Yes, I do worship a guy they killed. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t stay dead, does that make it less zombie-riffic?
Luke 23:33-43; Colossians 1:11-20; Psalm 46; Jeremiah 23:1-6
At first glance, this seems like a really odd gospel lesson for Christ the King Sunday. Today is supposed to be like the New Years’ Eve of the church year — the last party before everything starts over again in Advent. But instead, we get the crucifixion. It seems like the absolute least kingly thing Jesus could do. Most of the time we don’t think of kings hanging on a cross being made fun of by all those around him. We especially don’t want to think of the King of kings acting that way.
Oftentimes we don’t find ourselves thinking that way. We’re so used to talking about Christ crucified that we forget who absolutely unexpectedly insane it all looks. When want to think about Christ the King in the way the prophet Jeremiah describes him: “A King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land. In his days [we] will be saved and [we] will live in safety. This is the name by which he will be called: The LORD Our Righteousness.” We expect him to rule wisely, for he is God incarnate. We expect him to do thing justly and rightly, because his rule is God’s rule. We want him to protect us and keep us safe, because that’s what he teaches — that God loves and cares for his children.
How can Jesus do anything like that on the cross? Justice failed him completely — he was subject to a borderline illegal sham trial — and no amount of wisdom and good sense could get him out of the situation. The people’s mockery feels altogether too truthful: “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the Christ of God, the Chosen One!” How can we not offer the same criticism? If Jesus can’t save himself from death, how in the world can he possibly save himself? Jesus on the cross is the antithesis of kingliness — he is completely, and utterly powerless.
We think to ourselves, “what madness is this!” The image of the invisible God shouldn’t be nailed to a cross. The firstborn over all creation deserves a better inheritance than to be left to die between two thieves. The one through and by whom the whole world was made, shouldn’t be left to the machinations of a handful of men whose feelings he hurt by telling them the truth. If he is before all things, and the one who holds everything together — he SHOULD have saved himself. I mean, really, the fullness of God dwells in him — why in the world would he be so dumb as to get himself crucified.
And yet, that was all the point. Jesus never made any secret of his purpose on earth — he was going to be betrayed into the hands of the chief priests and teachers of the law, hung on a cross, die, and three days later rise again. The disciples always seemed to miss it though, either not really hearing it, or just chalking it up to “crazy Jesus talk”. Yet the cross was always Jesus goal.
But you might be thinking now, “This sounds a lot more like a Good Friday sermon than a Christ the King sermon.” The crucifixion and Christ’s eternal reign are linked it amazing ways. I contend that it is Jesus’ death on the cross and subsequent resurrection that solidified his status as King of kings and Lord of lords. His coronation was not the resplendent affair it should have been, instead it was mockery — with the crown of thorns and a purple robe — yet it was no less truthful. The thief on the cross next to him recognized his kingship, asking, “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom”. Indeed it all fits with Jeremiah’s description of what the eternal king will do: Jesus, on the cross paid the price for our salvation. That’s really what the king was going to do — save God’s people from themselves. Paul’s letter to the Colossians says as much: God was pleased to, through Christ, reconcile all things to himself by making peace through Jesus’ blood, shed on the cross”
So on this Christ the King Sunday, think of this King who died for our sake. How many kings, presidents, or prime ministers do you think would be willing to die for you, and I don’t mean you in the plural sense. And then how many would do it in one of the more unpleasant ways possible. Our King would, and did. And by doing so paid the price for our sins, once for all, so that we could have eternal life.