The Cross Holds a King
Sermon on the Sunday of Christ the King, Last Sunday of Pentecost 2004.

Sermon text: Jeremiah 29:1-6; Luke 23:35-43

Night enveloped Creation.
He who uttered, "Let there be light,"
Now hangs in darkness.
The reality of the One who created the universe
Shrinks to three nails,
Two pieces of wood,
And one gashed, broken body.

Could this have been the prophet's dream?
Is this the righteous Branch of David,
He who would reign as the wisely dealing King?
"The LORD is our righteousness?"

No prophecy could have meant this.

Save yourself!" they mock,
"If He is the Christ!" they scoff.

If, indeed.

The words uttered in answer to life's ultimate question
Now ring hollow in the air: "Thou art the Christ, the Son of God."

"If He is the Christ!"

He is not, however, alone.
Two others hang with Him, between heaven and hell,
Between the life that was and the death that will be;
Unable to flee, horrified of that to come,
They hang, with dreams of life fading as their eyes
Glaze over with death.

One sees hope:
Join the crowd!
Cry louder!
Can they kill one of their own?
Could they, would they
Let him live if he joins the refrain?
In desperation, he forgets
That in this world,
Laughter brings camaraderie
But cannot bring deliverance.
Cry, and you cry alone.
Die, and you die alone.

But the other thief...
But the other,
Near to the grave and justice,
In the final moments before Death steals all;

The other looks in the middle and sees

Grace.

Innocence.

Purity.

Love.

Power.

In the moment of his worst nightmare,
He sees

Hope.

"Remember me, Lord, when you come into your kingdom."

When?

On a cross? "Thy kingdom come?"

Then it happens:

The Creator lifts his beaten, bloody head,
Turns swollen eyes to the penitent,
And the sinner sees salvation looking back at him.

"This day, you will be with me."
"This day, paradise awaits you."
This day, salvation has been brought to you.

From ages past, again, the words resound:
"Let there be light!"

And on this day, this day of defeat
And death's ultimate triumph,
Victory screams forth
From ethereal planes of reality,
Crushing the darkness yet again;
Creation repeats itself
As night falls away
To reveal
On the cross
The Way, the Truth, the Life.

And on this day,
Light breaks forth to show the world
That the cross does not hold a crucified slave.

The Cross Holds a King.

Later that day,
While a mangled corpse lay
Where cast by his killers,
And another lay
Where borne by loving arms;

A puzzled thief
Looked 'round,
Gazing upon incomparable beauty,
Astounded that death could be so -- everything!
Then, he glimpsed a face
And saw familiar eyes; Eyes that bespoke
Power, Grace,

And love.

And the repentant malefactor knew
He beheld what the cross could not hold:
He beheld His King.

In ages to come,
When the cross that held the King
Has faded to dust and nails have decayed to rust,
Every knee shall bow and the universe shall ring
With the roar of all Creation confessing:
"Jesus is Lord!"

And for all eternity,
Mockers and scoffers shall remember
That on the day of their judgment,
As they confessed -- though too late --
"You are Lord:"

They looked up to see
That now and forever more
Not a cross, but a glorious throne
In a golden city

Shall hold the King.

-- John Alexander, Pastor, New Hope Baptist Church, Romulus, Alabama