Readings

Colossians 1.11–20 – May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Luke 23.33–43 – 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 into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’

Sermon

The crucifixion in November? What’s that all about? I think you’d be forgiven for asking the question on this day that we call the Feast of Christ the King. And I completely understand the question being asked. It seems strange that on the last Sunday of the church year we are again watching Jesus on the cross. Most of us are probably already focusing on Christmas. Besides we’ve already heard the Good Friday story once this year and that’s usually enough for most of us. Why do we need to hear it again?

Maybe we need to hear it again because the injustice and violence revealed in today’s gospel are an everyday occurrence in our lives and the world. Maybe we need to hear it again because we too often and too easily ignore or accommodate that injustice and violence.

So today, on the Feast of Christ the King, the Church draws our eyes to the true nature of Christ’s kingship. It is a kingship unlike any other the world has known—a kingship revealed not through conquest or splendour, but through reconciliation, mercy, and self-giving love.

Our readings hold these truths before us with vivid clarity.

In Colossians, St Paul paints a breathtaking portrait of Christ:
“He is the image of the invisible God…”
“In him all things hold together…”
“Through him God was pleased to reconcile all things.”

These are words full of cosmic grandeur. Christ is the One through whom all creation came into being. He is before all things; he is the head of the Church; he is the fullness of God dwelling among us as one of us. If ever there were a passage meant to lift our hearts in awe, it is this one. Christ is King not simply over a nation or a people, but over the whole universe.

And yet—having heard this majestic vision—we then turn to Luke’s Gospel, and we find this King enthroned on a cross.

There he hangs between two criminals, exposed to ridicule and agony. The leaders sneer, the soldiers mock, and one of the criminals hurls insults. The sign above his head reads “This is the King of the Jews”—intended as a taunt, but truer than anyone realised.

Here, at the place called The Skull, two visions of kingship collide.
The world expects kings to rule with power; Christ rules with sacrifice.
The world expects kings to be served; Christ serves.
The world expects kings to save themselves; Christ saves others.

And it is in this place of suffering that we witness one of the most beautiful moments in all of Scripture. One of the criminals turns to Jesus and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” In those few words he recognises something far greater than the scene of defeat before him. He sees a King whose kingdom is not abolished by death, but established through it.

Jesus replies, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
It is a royal proclamation—an announcement of mercy, restoration, and welcome.

This is what Christ’s kingship looks like:
A King who will not turn away even from a dying criminal.
A King whose authority is expressed through forgiveness.
A King who conquers not by inflicting suffering, but by bearing it.

When St Paul speaks in Colossians of God reconciling all things—making peace through the blood of the cross—it is this moment on Calvary that reveals how that reconciliation is accomplished. Christ the King gathers the lost, breaks the power of sin, and opens the way to life by giving himself fully and freely for the world he loves.

So what does this mean for us, as we celebrate this feast?

First, it reminds us that Christ’s kingdom is not built on the values that often dominate our society—ambition, status, self-protection—but on compassion, justice, and humility. To serve this King is to let go of the need to be first, to win, or to appear strong. It is to follow the way of mercy.

Second, it invites us to trust. Colossians tells us that in Christ all things hold together. Even when the world feels chaotic – and it surely does right now, – even when our own lives feel fragile, Christ remains sovereign. His kingship is not threatened by the darkness around us. He holds us, and he holds creation, in hands marked by sacrifice.

And finally, this feast invites us to hope. The criminal on the cross had nothing to offer—no record of achievement, no good works to present—only a plea: “Remember me.” And Christ answered him with immediate, overflowing grace. If that is how the King receives a dying criminal, how much more will he receive us when we turn to him? This is a kingdom of hope for the broken, the weary, the repentant, and the lost.

Christ is King—not in spite of the cross, but because of it.
A King who reconciles.
A King who forgives.
A King who remembers us.

And so today, as we proclaim Jesus Christ as King of kings and Lord of lords, we do so with gratitude, with reverence, and with renewed commitment to walk in his way—the way of the crucified and risen King, who reigns in love now and forever.

Amen.