November 23 2025 Reign of Christ Sunday

Jeremiah 23.1-6    The Song of Zechariah    Colossians 1.11-20    Luke 23.33-43

Reign of Christ Sunday, you may be forgiven for thinking that our readings today would be full of ‘kingly’ language.  Maybe something from the Book of Revelation about Jesus on his heavenly throne; maybe something grand and prophetic from Isaiah telling us about ‘a son’ being given to us on whose shoulders will the government rest; or even Jesus’ transfiguration, or him raising Lazarus, or emerging from the waters of baptism with heaven thundering in his ears.  But instead, we find a crucifixion scene.  Jesus, hanging between thieves, one speaking deridingly, but Jesus only responding with blessing and promise to one less fortunate than himself.

Today’s readings invite us to explore the tradition and deeply discomforting theme of Christ the King.  And one of the ways we can explore what ‘Christ the King’ means is to look at iconography.  The icon ‘Christ Pantocrator’, found in the Church in Patmos and many other Orthodox churches, summarises the doctrine of the Council of Chalcedon in one arresting image, and attempts to communicate that Jesus is both fully human and fully divine.

When we read the icon, we see first the halo which encircles a cross.  And this in and of itself, explains how Christ’s holiness is understood through the cross, where his human and divine natures come together.  On the cross are three Greek letters – Omicron, Omega and Nu, which represent the Greek phrase ‘the One Who Is’.  And this phrase echoes what we learn about the divine nature when, in Exodus, Moses asks the presence in the burning bush ‘who are you’ and receives the reply ‘I am who I am’.

In the top left and right corners are more Greek letters IC and XC, the first and last letters of Jesus’ earthly name (Iesous) and his divine name (Christos).

In the icon, Christ is wearing two garments.  The inner garment is red – the colour of divinity and the colour of incarnation and passion.  The outer garment is blue – the colour of humanity.  The outer garment is the one Christ ‘puts on’ when he comes to earth as Word Made Flesh.

Christ holds, in his left hand, a book, indicating his role as logos, the Word of God.  And he raises his right hand in blessing.

This figure appears flat and two dimensional, but this is an intentional aspect of a written icon, and maybe even the most important part.  Icons are meant to act as a window.  A window allows you to see from the inside out, and from the outside in, and it allows light to pass through.  In prayer, an icon can illuminate you, illuminate the holy one in the icon, and illuminate the divine as it shines through.

The second icon, Christ Pantocrator, is held at St. Catherine’s Monastery at Mt Sinai in Egypt.  This is perhaps the earliest known icon, and the icon writer shows the central paradox of Christian doctrine; that Christ is fully human and fully divine, by including two different sides of Jesus’ face – what is known as a ‘double gaze’.  This ‘double gaze’ has been the subject of many interpretations, including that one side of Jesus’ face is meant to reflect mercy while the other judgement.  But the effect is quite strange, but maybe that is the point.

Christ Pantocrator is, in visual imagery, what we find in today’s readings in words.  A representation of the paradoxical nature of our faith.  In Colossians, Christ is eternal, in Luke Christ is mortal, in Colossians he reigns, in Luke he dies.  We also have images and words of reconciliation, of the bringing together of two disparate things. We hear in Colossians “in him all things hold together”, and the overall theme is peace.

It can be difficult for us to hold together these mysteries, and our texts offer some advice.  “In the tender compassion of our God:”, the Canticle of Zechariah sings, “the dawn from on high shall break upon us, To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death: and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”.  This offers us a clue for how the passages can be read.  Firstly, we sit in darkness.  We let the truth of unknowing, the mystery of ‘the One Who Is’, be with us.  Then the ‘dawn from on high will break upon us’ and ‘guide our feet in the way of peace’.

The point of the Christ Pantocrator icon, however, is not to be examined, not to be understood or interpreted.  It is to be contemplated.  As we hear in Psalm 46: ‘Be still and know that I am God’.  Perhaps the most difficult and most important ‘reading’ of this icon is simply to be with it, to sit in its presence, to allow, in that paradoxical moment, its silence to be its speech.