resisting it. This is the activist side of our faith.
Grace is a gift, but it is not passive.
Grace is a call to action.
Because God has gathered us, we are sent to gather.
Because God has forgiven us, we are sent to forgive.
Because God has shown justice and righteousness, we are sent to enact justice and righteousness.
Because Christ the King reigns not by force but by compassion, we are freed to live with courage.
So Let Me Ask You…
What do you truly care about?
Not in theory, not in abstraction—
but in this community,
in this society,
outside your own household?
What injustice breaks your heart?
What suffering makes you restless?
What broken system makes you angry?
Where do you see people scattered, silenced, overlooked—like sheep without a shepherd?
Too often, the church has imagined faith as something internal, private, or merely spiritual. But Jeremiah and Luke do not share that kind of faith. Our King is not enthroned away from the world but crucified in the world—and raised to life for the world we live.
So let us ask the deeper question:
How can we make Christ the King, our King—
and the King of a world entangled in evil and suffering?
We make Christ our King not by sentiment, but by practice.
Not by reciting creeds, but by embodying them.
Not by worshipping Christ alone, but by following him where he leads.
We make Christ King—
when we stand with those who suffer violence,
when we defend those who are targeted for their race, gender, identity, or poverty,
when we speak truth to leaders who scatter instead of gather,
when we show up for the marginalised,
when we fight for policies that protect the vulnerable,
when we give our lives, in big and small ways, to the common good.
What we proclaim the good news of the crucified King is active discipleship.
This is the politics of the kingdom of God—
the politics of compassion, liberation, and costly love.
The Days Are Surely Coming
Jeremiah ends with a promise:
“The days are surely coming,” says the Lord,
“when a righteous Branch will reign as king…
and God’s people shall dwell secure.”
We are not yet in those days.
But Christ the King has already revealed what the kingdom looks like.
And the Spirit has already empowered us to embody it.
So let us follow the King who does not rule by domination,
but by love.
Let us walk with the King who stands with the crucified.
Let us serve the King who gathers the remnant, heals the broken,
and brings justice to the forgotten.
And may his reign begin here in us today.