Speaking at St Mary’s , Rufford at 8am on the Feast of Christ the King, Fr Joe Kochasnki, Asst Curate posed the question, ““Whose kingdom will you serve?”
The Sermon in full:
Today, as we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King, we come to the grand finale of the church’s liturgical year. Everything we’ve journeyed through this year – Advent’s longing, Lent’s repentance, Easter’s joy, and the steady growth of Ordinary Time – brings us here: to this moment where we proclaim that Jesus Christ is King.
But what does it mean to call Christ King? For some, the image of a king conjures up grandeur, power, and domination. Yet Christ’s kingship turns all those ideas upside down. His reign challenges us to rethink power, authority, and allegiance. Today, we reflect on who this King is and what his kingdom means for us.
To call Christ “King” is no small thing. In the time of the early church, it was a dangerous declaration. In the Roman Empire, Caesar was Lord. His authority was absolute, enforced by armies and maintained through fear. To proclaim “Jesus is Lord” was an act of defiance.
Think about the cost of this claim for the early Christians. Paul wrote many of his letters from a prison cell. The apostles faced torture and martyrdom. The early popes led an underground church, hunted by the empire. For them, this wasn’t just some abstract theological idea – it was a life-or-death decision.
Even today, calling Jesus King challenges the power structures of the world. When we say Jesus is King, we declare that no earthly ruler, no political ideology, no cultural trend, and no personal ambition has ultimate authority over us. When we declare Christ is king, we are saying that only Christ has the final say in our lives. But do our lives reflect that? Do the choices and priorities in our lives proclaim Christ’s Kingship? This is what the Feast of Christ the King calls us to reflect upon.
In today’s Gospel, we see this tension play out in Jesus’ encounter with Pilate. Pilate represents the might of Rome, an empire built on conquest and control. He asks Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews?”
It’s a loaded question. Pilate isn’t interested in theology; he’s thinking of power and politics. To him, a king is someone who enforces order through violence, someone who commands armies and crushes opposition.
But Jesus’ answer challenges everything Pilate understands about kingship. “My kingdom is not of this world,” he says. Jesus isn’t denying that he’s a king. He’s redefining what kingship means.
In John’s Gospel, the phrase “the world” carries a double meaning. On one hand, it refers to that which God created and loves: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son…” But we live in a fallen world which has rebelled against God, and therefore “the world” also refers to the realm of sin and corruption, where power is wielded through domination and fear. When Jesus says his kingdom is not of this world, he’s rejecting that second definition. His kingdom isn’t about violence or coercion. It’s about forgiveness, compassion, and love.
Think about the contrast between Rome’s kingdom and Christ’s. Rome’s power came from fear, war, and control. Christ’s power is rooted in serving, healing, and sacrificing. Which kingdom do we want to live in?
Our readings today give us two pictures of Christ the King.
First, in Daniel’s vision, we see Christ in glory. He is wrapped in clouds, seated on a throne of fire, surrounded by countless multitudes. His dominion is eternal, and his kingship knows no end. This is a King who inspires awe, transcending time and space.
But in John’s Gospel, we see a very different image. Here, Christ stands before Pilate, vulnerable and alone. There’s no throne, no heavenly host. Just a man in chains, face-to-face with earthly power.
These two images might seem like opposites, but they are two sides of the same King. Christ is both transcendent and imminent. He is the cosmic ruler of the universe and the intimate companion who walks beside us in our struggles. This is the King who reigns over all creation and yet knows our names, hears our prayers, and shares our burdens.
Christ’s kingship breaks every rule. Think about his life. He wasn’t born in a palace but in a stable, to an unknown teenage girl. His family fled as refugees to Egypt. During his ministry, he had no home, no wealth, and no political power. He spent his time with outcasts and sinners, the very people the world overlooked.
And then came the cross. Imagine it: the King of the universe allowing himself to be beaten, mocked, and nailed to a tree. On the cross, Christ’s kingship is revealed in its fullest. This is a King who gives everything for his people, even his life.
It’s a scandalous kind of kingship. But it’s precisely this self-giving love that makes Christ’s kingdom so different from any earthly kingdom. His reign is not about taking but giving. Not about domination but redemption.
Christ’s kingdom is eternal, transcending time and place.
By virtue of our baptism, we are citizens of this kingdom, and as such, we have a responsibility – Our lives should reflect the values of Christ’s reign. Forgiveness, compassion, generosity, and love – these are the hallmarks of the kingdom. And we are called to live them out, here and now.
That’s our calling: to live as if the kingdom is already here. Because in Christ, it is. Wherever forgiveness triumphs over revenge, wherever love overcomes hate, wherever generosity breaks the chains of greed, the kingdom of God is present.
Today, Christ the King stands before us, just as he stood before Pilate. He asks us the same unspoken question: “Whose kingdom will you serve?”
If we choose Christ’s kingdom, we must commit to living out its values. That might mean forgiving someone who’s hurt us, standing up for the voiceless, or reaching out to a neighbour in need. It might mean choosing love over anger or generosity over selfishness.
It also means proclaiming, with our lives, that no earthly power has the final say. Not fear, not hatred, not even death itself. Only Christ the King reigns.
This is our King: the one who reigns from the cross and the clouds, who holds the universe in his hands and yet knows the smallest details of our lives. This is our King, who gave everything for us so that we might have life in all its fullness.
As we leave here today, let’s remember that we are citizens of Christ’s kingdom. Let’s live as kingdom people, bearing witness to the hope and love of our King. Let us ensure that we proclaim to the world, not just with our words, but with our very selves, that Jesus Christ is King. Amen.