
Last Sunday after Pentecost:
Christ the King
Proper 29
Nov. 16, 2025
This Sunday is the last Sunday of the liturgical year. It is the Christian “New Year’s Eve” so to speak. It wraps up what we commonly call the green season or Ordinary Time before the church embarks on the seasons of Advent, Christmas, and into Lent and Easter. This Sunday is also known as Christ the King Sunday, or the Reign of Christ.
While the concept of Jesus Christ being King is as old as the Gospels, the feast day of Christ the King is fairly recent in the liturgical calendar. The feast was introduced in the Western liturgical calendar in 1925 by Pope Pius XI. Pius was about to close that year of Jubilee amidst growing secularist nationalism and fascism in the world that followed the fall of European kingdoms after World War I, and decided to establish the solemnity to point to a King “of whose kingdom there shall be no end.”
This last Sunday of the church’s calendar is a time when God’s people look back and reflect on the meanings of the past year and look ahead with hope to the future and its meanings yet to be revealed. The Sunday before Advent has us reflecting on our faith and looking forward to the new with anticipation. What did our shared lives of faith teach us this past year? What did we mourn, what did we celebrate, and how did we grow?
We are in the juxtaposition of Jesus’ death with the Gospel reading right before we wrap ourselves in the wonder of the incarnation. The new life that is to be born. The same Christ who is hailed as king also suffers a cruel death at the hands of the state, and the same Christ who rules over all creation also enters the world as a vulnerable baby. This is the kind of King that God gives us. Vulnerable, humble, and yet what we think of as weak is the glorious power that overcomes even death.
What a paradox our King is. The paradox, however, is important for us to try and wrap our hearts and minds around. I think that was the point Pope Pius was trying to make. All the money, power mongering, threats, and fear have no real power. Those are not attributes of the king that Christians acknowledge. Christ’s reign takes on special meaning when we look at the narrative of his birth, life, suffering, death, and resurrection. Christ is no ordinary king.
Looking at the letter to the Colossians yields several clues as to what kind of king he is. This section of the letter reads like a hymn. In fact, it is thought to be one of the oldest forms of a Christian creed by the early church that we have–way before the Nicene creed and even before the Apostles creed. Christ is ruler not just of some but of all. A ruler over all created things.
Christ is described as “the firstborn of all creation,” existent even before humans were created. Actual kings usually ascend to their thrones by genetic inheritance. They are normally descendants of a particular line of people. The reference to being “firstborn” appears twice (vv. 15, 18), underscoring that Christ belongs not to a particular people but rather to all peoples.1
The text refers first implicitly and explicitly to a reign whose freedom and peace are achieved through the saving power of death on a cross. He does not rule by threat or military domination or acquisition. His authority is not sustained by asking homage from others. He does not subject people to himself. His “kingdom,” therefore, stands in stark contrast to other imperial rules. His is an entirely different sort of empire than, say, that of Rome or any other colonizing nation.
Since Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, his followers have had to navigate the world they find themselves in by living in such a way that aligns with the example of Jesus’ life and an understanding of what he taught his followers while walking this earth. More often than not, Christians have found themselves in hard places where division, oppression, secularism, and governments have challenged their core beliefs and caused us to wonder, “How then shall we live?”
The Christians in Colossae were wondering the very same thing. Paul is writing this letter to them to give them some guidance because these new Christians were finding it quite challenging to be in a world that was at odds with how Jesus called his followers to live. So Paul lovingly spells it out for them and encourages them. What Paul writes in this section of the letter is really a summary of the Gospel.
“May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power,” he begins. A power that is not the power of governments or wealth, but a power above every power–the power of God who overcomes even death. A power that is not seen or understood unless lived out in one’s life. A power that is contrary to power idolized in our world today. It is a cosmic scope that Paul is wanting them to understand, greater than the confines of this earth.
How do we embody this vulnerable power in a world that is fractious and chaotic? The source of Christian power is, namely, Christ. We are not strong in ourselves but only as children of God. On this Christ the King Sunday, it is Christ the King’s might which keeps the people strong.
“May you be prepared to endure everything with patience,” he counsels them. It’s quite a rich idea of what it means to be both living in this patience in the gap between what God wills and hopes for the world and what is taking place in a time in history. What does living with patience look like? Essentially it means living in God’s time and not our own.
Now enduring everything with patience is quite a challenge. Most of us don’t have the kind of patience that endures, and I want to point out that enduring with patience does not mean sitting back and not responding to injustice or poverty or anyone in need. God’s love is always love in action–love at work but with patience. Paul presses us even further–”may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks.” Now we’re to be joyful, too? Joyfully giving thanks when the world is raging in division and fear is a tall order.
But here’s the thing. When we decide to claim our identity as Christian, as followers of Christ, we are not to live according to the norms of this world. Paul says in his letter that God “has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son.” Just like the Israelites in our Old Testament reading in Jeremiah found themselves as exiles living in a completely different land. Paul says we are also transferred to the kingdom of Christ–this is where we are to live. The Gospel is our guide and constitution.
We are to live differently. And that’s hard. We frequently want what others have even if it isn’t good for us! No longer are we subject to the powers of darkness, but we are now God’s beloved and citizens in the kingdom of heaven through Christ’s sacrifice. We can find these moments of joy and light and communion with God that take us actually out of being overwhelmed. That’s how we endure–with joy and gratitude.
And we do not do this in isolation. Our community, our church, is where we come together, living under Christ’s kingdom principles and we become a light, a way of walking with Christ that is in contrast to the power of the shadows of evil at work in the world. We are to be known by our love, our actions of caring for our neighbors. We are to be a people where others look and see Christ in our midst.
So, on this InGathering Sunday, we recognize the importance of our little community that may seem too small or insignificant in this world and yet we are reminded that we are a part of the greater Kingdom of God, here, now. Your pledges, your service, your prayers, your being here with us faithfully as a part of this communion is part of a greater love at work in the world that dispels the evil forces. What we do here matters. It matters very much on a cosmic scale and everything we do from setting the altar table to helping in the nursery, to financially keeping the lights on and feeding our neighbors, to coming together for prayer (which is a force of unbelievable power), to singing in the choir, to bible study or even just coming to be present with us, all keeps the important presence of Christ alive and vibrant in this world and while we patiently endure with joy and thanksgiving.
- Barbara J. Blodgett. Feasting on the Word, Year C Proper 28. ↩︎