Sermon preached by Rev. Margie Quinn on Sunday, November 23, 2025
Good morning.
Some of you may know, but some of you may not, that today is Christ the King Sunday. How many of you knew that before walking in? Okay.
Christ the King Sunday is actually the last Sunday in our liturgical year. It’s the last Sunday of our Christian calendar—the last Sunday in Ordinary Time. Next week these paraments will change from green to purple to announce the beginning of Advent. But for now, this is our last Sunday of our liturgical year. And it's interesting to me that on the last Sunday before we start to hear whispers of the birth of this king, we read about his death.
This passage got me thinking: What kind of king was Christ? What kind of king was he?
What I know is that he was not the one they expected. Do you remember what the people probably thought at that time? They thought this Messiah was going to kick butt. They thought this Messiah was going to come in a crown, showing royalty and riches. A war hero riding in on a horse. Someone powerful and mighty. Someone potentially intimidating. Someone who worshiped Caesar and his coin.
And look what we got.
What kind of king was he? You know what kind of king he was? We've been preaching in the Gospel of Luke for what feels like years at this point, so I want to take you through what we've learned about this king so far. Are you ready? You ready? All right.
In Luke 1, Simeon says that this child will be a sign that will be opposed. And then Zechariah sings in Luke 1 that not just some people, but with this king all flesh will see God’s salvation.
And then remember in Luke 4 when Satan tempts Jesus, has him look out at all the kingdoms of the world, and says, “These can be yours. All power and authority can be yours. All you have to do is worship me.” And our king says, “I only serve God.” Do you remember that king?
Do you remember when our king stood up in Luke 4 and read from the scroll and unrolled it and said, “Today, today this scripture has been fulfilled”? It’s been fulfilled to bring good news to the poor, to release the captives, to give recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free. Do you remember that king?
Do you remember the king who went to the demoniac—the man hidden in a cave that no one wanted to touch or talk to? Remember how he healed this man with demons. Remember how he healed the paralyzed man, the bent-over woman, the man with the withered hand, the woman bleeding for twelve years—healed and touched people nobody else wanted to. The leper, the boy with an unclean spirit. Do you remember this king?
Do you remember this king who ate with tax collectors that everybody hated and Pharisees that everybody loathed? This man who celebrated with the “wrong” people—people I don’t want to celebrate with. Do you remember this king who, when his disciples were calling her a sinner, allowed her to bathe his feet with ointment and dry his feet with her hair? And when they said, “You can’t forgive someone like this,” he said, “Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” Do you remember that king?
What about the one who said you’ve got to love your enemies? You’ve got to do good to those who hate you. You’ve got to bless those who curse you. You’ve got to bless the ones who exclude and deride and revile you.
Do you remember the king who said, “I have come not to call the righteous but to call sinners”? Whose wealth didn’t lie with Caesar’s coin but with a beloved community of both sinners and saints, of both rich and poor, of both the hated and the loved, of both men and women, of both children and the old. Y’all remember that king?
That’s what kind of king Christ is. That is the king we worship today.
And somehow, ironically, the people didn’t seem to get it. And so where we meet our king in this passage today is actually on the cross. We meet him at the place called The Skull. And while we've heard about this king who said the least among you is the greatest, who said the kingdom is among you, who sent out the Twelve to proclaim that, who talked about the kingdom of God thirty-two times in the Gospel of Luke—how many times, church? Thirty-two times. Clearly, he was trying to make that message clear.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, because we find him on the cross. And in the Gospel of Luke, it’s not called Golgotha, it’s called The Skull, which was actually the shape of the hillside—meaning this hillside was raised so that when people were crucified, it was a public spectacle. That was Rome's way of saying, “We won. Do you see what we do to people who deny our power? Do you see what we do to the rebellious and the radicals? We crucify them. Do you feel intimidated yet by our power, by our reign, by our kingdom?”
So he’s up on that hillside, not for being nice, not for being neutral, not for taking the middle road, but for preaching a radical message that was life-altering, that was empire-threatening, that was love-led, that was wild to the people.
And we don’t just find him alone up on this cross. We find him in between two what? Sinners. Criminals. Who knows what they did, but they were being criminalized for it. That’s where we find our king today. And in his last moments on earth, he looks up and says to God, “God, will you just forgive them? They don’t know what they’re doing. They don’t know that this is wrong.”
And in the face of that moment of forgiveness, the leaders and the crowd shout, “He saved others; let him save himself. Let’s see if this guy really is who he says he is.”
And then in this scene, here comes his cupbearer, which is actually just a Roman soldier, who brings him sour wine, which was the wine given to the poor. And then here comes his royal placard announcing his kingship—you know, the one that everybody thought was hilarious—that said “King of the Jews,” meant to embarrass him.
“This is your king,” they said. “This is your king,” they announced to the loyal followers. “This is the one you worship. Let’s see what he can do.”
Even one of the criminals, watching what the crowd did, looked at Jesus and mocked him too and said, “If you say you’re the Messiah, save yourself. Prove it.”
And Jesus did—but not in the way the crowd thought. Not in the way that maybe we thought he would.
While one criminal mocked him, the other criminal turned to him and said, “This man—he hasn’t done anything wrong.” And then he looks at Jesus and he calls him not “king,” not “Messiah,” not “royal one,” not “mighty one.” He says, “Jesus, will you remember me when you come into your kingdom?”
Church, we’ve got to think about how wild it is that in a time, as Luke writes, when people failed to recognize our chosen one, when people did not have eyes to see, the person who saw our Savior—really saw him—was a criminal. Can you believe that?
And in his final breath, Jesus doesn’t help himself. He doesn’t seek revenge or retaliation. He doesn’t threaten violence. In his final breaths on earth, he looks at a criminal right in the eye, using personal pronouns, and says, “Today you will be with me in Paradise. You will be with me in Paradise. Though this feels like the opposite of Paradise, though you might think I’m a coward because I’m not fighting back, though I stand here scandalized next to you, I want you to know that death is not the last word, but that my kingdom is.”
Today. Jesus says that a lot in the Gospel of Luke—as if to say it’s easy to think about the past, to think about the world of oppression and greed and hate. And it’s easy to think about the future—of what might be or the scary things that could happen. And yet Jesus says again and again in the Gospel of Luke, “Will you just stay with me right here today? Will you work for my kingdom today? Could you actually believe that Paradise could be here on earth today? That God’s heavenly realm is breaking in?” And it’s not one of violence and retribution. It’s one of something hearkening back to a garden—as “paradise” suggests in Greek.
Today, though this doesn’t feel like Paradise, though we are suffering, I promise you that when you see me and recognize me, when you look at my face, when you call me Jesus, you are already in Paradise. For this is both the scandal and the glory of the cross.
What kind of king is he?
He is a king whose crown is made of thorns. He’s a king whose placard is not a sign of power but one of mockery. He’s a king whose throne is a wooden cross and whose constituents are sinners. Y’all know any kings like that?
What kind of king is he? He’s a crucified one. And as N.T. Wright notes, he is one who showed mercy to sinners and saints alike. He’s one who was willing to be mocked and ridiculed and derided for our sake. He’s one who practiced forgiveness up until his last breath. He’s one who was willing to be thrown into the injustice system for our sake—to suffer with. He’s one who uses his power to grant not revenge, but mercy.
Do you know that king? That’s Christ our king, whose mission is compassion and whose reign is revolutionary. Y’all know about that king?
What kind of king is he? Well, we hear whispers as we walk toward the season of Advent. We hear whispers of a vulnerable baby, born to a poor family. Not a mighty one, but a lowly one. And as we will hear next week, as the people were told, as the whispers were spread of this king—of his kingdom—there will be no end.
A final act of mercy. One of forgiveness, not revenge.
Do you worship this king?