We continue looking at Christ our King this week. We have seen Christ as the expected Messiah promised during King David’s reign, but one who far exceeds David. Then, yesterday, we heard something about our King as expressed in an early Christian hymn after his resurrection. We recognise the awe in the lyrics. What a shock, in our Gospel today, to see that our king is hanging on a cross. How
can Jesus be a king when he is being crucified by the authorities? “The people stayed there before the cross watching Jesus.” And we do, too.
Mary, the women, and John the apostle are among the people. In Luke’s Gospel, “the people” are usually those who understand Jesus. Let us stand with the people and see Jesus. He has been scourged and had a king’s robe put around him, crowned like a king, but the crown is of thorns, and a banner
above his head proclaims him to be a king.
How can Jesus on the cross be the expected Messiah, the Christ, the anointed one, the king? The people had hoped that the messiah would free them from the occupiers and that they would be self-governing again, free of the oppressors; a king who would outdo David in battle, free and unite them, and bring wealth, direction, and stability. Jesus’ dying on the cross did not seem to fulfil
this.
Jesus is silent, and the people are silent. Imagine the distress, the confusion, the disbelief. This is the man they walked with, Jesus, who healed so many, who included all those on the edges of society: the poor, the women and children, the women during natural cycles of fertility, foreigners, prisoners, the blind, deaf and sick who were seen as punished by God for sins. Jesus, who in his prayer and behaviour, taught them
to love ‘Abba’, to love their neighbours, and to love themselves. Jesus, who rejoiced in the ordinary, the wheat in the fields, the birds in the air, the fruit in the trees. The Jesus who walked and talked with them and explained away their sense of confusion. The Jesus who gave meaning to their lives. Is Jesus on the cross the same person?
And yet, the people, Mary, John, the women, the good thief, and the centurion assure us that
their expectation and hope remain. They believe in their faithful God in their depths, even when all looks hopeless. They believe. They recall and depend on, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
What do I believe? Who is Jesus for me?
Can I hold onto hope in Christ, my King, in the paradox of joy and
suffering?
