Kings

Kings

There were many before and many after this night, given the title of a King. They are born into royalty, raised in royalty, and served by the people who call them King. They are crowned with glory and honor, clothed with gold and the finest linen. They travel in exclusive luxury guarded and praise by the people who call them king. They are respected and highly valued and feast at dinner on the best the land can bring, dining in a mighty palace prepared for them. They wage wars sending out to battle the people who call them king.

When one quiet, starry night, a night that has long been foretold, a King came into this world. Denied royalty, He was born in a manger and raised as a simple city boy. He came not to be served, but to serve the people who wouldn’t call Him king. He was not crowned with glory and honor but with thorns and ridicule. He was not clothed with gold and linen but with blood and suffering by the people who wouldn’t call Him king.

He traveled to the city of Jerusalem not in luxury, but on the back of a donkey where He was arrested and prosecuted for crimes He did not commit by the people who wouldn’t call Him king. He was not praised, respected or valued but accused, assaulted, and humiliated by the people who wouldn’t call Him king. Instead of dining in royalty, He went out among the people and fed thousands from the hand of the Father, never asking anything in return.

He never had a mighty palace prepared for Him but His desire was to go to the house of His Father where there are many rooms to prepare a place for the people who wouldn’t call Him King. He waged a war, a final war, a war we were destined to lose, so He blamelessly stood alone, took every hit, all the pain, all the shame and all the sin, everything so that He could forever save the people who wouldn’t call Him king.

Miryna van As