On One Merciful King
November 23, 2025
Rev. Traceymay Kalvaitis
Psalm 46: 1-3
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
Luke 23: 33-43
“When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.’ And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!’ The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, ‘If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!’ There was also an inscription over him, ‘This is the King of the Jews.’
One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, ‘Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ But the other rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’”
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Today’s sermon is titled On One Merciful King.
I know it seems strange to be offered the story of Jesus’s crucifixion on the Sunday before Advent, but the more I think about it, the more perfect it seems, for in this solemn story we find tenderness, forgiveness and mercy on full display. The lectionary offers us this account from the Gospel of Luke because this is the final Sunday of our church year before we begin a new year next week with the beginning of Advent. This final Sunday of the church year has a special name, The Reign of Christ. It makes sense that we should begin our church year, next Sunday, with the events leading up to the birth of Jesus. This Reign of Christ Sunday was first set aside for observance rather recently, in 1925, by the Pope who gave this day a much longer name; the Pope named this Sunday The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. What would Jesus have thought about that title? I can see why it has since been shortened to The Reign of Christ.
Regardless of the official title, what this day affords us is a chance to consider the full arc of the life and ministry of Jesus. In holding knowledge of the full story of his life, the events surrounding Jesus’s birth take on a different light. We know the end of the story and that inevitably affects the way we approach the beginning. Playwrights and screenwriters know that sometimes revealing what is to come changes the way the viewer experiences the unfolding of the story leading up to that point. This is called flashing forward. In holding the knowledge of the circumstances around Jesus’s death, we are able to see his birth, his life, and his ministry in a clearer light.
Jesus’s ministry spanned only the last three years of his life; he was charged with blasphemy and crucified at the age of 33 along with two other convicted criminals. The scene is depicted in detail in our reading today. The three are taken to the place known as Golgotha, in Aramaic, or Calvary in Latin, both words translate as “the skull” because of the dome-shaped contours of the hill. It is there that Jesus says the ten words that may just be, to me, the most meaningful, given the context. Jesus arrives at the site of his death and he says, “Forgive them, Lord. They know not what they do.” A sign is placed on the top of Jesus’s cross. “This is the King of the Jews.” Biblical scholar Matthew Skinner identifies this act as “part of the spectacle and propaganda of the moment”…as if to say, to the Jewish community, “You want a king? Here is the kind of king you can have under Roman rule…a crucified king.”
As they are dying, Jesus is taunted, first by the Roman soldiers and then by one of the two other criminals, who challenges Jesus. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” The other man defends Jesus, defends Jesus’s innocence, and then makes a request. “Remember me,” he asks. Jesus responds, “You will be with me.” These are some of the very last words Jesus spoke; he spoke words of assurance, words of promise, words of consolation even as he hung, dying, on a wooden cross.
This is the fate of the child born to Mary and Joseph. If we were speaking of just another person, we might say that this was the inescapable fate of the child born to Mary and Joseph, but we are not speaking of just another person. Jesus of Nazareth knew he would be tried and put to death. He could have avoided that outcome. He had weeks, if not months, to escape. In the Garden of Gethsemane, shortly before he was arrested, Jesus prays to God, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me. Yet not my will, but yours be done.” This is the moment of fulfillment, I believe. This is the pinnacle of Jesus’s ministry; he has been so effective, so influential, so successful in deconstructing the power structure of his day. He has done this by edifying the oppressed, by unconditionally extending the love of God to all levels of society, and he has amassed a large following, large enough to be a real threat to business-as-usual in the temple and in government. The very fact that he was such a threat that the powers-that-be sought to silence him, is perhaps the greatest testament to the profound effects of his ministry.
Today, all across the world, in nearly every nation there are those who gather in his name, to learn about the limitless nature of love. Jesus embodied a love so great that he was able to face a painful death and in the very midst of it, minister to another. “You will be with me,” he said to the other. This is yet another example of what life might be like in the kindom of God, and in the reign of Christ. Even those we call criminals are not bound and defined by their worst moments; they, too, have a place in God’s kindom. There is no one who is left out or overlooked or undervalued. Imagine that!
Theologian Karoline Lewis poses an intriguing question about the kindom of God; she asks, “What kind of citizenship are we being called in to” as citizens of the kingdom of God, where Christ, our merciful king, reigns? Citizenship in the kingdom of God requires us to keep the love that is God central in our lives so that our thoughts, words and actions stem from God. This is the only way we can hold another’s needs as equal to our own, the only way we can love our neighbors as ourselves, the only way we can see beyond our differences, the only way we can see that of God in all people and in all the circumstances of our lives. Imagine our lives with the love that is God at the center. Imagine facing all the circumstances of our lives with the confidence and conviction of the psalmist who sang the words we heard this morning from Psalm 46: God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.”
I take the liberty of adding to this litany; God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the rule of law is pulled asunder, though the foundations of democracy are undermined, though the hungry cry out for food and God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear. We will remember and abide by the rule of law, we will safeguard the foundations of democracy and work to strengthen them. We will feed one another and care for one another because our teacher came into the world to show us how. Our teacher came into the world as a tiny baby, dependent and vulnerable. Our teacher gave his life that we would learn that love is the most powerful, potent force in the universe; not even death can overcome it. Therefore we will not fear.
In closing, I lift up the one known as Jesus of Nazareth, our merciful king. In his life, and even in his death, he ministers to all who open their hearts to him. As we prepare to travel once again through the story of his birth over the next few weeks, I hope that by revisiting his death we are equipped with a greater capacity to welcome the light of the Christ child into our hearts, and into our world. So be it. Amen.
Pastoral Prayer
In the stillness of this moment, Lord, lead us closer to that place within us where You are all that is. Shine your light on opportunities to right our wrongs, so we may experience a clarity of mind that is impossible when conflicts sit unresolved. Remind us, God, that through your love, all things are possible; through your love, the unimaginable becomes reality, and through the Christ, we can approach aspects of ourselves that need your unquestioning healing and grace. With grateful hearts we pray this in Christ’s name. Amen.
Benediction
From the book of Jude: “As for you, Beloved, build up yourselves upon your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God…unto life everlasting.”