
On this final Sunday of the liturgical year, the Church invites us to contemplate a most paradoxical image of kingship. The Gospel from Luke 23:35–43 presents not a majestic ruler seated upon a golden throne, but Jesus hanging on the Cross, crowned with thorns, mocked by soldiers, and ridiculed by those who fail to see His true glory. Yet it is precisely there—on the Cross—that His kingship is revealed in its deepest meaning: a kingship of love, forgiveness, and mercy.
The leaders sneer, the soldiers taunt, and one of the criminals joins in the mockery: “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” But Jesus does not descend from the Cross. He reigns not by power but by surrender; not by domination but by compassion. His authority flows from His willingness to give His life for others, even for those who crucify Him. The inscription above His head, “This is the King of the Jews,” meant as a cruel jest, becomes instead a proclamation of truth: Jesus is indeed the King—but of a kingdom not of this world.
At the heart of this scene stands the other criminal, the “good thief.” In his humility he recognizes his own sin and acknowledges Jesus’ innocence: “We are punished justly… but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then, with a simple act of faith, he utters one of the most beautiful prayers in Scripture: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” His plea is met with an immediate promise: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
In that moment, the Cross becomes a throne of mercy, and the condemned thief becomes the first citizen of the Kingdom of Heaven.
This Gospel teaches us that Christ’s kingship is not about earthly triumphs but about divine compassion. His crown is made of thorns, His scepter is a nail-pierced hand, and His royal decree is forgiveness. To belong to His kingdom means to allow His mercy to reign in our hearts, to let go of pride and vengeance, and to live in trustful faith like the repentant thief.
As we end the liturgical year, we are called to ask ourselves: Who reigns in my heart? Do I allow the Lord to rule my life with His truth, or do I seek to build my own fragile kingdom of comfort and control? The feast of Christ the King reminds us that true greatness lies in service, true victory in love, and true glory in the Cross.
Let us, then, join the humble prayer of the thief, not in despair but in hope:
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
And may we hear, at the end of our journey, His royal reply:
“Today you will be with me in Paradise.”