The Feast of Christ the King, established in 1925, was originally a bold response to the rise of fascism, communism, nationalism, and secularism. These movements sought to replace spiritual and moral values with earthly power and control. Pope Pius XI created the feast to proclaim that Christ’s kingdom, founded on justice, humility, and love, stands above all human authority, challenging ideologies that prioritized dominance over compassion. Over the decades, the feast has grown beyond its initial context. While it remains a critique of authoritarianism, it now speaks to our broader human tendency to place ultimate trust in material success, technology, or cultural ideologies. It reminds us that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world and cannot be confined to political or social systems. Instead, it points to a reign of service and sacrificial love that transcends earthly popular wisdom.
Reframing Christ the King as “Christ the sovereign of all time” highlights his authority over all history—past, present, and future—and his enduring presence in every moment of human experience. This focus deepens personal reflection, inviting us to consider Christ’s sovereignty over our own lives and to align our priorities with his way of humility, justice, and peace for every generation. As we delve deeper into what it means for us to claim Christ as our King, and for him to claim us as his subjects, let us open our hearts and minds to his eternal reign.
Let us pray: May only God’s Word be spoken and only God’s Word be heard; in the name of Jesus. Amen.
I remember the night my sister was crowned Homecoming Queen in high school. I was there at the game, and the air buzzed with excitement and suspense. My sister had campaigned hard for it, with the help of our mom, who even made little Tootsie Pop favors for her to hand out and win votes. When halftime finally came, we all waited, breath held, for the big announcement. When her name was called, it felt like a wave of pride and joy broke over us—a bright, unforgettable moment of honor and recognition.
Homecoming coronations like that one are full of admiration and excitement. These titles of King and Queen go to students chosen for their popularity, charm, or accomplishments. They stand before cheering crowds, dressed in fine clothes, symbolizing a moment of glory that’s brief and bright. The honor is real, but it rests on outward appearances, and its celebration passes with the night.
Today, though, we turn to a different kind of King: Jesus Christ, whose coronation looks nothing like the glamorous, joyful ceremony at a halftime show. Jesus receives no royal robes or cheering crowd. He’s crowned with thorns, clothed in humility, and marked by suffering. His kingship stands in direct contrast to every human ideal of power and glory. His kingdom doesn’t lean on popularity or praise, but it lives in the power of self-giving love and enduring truth.
The way Jesus receives his kingship defies expectations. In today’s gospel, Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea—the civil, earthly authority representing the emperor, or in other words, the earthly king—questions him about his kingdom, and Jesus speaks of a rule that doesn’t come through force or fear. His coronation is marked by suffering, not splendor. And that kind of coronation isn’t easy to recognize. In our lives, it calls us to see his reign in unlikely places and ways, especially when his presence isn’t what we expected.
In the chapter previous to today’s gospel from St. John, during the High Priestly Prayer, a powerful theme emerges about our relationship as disciples with the world and Jesus’ kingdom. Jesus prays for us, asking the Father to protect us from the world’s influence. When he says, “They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world,” he defines our identity as Christians—rooted in him and called to live by divine standards rather than worldly values. Jesus’ prayer is not a request to take us out of the world, but rather to strengthen and guard us as we live out our faith within it. This shows that we, as followers of Jesus, have a mission to represent his kingdom here on earth while remaining distinct from it.
And now today, when Jesus faces Pilate, he emphasizes the nature of his kingdom, saying, “My kingdom is not of this world.” This statement speaks directly to us as followers of Jesus, as it reveals the heart of our calling. Jesus’ kingdom is based on values entirely different from those of earthly kingdoms, which often thrive on power, dominance, and control. His words remind us that, as his disciples, we are called to be part of a kingdom rooted in love, sacrifice, and truth. When Jesus tells Pilate that his kingdom is otherworldly, he assures us that, even though we live in the world, we are not bound by its values. Instead, we are invited to live as ambassadors of his kingdom, embodying its principles and offering the world an alternative way of life.
Together, Jesus’ prayer earlier in John’s gospel and his words before Pilate today shape our understanding of what it means to be Christians in the world. As his followers, we are sent to bear witness to a kingdom that transcends earthly structures and challenges conventional views of power and purpose. We are called to engage with society while holding fast to a vision that redefines our loyalties and values, showing a new kind of life. In both passages, the message is clear: we, as Jesus’ disciples, have a distinct identity and purpose in this world, reflecting the light of his kingdom in a way that reveals hope and truth to those around us.
Christ’s kingship is a mystery—wrapped in humility, sacrifice, and love. Unlike earthly rulers, Jesus sits on a throne of wood and wears a crown of thorns. He shows us that real power lies in giving ourselves away. His kingship calls us to live under his rule, not in a passive way, but as active bearers of his kingdom, revealing in our lives the true meaning of his reign.
Jesus takes up a throne on a road of sorrow. His journey to the cross is his royal procession, but it’s marked by rejection, hardship, and betrayal. His throne is a wooden cross. His kingship challenges us to walk a “royal road” that often leads through humility and servanthood. Following him might lead us into suffering and sacrifice, but it’s in these moments that his kingdom comes to life.
Though he’s the ultimate Judge, Jesus faces earthly trial. He stands accused and condemned by human power and lies, even as he embodies truth. His trial confronts us with a challenge to live by God’s truth, even when the world rejects it. His kingdom doesn’t fit into any earthly system, and his justice doesn’t align with our ideas of law and power.
Jesus is also our High Priest, our holy and blameless go-between, anointed not with oil but with his own blood, credentialed not with any human authority but with divine authority. He offers himself as the sacrifice for all of humanity. His kingship is not only humble; it’s sacrificial. He doesn’t keep anything for himself; he gives everything for our redemption. That kind of love demands a response. We meet it with gratitude and surrender, trusting that his love holds us and makes us whole.
And our King doesn’t rule from a distance. Jesus prays for us as a living sacrifice, even from the cross. Even now, ascended on high, he continually intercedes on our behalf, drawing near to us in prayer and action. We don’t follow a distant ruler, but one who is with us in every need. His example calls us into a life of prayer and trust, of walking in the ways of a King who knows us and loves us deeply.
Christ’s kingship isn’t like any earthly rule, but it points us to a final homecoming. At the end of time, when he returns to reign in fullness, we’ll witness the true coronation of our King. He will come home to us, and we to him, as his kingdom of love is fully realized, and we find our eternal place with him. When Jesus returns, he will come having already been crowned, coronated with the glory of God in ways that defy common expectations but truly reflect the wisdom and strength of God. When he returns, we will come into the eternal reign of Christ our King, when he comes to usher in his kingdom in fullness at the end of all time. It will be the homecoming of our King, his coming home to us to reign, full of grace, mercy, and love.
The Rev'd Daniel W. Spigelmyer, Jr. 