Year B, The Last Sunday after Pentecost, Christ the King
November 24, 2024
2 Samuel 23:1-7, Psalm 132:1-13 (14-19), Revelation 1:4b-8, John 18:33-37
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“Christ’s Kingdom: Rooted in Truth, Living in Love”
The Very Rev. Kathleen Murray, Rector
Historic Beckford Parish, Mt. Jackson & Woodstock
The Last Sunday after Pentecost, Christ the King
November 24, 2024
“For this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.”[1]
The truth. That is what Christ the King Sunday is all about – truth. The truth of scripture in our world.
Christ as King is deeply rooted in scripture, but the feast day of Christ the King itself is a relatively recent addition to the Church calendar, instituted less than a century ago. Yet its message is as urgent and timeless as ever.
Pope Pius XI first proclaimed Christ the King in 1925 to reassert the primacy of Jesus’ reign as king, a kingdom that redefines our understanding of power, authority, and allegiance.
To understand its significance, we must look back to the turbulent world of 1925. Now, this is only a hundred years ago. Some of our parents and grandparents were alive. My mother’s parents were both teenagers; my father was seven years old.
The scars of World War I were still fresh, a war that not only claimed millions of lives but also shattered the structures of old empires. In its place arose new ideologies—nationalism, fascism, and communism—that sought to fill the void. Leaders like Mussolini in Italy, Hitler in Germany, and Stalin in Russia demanded absolute loyalty, using propaganda, fear, and violence to consolidate their power. These movements often sought to replace religious devotion with devotion to the state.
In this context, Pope Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King. He recognized the growing threat of secular ideologies that sought to supplant God with earthly rulers. Pius and other church leaders reminded Christians that no earthly power could ever claim ultimate authority. True authority belongs to Jesus Christ, whose kingdom is not built on domination but on truth, love, and justice. By proclaiming Christ as King, the Church resisted the idolatry of human power and called Christians to give their allegiance to God.
Yet, this feast is not just a response to a specific historical moment. It is a proclamation of a truth that transcends time.
The kingship of the Messiah is present throughout the Scriptures, from the promises of the Hebrew Scriptures to the ministry of Jesus. The psalmists sang of a God whose reign brings justice to the oppressed and peace to the nations. The prophets spoke of a Messiah, a righteous king who would restore Israel and bring salvation to all people. And in the Gospels, we see these promises fulfilled in Jesus—a king unlike any other.
In today’s Gospel, we witness a striking moment of confrontation between two visions of kingship. Jesus stands before Pilate, the representative of the Roman Empire. Pilate, a man accustomed to the politics of power and fear, asks, “Are you the King of the Jews?”[2] His question reveals his assumptions – that kingship must be tied to political ambition, military might, or territorial control. But Jesus’ response challenges these assumptions. “My kingdom is not from this world,”[3] he says. “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over.”[4]
The contrast between Jesus and Pilate is stark. Pilate represents the empire, a system that thrives on oppression and domination. Jesus represents the kingdom of God, a reign that turns the world’s values upside down. Theologian N.T. Wright describes this moment as a collision between two different kinds of power: the power of empire and the power of sacrificial love.[5] It is a collision that continues to reverberate through history and in our own lives.
Jesus does not mean that his kingdom is irrelevant to the world. Earthly kingdoms rely on violence, exploitation, and self-interest to maintain power. Christ’s kingdom is rooted in love, truth, and self-sacrifice. Christ’s power is not wielded through fear but through the cross—a symbol of ultimate humility and self-giving.
This feast challenges us to examine where our loyalties lie. Like the Christians of 1925, we live in a time when competing ideologies vie for our attention and allegiance. Political movements, economic systems, and cultural pressures demand our loyalty, often, like the heresy of the prosperity gospel, promising salvation through material wealth, personal success, or national greatness. Consumer culture tells us that our worth lies in what we own. Social media tempts us to measure ourselves by likes and followers. Even I check out the church likes on Facebook.
In the face of these pressures, the Feast of Christ the King reminds us that our true citizenship is in God’s kingdom.
But what does living as citizens of Christ’s kingdom look like in practice? Often, we get caught up in the metrics of the world around us, even in the Church. We worry about Sunday attendance and whether our programs are successful by worldly standards.
These concerns aren’t unimportant but can distract us from the kingdom’s call. Christ the King reminds us that the work of the church is to proclaim and embody the values of God’s reign. Jesus calls us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and care for the imprisoned. He calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves and to welcome the stranger as we would welcome him. If we are doing the kingdom’s work—serving the least, the lost, and the lonely—then we are proclaiming Christ’s reign.
The hymn “King of Glory, King of Peace” that we just sang reminds us of this deeper calling. Written by George Herbert, it begins with the words: “King of glory, King of peace, I will love thee; And that love may never cease, I will move thee.” This hymn captures the essence of Christ’s kingship—a reign rooted not in coercion but in love. “I will love thee.” These words invite us to respond to Christ’s rule not with fear but with joy and devotion. Herbert’s words remind us that our faithfulness is measured by the love we pour into the world.
Consider the example of Jesus’ throne—the cross. It is not a symbol of domination but of self-giving. It reminds us that true power lies not in taking life but in laying it down for others. This is the paradox of Christ’s kingship: his victory is won not through force but through sacrifice. Christ’s glory is revealed not in splendor but in humility. His crown is made not of gold but of thorns.
This paradox is not just a theological concept but a call to action. The kingdom of God is not a distant reality, it’s the here and now, and we are called to proclaim Christ’s reign. When we love Jesus embody justice, and are disciples, we reflect Christ’s love.
As we prepare to enter Advent, a season of waiting and hope, the Feast of Christ the King invites us to live purposefully. Advent reminds us that Christ’s kingdom is both already here and not yet fully realized. We live in the tension of that “in-between” time, trusting in the promise of God’s ultimate victory while working to reflect that victory in our own lives.
Let this feast also be a reminder that Christ’s kingship transcends political boundaries and national identities. Christ’s kingdom is not confined to any one nation or culture. It is a kingdom for all people, a reign of justice, peace, and reconciliation. Christ the King calls us to unity in a world that often divides. Christ the King calls us to hope in a world that often despairs.
So today, let us proclaim Christ as King—not just with our words, but with our lives. Let us reject the idols of this world and give our allegiance to the one who reigns in truth and love. And let us live as citizens of God’s kingdom, wholly focused on the work of love, justice, and mercy in a world desperate for evangelism, desperate for good news.
For God is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, now and forever.
Amen.
[1] John 18:37, New Revised Standard Version (“NRSV”)
[2] John 18:33, NRSV
[3] John 18:36, NRSV
[4] Ibid.
[5] Cf. N.T. Wright, Simply Jesus. Harper One (New York), 2011.