Colossians 1. 11 – 20
Luke 23. 33 – 43
Fr Alex
Today the Church’s year comes to a close with the celebration of Christ the King. The year that begins in Advent with the hope of the coming Saviour, ends with the proclamation of his rule over all creation.
And it’s a pretty special one this year as it’s the first for 70 years when we have a king on the throne in this country. Our new sovereign is learning what it means to be a king; something, I’m sure, you can only know once you’re actually doing it.
And in a sense that’s what we’re exploring here this morning. What does it mean for Christ to be the King? Because the Church gives us, on this great day of celebration, some very contrasting and perplexing readings.
It’s starts off as we might expect: in Colossians we read of Christ’s kingdom, and our place in it with the saints. We read that Christ is “the very image of God, before all things” – greater than all the “thrones or dominions or rulers or powers.”
Psalm 46 carries on the theme of God’s power over the nations and kingdoms, and even over nature itself. “Though the mountains tremble, though the waters rage and swell,” we will not fear; because “God is our refuge and strength.”
And then we get to our Gospel reading, and it all goes wrong.
The one who is called in Colossians “the head of the body” is taken to a place called “The Skull,” and executed. The one who rules over all the “thrones and dominions and rulers and powers” wears a crown not of gold, but of thorns; and his throne is a cross.
The one who is the “firstborn of all creation,” drawing all people to himself, is left to die alone, save for a pair of thieves. The one in whom “all the fullness of God is pleased to dwell” is scoffed at and mocked as an imposter, and the lowest of criminals.
“He is the beginning,” but now his life is coming to a brutal end. “In him all things hold together,” but now his clothing is divided, and his friends and followers scatter.
They couldn’t really be more different accounts of Christ, our King.
So what does it mean for the seemingly powerless Christ of the Gospel to be the King? Well it’s a question that Christians have grappled with since the very beginning.
You see it even in the Gospels – time and again the disciples think Jesus is going to be the military Messiah to cast out the Romans and rule over a righteous kingdom. Time and again, they’re disappointed and confused.
They try to defend their king with swords; they ask to sit at his right hand in his new kingdom; they even expect him to call down fire to consume those who oppose him. They want the power.
It’s tempting for Christians today to operate with the same misunderstanding that those first disciples had – especially when things are tough.
If only everyone was Christian, we believe, then we’d all get along. If only the people in power were real Christians, then all the problems of the world could be solved through compassion and generosity.
If only we just had the power over the course of our own lives, then we could do wonderful things.
The tension between our readings today points us away from those very tempting fictions. To stop believing how good everything would be if only we had all the power; and instead, to believe just how much things could change if we really trusted that God has the power.
It was this trust that brought Jesus through the temptations in the wilderness, the temptations of earthly power and wealth; that brought him through the grief and near-despair of Gethsemane; and ultimately brought him through the blood of his cross, and the dark of the tomb.
It was only through forsaking the claim to power that he was able to achieve for us the great victory over death.
St Paul writes in 2 Corinthians that “though Christ was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor.” In Philippians, he writes that Christ, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave.”
But because he humbled himself, Paul says, “Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend.”
This is the kingship that we celebrate today. A kingship that does not cling to personal power, but humbles itself, so that others may be raised up to share in the riches.
A king who takes on our humanity, so that we may share his divinity.
A king who reigns not in a far off palace, separated from his people; but in all the complexity and pain of human existence, close alongside us in word, in sacrament, and in our hearts.
That same crown is for us, the crown of everlasting life; if we really trust that it is God who has the power, and seek first the kingdom of his beloved Son.
So may Christ, whom we acknowledge as King over all creation, bring us to that trust in his Father; and “may we be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power.” Amen.