Daily Devotions

The Rejected King

“But his subjects hated him and sent a delegation after him to say, ‘We don’t want this man to be our king.’” Luke 19:14

Jesus told this parable on His way to Jerusalem—a city that would soon shout “Hosanna!” and then “Crucify Him!” In the story, the citizens reject the nobleman’s kingship. It’s a chilling line: “We don’t want this man to be our king.”

This isn’t just ancient history—it’s a question that confronts every human heart: Will we accept Christ’s reign—or resist it?

It’s not always open rebellion. Sometimes it’s subtle—a refusal to give Him lordship over our time, our money, our relationships, our pride. We want Jesus as Saviour, but not as King. We want His blessings, but not His commands.

But here’s the truth: Christ is King, whether we accept it or not. His authority is real. The only question is whether we will live under His gracious rule or try to build kingdoms of our own.

To say “Be King of my life” is to surrender, not in defeat, but in trust. He is the kind of King who lays down His life for His people. And though He was rejected by many, those who receive Him receive life, peace, and purpose.

A pastor once placed an ornate chair in the middle of the sanctuary with a sign that read: “Reserved for the King.”

Throughout the service, people admired the chair—but no one sat in it. At the end of the sermon, the pastor asked: “We say Jesus is King—but is His throne truly at the centre of your life? Or do you keep it vacant while living as your own ruler?”

It was a powerful reminder: it’s possible to honour Jesus with our words, our songs, and our rituals—yet still leave the throne of our hearts empty, refusing to let Him truly rule.

Lord, I surrender my pride. I confess the ways I resist your authority. Be King of my life, my choices, my thoughts, and my actions. Reign not just over the world, but over me. Amen.

Devotional for Christ the King Sunday

Reading: John 18:33–37

Pilate and Jesus stand face to face in a moment charged with power.

Pilate represents empire — authority enforced by fear, control, and military strength.

Jesus stands with no army, no weapons, no political advantage — and yet he is the one who is truly free.

Pilate asks the question: “Are you the King of the Jews?”

He wants a title he can categorise, a label he can manage.

But Jesus refuses to fit the world’s expectations of kingship.

“My kingdom is not from this world.”

Not otherworldly, but different in nature.

Christ’s kingship doesn’t depend on force or intimidation.

His authority is rooted in truth, compassion, mercy, and self-giving love.

In our world today, “power” is often noisy — shouting to be heard, insisting on being right.

But the power of Christ is quiet, steady, unshakeable:

• It lifts the poor,

• heals the broken,

• restores dignity,

• brings hope.

To say Christ is King is not just a belief — it is a loyalty statement.

It means we choose:

• the way of peace over the way of dominance,

• the way of mercy over the way of revenge,

• the way of service over the way of status.

On this Sunday, we are asked:

Which kingdom are we living in?

The kingdom of fear, competition, and self-preservation?

Or the kingdom of love, truth, and grace that Jesus witnesses to?

Christ reigns — not by forcing obedience — but by inviting hearts to be shaped by love.

May we honour him not just with our words, but with 

StF 347 – “Crown Him with many crowns”

Verse 1:

Crown him with many crowns,

the Lamb upon his throne;

hark! how the heavenly anthem drowns

all music but its own.

Awake, my soul, and sing

of him who died for thee,

and hail him as thy matchless King

through all eternity.

(This verse beautifully emphasises the gentle but eternal sovereignty of Christ.)

Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ,

King of Kings and Servant of all,

you reign not with force but with love,

not with violence but with compassion,

not with fear but with truth.

Reign in our hearts,

that we may follow your ways.

Reign in your Church,

that we may show your grace.

Reign in our world,

that justice, mercy and peace may flourish.

Give us courage to choose your kingdom,

to witness to your truth,

and to walk your path of love.

For yours is the kingdom,

the power,

and the glory,

now and forever.

Amen.

Daily Devotions

King of Compassion

“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

What does true kingship look like? For Jesus, it isn’t domination or distance—it’s compassion. When He saw the crowds, He didn’t turn away. He didn’t grow frustrated. He didn’t use them to build His influence. Instead, He felt for them—deeply.

Jesus is the King who weeps, who listens, who heals. His reign is not marked by fear or control but by a deep, personal care for each human heart. He sees the suffering, the loneliness, the weariness—and He moves toward it.

In a world that often hardens us, Jesus calls us to reflect His compassionate heart. Not to be indifferent or judgmental, but to see people as He does: harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd—and to respond with mercy.

The King of Compassion doesn’t reign from a throne of gold, but from a cross of love. And He invites us to let His mercy rule in us, so that our lives reflect His heart to a hurting world.

There’s a story of a busy hospital doctor who was known for his incredible patience. While others rushed from patient to patient, he would take a moment to sit beside each one, look them in the eye, and ask how they were—really. One of the nurses asked him how he had time for that. He replied, “They don’t just need medicine. They need someone who sees them.”

This is what Jesus did. He didn’t just see the crowd—He saw each person. And He had compassion.

That’s what makes Him our King. His power doesn’t push people away—it draws them in. He rules not with a sword, but with care.

Jesus, King of Compassion, let me see people as you see them. Help me to move toward the broken, the tired, and the lost—not with judgment, but with mercy. Rule in my heart with your gentle strength, and help me to reflect your compassion in all I do. Amen.

Daily Devotions

The Victorious King

“On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.” Revelation 19:16

The final word of history does not belong to evil, empires, or darkness—it belongs to Christ. Revelation gives us a vision of a victorious King: not timid, not defeated, but riding out in majesty and power. He is called King of kings and Lord of lords—a title above all others.

This is not the peaceful procession of Palm Sunday. This is the triumphant return of the risen Christ, who comes not just to rule, but to set things right—to judge with justice, to overthrow evil, and to bring lasting peace.

When we look at the world today—wars, oppression, suffering—it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. But Revelation reminds us: Christ is not absent or powerless. He is coming in glory, and He will have the last word. His victory is certain.

In the end, it is not violence, injustice, or death that triumphs. It is Jesus, our victorious King.

There’s a story of a young girl reading a tense novel. She’s worried about the hero, who seems outmatched at every turn. So she flips to the final chapter to see how it ends. With a smile, she closes the book and says, “He wins.”

From then on, no matter how dark or difficult the story became, she read with confidence—because she knew the ending.

That’s what Revelation gives us. The battle is fierce, but the outcome is never in doubt. Jesus wins. He is the Victorious King. And we can live in the present with hope and courage, because the end of the story is already written: “King of kings and Lord of lords.”

Reign in power, Lord Jesus. Bring justice to a hurting world. Give hope to the oppressed, courage to the faithful, and confidence to your Church. May we trust in your final victory and live now as citizens of your kingdom. Amen.

Daily Devotions

The King Who Knows My Name

“The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” John 10:3

In our busy and impersonal world, it's easy to feel like just another number, another face in the crowd. But Jesus, our King and Good Shepherd, sees beyond the surface. He doesn’t call His followers “group” or “flock”—He calls them by name.

This simple truth has deep meaning: God knows you personally. You’re not a stranger to Him. You’re not lost in the multitude. You are known, chosen, and loved.

When Jesus calls your name, it’s not a voice of obligation or pressure. It’s the voice of someone who sees the whole of you—your story, your pain, your joy—and still calls you His own. Following this King means walking in the confidence that you are fully known and fully loved.

There’s a story of a primary school teacher who made it her mission to learn every child’s name by the end of the first day of term—over 150 students. When asked why, she said: “Every child needs to know they are not invisible. If I can speak their name, I’ve already opened the door to relationship.”

In the same way, Jesus knows our names. But unlike a teacher who learns names over time, Jesus has known yours before you were born (see Jeremiah 1:5). You are not invisible to Him. And when He calls your name, He’s not just showing that He knows you—He’s inviting you to walk with Him.

Just like that teacher created belonging through names, Jesus creates identity, security, and purpose through His personal care.

Lord Jesus, thank you that I’m not just a face in the crowd to you. You know my name. You know where I’ve come from and where I’m going. Help me to hear your voice and follow you in trust, knowing you lead with love and care. Amen.

Daily Devotion

King of Peace

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” – Isaiah 9:6 (ESV)

In a world often marked by unrest, division, and uncertainty, the promise of Isaiah shines like a beacon of hope. The child foretold is no ordinary ruler—He is the Prince of Peace. Jesus brings a peace that surpasses human understanding: not merely the absence of conflict, but the presence of wholeness, harmony, and justice.

His peace heals the broken, calms the anxious, and reconciles the estranged. Under His reign, true peace is not a distant ideal but a present reality for those who trust in Him. When Christ rules in our hearts, His peace transforms us—softening our responses, guiding our decisions, and shaping our relationships.

The peace of Christ is not passive. It is active, seeking justice, mercy, and righteousness. As followers of the Prince of Peace, we are called to be peacemakers—living out His peace in a world that desperately needs it.

There’s a story about two brothers who lived on adjoining farms. After 40 years of farming side by side—sharing tools, trading crops, and helping each other—an argument broke out. It began with a small misunderstanding, but grew into harsh words, bitter silence, and eventually a physical divide: one brother used a bulldozer to dig a trench between their properties, turning a stream into a boundary of separation.

One day, a carpenter knocked on the older brother’s door, looking for work. The brother said, “Yes—see that farm over there? That’s my younger brother. He dug that trench to divide us. I want you to build a fence so I don’t have to see his place again.”

The carpenter agreed. But instead of building a fence, he built a bridge over the stream.

When the younger brother saw the bridge, he was stunned. He walked across it and embraced his older brother. "After all I’ve said and done... you still built this?" The older brother paused, looked at the carpenter—and they both smiled.

That’s the work of a peacemaker—not building walls, but bridges. Jesus, the Prince of Peace, did exactly that on the cross: He built a bridge between us and God, and calls us to do the same in our relationships with others.

Prince of Peace, you reign with justice and mercy. In a world filled with noise and conflict, quiet my soul with your calming presence. Let your peace rule in my heart—bringing stillness where there is restlessness, and healing where there is hurt. Help me to be an instrument of your peace: in my home, in my community, and in the world. May your justice flow through my actions, your love shape my words, and your presence guide my steps. I surrender my fears, my burdens, and my striving to your perfect peace. Amen.