The King No One Would Choose (Luke 23:35–43)

If people had been asked to choose their king in that moment in Luke 23:35–43, no one would have chosen him. Why would they? Here stood a man who looked utterly defeated. Mocked openly, beaten without cause, carrying the weight of a punishment that was not his, hanging between criminals with nothing to defend himself. Vulnerability covered him like a crown, and everyone could see it. Nothing about him appeared royal or powerful. And that is what makes the moment so unsettling. We grow up believing strength is loud. We are taught to admire winners, to follow those who command attention, to trust leaders who appear unshakeable. But this king is stripped of every sign of authority the world understands. And still, eyes remain fixed on him. A strange reverence rises for someone who remains true even when everything else is taken away.

 The discomfort comes not only from his suffering, but from the love that continues flowing through it. The forgiveness that refuses to stop. The tolerance that welcomes even those who wound him. It is deeply rare to see someone expected to be great reveal his weakness without shame. His honesty breaks the familiar script of leadership that demands strength at all times. By worldly standards, this king should have no followers. There is no promise of victory, privilege, or security. Nothing visible to celebrate. And yet, someone next to him — a man who has hit the end of his road — sees what others cannot. He recognizes a different kind of strength: the resilience of a heart that absorbs hatred and still responds with mercy. The courage of a spirit that loves while being rejected. The grace of a soul that does not grow bitter even as everything tries to crush it. Perhaps only those who have touched the edges of their own brokenness can recognize greatness in its purest form.

 When he says, “Today you will be with me,” he is not offering a reward. He is offering belonging. Companionship. That is why this king cannot be forgotten. Because in the very moment the world declared him powerless, he revealed a love no hatred could defeat, a forgiveness no sin could limit, a tolerance no prejudice could shrink, a resilience no suffering could overcome. This is the King no one would choose, yet the only King worth following.

  I am reminded of a story, when Alexander the Great was once riding through his camp, a soldier gravely wounded in battle was being carried away. As Alexander approached, the soldier weakly lifted his hand in salute. Alexander immediately dismounted, walked to him, and took his hand in return. The soldier whispered, “My king… I am sorry. I could not be stronger. “Alexander replied, “You have honoured me more by your loyalty in weakness than by strength. “The soldier died holding his king’s hand. It was said that day, a king was most visible not in his victories, but in his willingness to stand beside the broken. This is the opposite of the kings we imagine: not distant, not triumphant, but near the wounded.

A vulnerable King who appears weak, yet draws people by a strength the world cannot understand. A wounded King whose brokenness becomes the source of mercy. CHRIST THE KING, reign in our hearts

 - Lilly Pushpam PBVM