The Crowning of the King
What is it about a crown that appeals to us? Or better, what is it about being human that a coronation ceremony moves us? Why is it that our hearts are stirred, even in a movie, when a rightful monarch rises to the throne, and a crown is placed on his or her head?
Tolkien’s The Return of the King closes with a coronation, Aragorn is crowned King Elessar in Minas Tirith. It is powerful and deeply moving. Or The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, with the crowning of Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. Also moving. But why?
Is it the majesty, the beauty, the pomp and circumstance of the event? Maybe in part, because we are drawn to beauty, but maybe it is far deeper than that. Maybe what fills us with greater awe is what the crowns represent. In both stories, the crowns were forged in the fires of evil. There was sacrifice and battle, victory and hope, righteousness restored. That is what gives the moment its weight.
We were created for such moments, moments where good triumphs over evil, where justice is restored, where honour and integrity, power and truth, love and kindness prevail. The reason for this is simple: we were created for a kingdom, with a true King, one who is righteous, who lacks nothing in integrity or power or justice, one whose banner over him is love (Song of Songs 2:4).
And here is the good news: we have such a King and no less a kingdom. Yet, Scripture reminds us that his kingship was secured through paradox. His coronation does not take place in the splendour of Minas Tirith, but at the place of the skull. Not through power, but weakness. Not through life, but through death. Holy Week, Good Friday, and Resurrection Sunday form a coronation, a desperate parody of the real, indeed, but a needed coronation nonetheless, one that draws us in with awe and, by grace, pulls out of us a sorrowful confession of sin and repentance.
Palm Sunday: The King Arrives
The ceremony begins on Palm Sunday, as Jesus made his ascent into Jerusalem, deliberately orchestrating the event from start to finish. The crowds were large because his fame had gone before him. He was known as a miracle worker and a prophet, and more than that, he had been called the Son of David (Matthew 20:30–31). The expectation was clear: the King had come to take his throne.
Yet the coming King chooses a lowly steed, a colt, the foal of a donkey. Vulnerable, untrained, and weak. Everyone knew, however, that no one rides into a city to claim power on a donkey. Had Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon on one, Rome would have laughed. Kings go to battle on war horses, not on donkeys.
The people did not grasp the magnitude of the moment, but Jesus did. He came not to confront Rome, but a far greater enemy, one that lives within and exercises dominion over this world: sin, evil, the devil and his forces (Ephesians 6:12). Still, they laid down their cloaks and palm branches and cried out, “Hosanna to the Son of David” (Matthew 21:8–9). “Lord, save us,” they cried, though they did not yet understand from what. And Jesus did not stop them, for he DID come to save them and us (Luke 19:39–40), and in doing so to fulfil the prophecy of Zechariah (Zechariah 9:9).
The Crown Given by Enemies
Jesus entered Jerusalem, but no one crowned him. Because by divine design, it will not be his followers who crown him as King, but his enemies. As the days unfold, the moment draws near. On the night he was betrayed, Jesus took bread and the cup and shared “himself” with the disciples, speaking of his imminent death (Luke 22:19–20).
Shortly after his Last Supper, he walked into the night, through the Kidron valley, fully aware of what lay ahead. His anguish was so great that his sweat was like drops of blood (Luke 22:44), begging his Father for the cup to pass from him (Matthew 26:39). He knew the coronation he was moving toward was one unto death.
So he was betrayed, handed over, condemned, though without sin (1 Peter 2:22), and brought into the praetorium, where the ceremony, in a twisted form, begins.
The Crown of Thorns
The soldiers mocked him, clothed him in a purple robe and placed a crown of thorns upon his head (Matthew 27:28–29). They struck him, flogged him, spat on him, and ridiculed him, while our King endured in silence.
They did not understand what they were doing, nor that it must happen this way. The thorns were not accidental. They are the mark of the curse. “It will produce thorns and thistles for you,” the LORD had said concerning the power of sin (Genesis 3:18). And Scripture tells us that cursed is anyone who hangs on a tree (Deuteronomy 21:23; Galatians 3:13).
So, the coronation is a cursed one, because the blessed One had to be cursed for us. For he came to bear our shame, remove our guilt, carry our sorrow and endure our punishment (Isaiah 53:4–6). By his wounds we are healed, the prophet foretold. He came to reverse the curse.
The Throne of the Cross
But the coronation did not end with the crown, for the King must be enthroned. And so they nailed him to the cross and placed a sign above him: “Jesus, the King of the Jews,” to mock him (Matthew 27:37).
Then darkness covered the land, the earth shook, and mockery filled the air, while the King cried out: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46-51). The coronation, though a parody, was complete, and it was hellish.
Still, the King had the final word. Christ declared, “It is finished,” and in that moment, the penalty for sin was paid in full, and the curse was broken. Hallelujah!
The Crown of Life and the Ascended King
After three days, Jesus stepped out of the grave in triumph, never to die again. He is the victor over death, evil, and the devil (Hebrews 2:14). He is Lord and King. And so declares: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18).
Then comes the true and formal coronation. Christ ascends, exalted to the right hand of the Father, to the praise of the heavenly hosts. As Peter declares, he is made both Lord and Christ (Acts 2:32–33), and Paul echoes this truth: he is now seated above all rule and authority, power and dominion (Ephesians 1:20–22). The coronation is now complete!
The Coming King
But this is not the end of the ceremony, really. Because we will see him again, crowned with many diadems, riding not on a donkey but on a white horse (Revelation 19:11). No longer mocked, but worshipped. No longer judged, but judging (2 Timothy 4:1).
And on that day, the ceremony will surpass every longing we have ever felt. There will be a throne beyond description, a glory beyond comprehension, and a multitude no one can number from every nation, tribe, and language (Revelation 7:9). With one voice we will cry, “Salvation belongs to our God… and to the Lamb” (Revelation 7:10). The awe and wonder that our souls long for will be fulfilled. Our King has returned!
Our Hope
Now what? We believe. By grace, we put our faith in the exalted King. And we wait. We wait in hope, for the Holy Week, Good Friday and Easter tell us that the King has conquered. Death has been defeated. Life is ours in Christ. And there is mercy and grace to all who call upon his name, repent of their sins and put their faith in our risen and exalted King. His name is Jesus, the Christ, our Lord!
