Crown Him with Many Crowns
From the 19th Chapter of the Book of Revelation, verses 11-13, 16:
Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems; and he has a name inscribed that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is called The Word of God. On his robe and on his thigh, he has a name inscribed, ‘King of kings and Lord of lords.’
These verses from Revelation were the inspiration for our processional hymn this morning, Crown him with many crowns, or as the bible calls them, diadems. I would bet money that every faith tradition in America who celebrates Christ the King Sunday is also singing about royal headbands this morning. And for good reason; each verse is a testament to high Christology. Jesus has crowns of dominion as king over all creation, crowns of love for sacrificing himself for humanity, crowns of resurrection for conquering death, and crowns of peace for reconciling humankind to God.
To understand the feast day in secular terms, the Reign of Christ is what New Year’s Eve is to the calendar year. It’s a hinge week between the liturgical seasons of Ordinary Time and Advent. I have always found solace in the timing of this feast day—it falls in late November and regardless of who may win an election, we’re reminded that only God is our refuge, our strength, our only king. (Psalm 46, vs. 1 & 10b).
The Reign of Christ as a theological commemoration is a relative newcomer to the Christian calendar. Pope Pius XI introduced it on December 11, 1925—a time of gathering darkness, when Europe was increasingly in thrall to the kind of nationalism, anti-Semitism and authoritarianism that once gripped the old Roman Empire. The feast was instituted to remind Christians that their allegiance was to their spiritual ruler in heaven.
The hymn we know as Crown him with many crowns was written by the Reverend Matthew Bridges in 1851. For Bridges, the multiple crowns represent the many different roles, honors, and powers that Jesus possesses. No single diadem can fully encapsulate Jesus’ infinite authority and glory. The many crowns exalt Christ’s supremacy as Lord of lords, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace.
Let’s walk through each of the stanzas.
- 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 first stanza declares everything that is subsumed under the headship of Christ. Here is the Lamb of God that John the Baptist tells us will take “away the sin of the world! (John 1:29) The hymn makes us more than mere spectators to his coronation. We sing to involve ourselves, to confess ourselves, to join with the angels and archangels, the cherubim and seraphim, in bearing witness to his glory.
- Crown him the Son of God before the world began, and ye, who tread where he hath trod, crown him the Son of man; who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast, and takes and bears them for his own, that all in him may rest.
The second crown reflects Christ’s dual nature as both fully divine and fully human. As Paul tells us in today’s epistle from Colossians: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. (1:15-17). This my friends, is how Pierre Theilhard de Chardin, the scientist, Jesuit priest and mystic described the evolutionary understanding of what he called the ‘cosmic Christ’ – the idea that the universe and everything in it is constantly moving towards a point of perfection defined by unity and love.
- Crown Him the Lord of life! Who triumphed o’er the grave, who rose victorious in the strife for those he came to save; his glories now we sing, who died and rose on high, who died eternal life to bring and lives that death may die.
This crown is one of thorns which represents Christ’s power over death, granting to us eternal life. We must pause for a moment and contemplate this paradox. This king who brings us eternal life was a dead man walking. He rode into his Passion not on a chariot but on a donkey. And though he is now a stripped, scourged and suffocating man his last words to another human before he gives up his spirit are words of forgiveness: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke: 23: 43).
- Crown him the lord of Lords, who over all doth reign, who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain, now lives in realms of light, where saints and angels sing their songs before him day and night, their God, Redeemer King.
The crown worn by the Lord of Lords is symbolized by the Good Shepherd’s crook. The prophet Jeremiah and Jesus were familiar with a world of bad “shepherd-kings” dividing, misleading, scattering God’s flock in darkness and fear. Such bad shepherds are at work in the world today. As Paul writes, “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Eph 6:12). It is through David’s branch that a Messianic king will gather a remnant home to safety. Christ our Redeemer King frees us from all darkness, frees us from false prophets, and the clutches of bad shepherds everywhere.
- And the crowning verse (pardon the pun): Crown Him the Lord of heaven enthroned above; crown him to whom is given, the wondrous name of Love. Crown him with many crowns, as thrones before him fall, crown him, ye kings, for he is King of all.
Ah, crown him the Lord of Love; crown him the Lord of Peace, crown him Divine Refuge. This is what it means to be the Lord of Heaven. The ancient poetry of Psalm 46 describes God as the help when morning dawns. God is both peace and fury. Calm and storm. The psalm begins with metaphorical descriptions of global cataclysms—the earth giving way, mountains crumbling into the sea, and waters that “roar and foam.” Politically, “nations are in an uproar, kingdoms fall.” Nevertheless, says the psalmist, “The Lord Almighty is with us/The God of Jacob is our fortress.” He advises us to “be still and know that I am God,” for God “makes wars cease, breaks the bow, shatters the spear, and burns the shields.” The admonition to “be still” is not meant to light a candle and meditate. No! It means to “Desist!” “Stop!” “Listen!” It is a parent scolding a child to “Be still!” This is the Lord of Heaven whose voice melts the earth, declaring: I AM WHO I AM–King of all!
A few closing thoughts as we enter Advent, a sacred season of waiting and listening and longing. As I studied and sat with this week’s lectionary passages, what strikes me most is what I did not read or interpret for Christ to be King. There is no path to glory that eschews humility, surrender, and sacrificial love. There is no permission to secure one’s prosperity at the expense of another’s suffering. There is no tolerance for the belief that the ends justify debased means. We witness every day the fierceness with which people of faith rally to shield the vulnerable from terror and harm. We also see no evidence that truth-telling is optional or the flourishing of any kingdom that favors the contemptuous over the poor, the oppressed, the broken-hearted.1 And we see no evidence that the Kingdom of this Christ of ours is not expansive enough to welcome all of creation, all of humankind in its glorious rainbow of diversity.
Yes, there are reasons for fear right now. Reasons for anger, reasons for grief. This is a tumultuous time. But we are not a people bereft of hope. We are not abandoned. We know where to look for paradise. We have the right king for this hour. In 1951, on the feast of Christ the King, Teilhard noted in his journal, ‘The great secret, the great mystery, is this: there is a heart of the world and this heart is the heart of Christ.”2 As Jesus was crucified, he hung in the gap between one man’s derision and another man’s plea for solace, absorbing both into his broken body. This is our king; our hope, our lives abide in his heart. Amen.
1 https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2458-a-king-like-no-other; This section is from Thomas’ commentary and rewritten to reflect my own thought. I am always deeply indebted for her writing.