The Gospel of Jesus

Christians talk a lot about “the gospel.” We say we’ve “believed the gospel,” “preach the gospel,” “live by the gospel.” Yet if someone stopped you on the street and asked, What exactly is the gospel?, what would you say?

Most of us would instinctively answer something like: Jesus died for my sins. And to that we add, "by Grace I am saved, I can go to heaven when I die."

That is certainly part of the gospel. But it is not the whole gospel. And if we stop there, we end up with something far less than the good news Scripture actually proclaims.

This isn’t a pedantic quibble. It matters, because what we believe shapes how we live.

Our Shrunken Gospel

The popular telling of the gospel is framed almost entirely by the cradle and the cross:

• Jesus was born.

• He died for my sins.

• I believe.

• I am saved.

• I get to go to heaven when I die.

Dallas Willard once described this as “Bar-Code Faith.” Like a barcode at the supermarket, once scanned, you’re “in.” The scanner is indifferent to what’s inside the package.

I call it the gospel of the empty tomb—true, but incomplete. It’s like stopping at the doorway of a house but never stepping inside.

This reduced gospel, much like the so-called Gospel of Sin Management, narrows the good news to two sides: on one side, the forgiveness of personal sin; on the other, the removal of social evil. Both forgiveness and restoration matter deeply—but neither, on their own, is the gospel of Jesus Christ.

And here’s why it matters. We live in a world filled with competing “gospels”:

• Consumerism tells us the good life comes from having more.

• Politics tells us salvation comes from the right leader or party.

• Self-help tells us freedom comes from within if we just try harder.

If we shrink the gospel of Jesus to nothing more than private forgiveness or social activism, it becomes just one more “earthly gospel” among many—another product on the shelf, another ideology among others.

But the gospel of Jesus is different. It is not advice, technique, or ideology. It is the royal announcement that Jesus is enthroned as King. And that changes everything: how we live, what we love, where we place our hope.

The Gospel in the Scriptures

From the beginning, humanity has resisted God’s kingship.

In the garden, Eve saw that the fruit was “good”—good for her to decide how to live on her own terms (Gen 3). Israel echoed the same choice generations later, when they demanded a human king. The Lord said to Samuel, “They have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them” (1 Sam 8:7).

That rejection runs like a thread through history—and through our own hearts. Yet the gospel is God’s gracious answer: in Jesus, the true King has come, inviting us back to live under His good and life-giving reign.

What, then, was the gospel as it was first proclaimed?

• Isaiah 52:7: “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news … who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’”

• Mark 1:14–15: Jesus begins His ministry: “The kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”

• Luke 2:10–11: Angels announce to shepherds: “I bring you good news … for unto you is born … a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

• Romans 1:1–6: Paul declares that the gospel promised in the Scriptures is “concerning His Son … descended from David … declared to be the Son of God in power by His resurrection … Jesus Christ our Lord.”

From Isaiah to Jesus to Paul, the message is consistent: the gospel is the royal announcement that Jesus is King.

The Occupied Throne

The news is simple, yet staggering: Jesus is King.

Paul puts it this way in Philippians 2. Though equal with God, Christ humbled Himself to the point of death—even death on a cross. “Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name … that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow … and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

This is the gospel: the throne of the universe is not vacant.

It is occupied.

But here is where we must slow down. Because the real question is not just that there is a king on the throne, but what kind of king He is.

History is full of rulers who sat on thrones—kings, emperors, presidents, strongmen. They established their reigns through force, fear, and domination. And we still feel their legacy today: suspicion of power, disillusionment with politics, cynicism about authority.

So when Christians announce, “Jesus is Lord,” it is fair to ask: Why is that good news?

The answer is that Jesus is not that kind of king.

Condescending, He ascended the throne,

His crown was thorns, not gold over bone.

No scepter of iron, but a spike through His hand,

Though legions lay waiting, He stayed His command.

He reigned from a tree where the guilty were tossed,

The King of Love enthroned by way of the cross.

Exalted by God, every knee now shall bend—

The reign of this Servant will never end.

Jesus kingship was not seized by violence but established through love. This self-effacing King uses His power not to exploit, but to serve. A King who lays down His life for His subjects and then calls them friends.

This is why the enthronement of Jesus is truly good news. History is littered with thrones occupied by rulers who demanded loyalty but could not be trusted—kings who built empires on fear, leaders who clung to power through violence, authorities who used their position for their own gain. Small wonder that we grow suspicious of anyone who claims authority over us.

But in Jesus we encounter a radically different kind of authority—one that can finally be trusted. His power is not about control but service. His crown was not gold but thorns. His throne was first a cross. He is the King who does not demand our lives for His sake, but gives His life for ours.

The stone rolled away was not proof alone,

It crowned Him with glory, it sealed Him the throne.

The risen One reigns, exalted above,

His power made perfect in self-giving love.

No empire of violence, no rule built on fear,

But mercy and justice made present and near.

The One who had emptied Himself unto death

Now fills all creation with Spirit and breath.

The church was not built on a slogan rehearsed,

But hearts re-aligned, with allegiance reversed.

Their creed was not merely, “He died in my place,

”But “Jesus is Lord!” etched in soul and in face.

The resurrection was not merely God’s way of proving that Jesus was divine. It was God’s way of enthroning Him as Lord of all—vindicating His life, His teaching, and His sacrificial death, and declaring once for all that this kind of king—the Servant-King—is the world’s true ruler.

That is why the occupied throne matters. Authority in this world is no longer defined by fear, manipulation, or exploitation. Ultimate authority belongs to One whose very reign is self-giving love.

The Gospel of Jesus is not an invitation to a private belief for a pleasant afterlife; it is a summon to pledge our allegiance to the King who reigns now, and to live under the reign of love already here. And as His body, the church, we are called to be a tangible manifestation of that reign of love in the world, now.