The Gospel of the Crucified King

Here is a man.

Crown of thorns.

Robe of mockery.

A throne of timber —

splinters

carving

truth

into

flesh.

They called it execution.

He called it exaltation.

The Gospel of the Crucified King

is not etched in gold

but written in blood —

a manifesto of mercy

signed with wounded hands.

Here is a King —

a wild Messiah,

lifted high,

not in triumph

but in torment.

A coronation of nails.

He reigns,

not by crushing enemies

but by forgiving them;

not by hoarding power

but by pouring it out.

Let the Church be like this —

power redefined as cruciform love,

where victory looks like vulnerability,

and leadership tastes like loss.

Here is a King,

surrounded by criminals,

praying for soldiers,

entrusting his mother

to a friend.

He dies as he lived,

among the broken,

for the broken,

as one of the broken.

Let the Church be like this —

choosing the company of the condemned

over the applause of the powerful;

a scandalous solidarity

that resists empire

and disarms violence.

Here is a King,

gasping his last breath,

whispering mercy

to a dying thief.

An unlikely paradise

swings open.

Let the Church be like this —

speaking hope

in hospice rooms and refugee camps;

proclaiming grace,

speaking truth &

enacting kindness.

This is not the end.

But it is the place

where all endings

are unmade.

The Crucified King

rules with wounded hands,

bearing scars

that heal the world.

And even now,

his reign

is rising.

It rises in bread broken

on forgotten tables.

It rises in quiet acts

of stubborn kindness.

It rises where tears

are noticed,

named,

held.

It rises where the Church

counts the cost

and still says “yes.”

Let the Church be like this,

a crucified people,

liberation-shaped,

wounded and faithful,

proclaiming a crucified King.

This Gospel

still smells of Golgotha,

but it breathes

the Spirit’s wind

and carries

the scent of resurrection.

Go, Church,

you are sent and empowered,

called and equipped

as wounded healers,

as cross-bearers,

as kingdom-bringers.

To look and love like Jesus —

who rules and reigns

with self-giving,

sacrificial love.

Amen.

And amen again.

Rev’d Jon Swales,

Part of the Gospel of the Wild Messiah collection