What does it mean to have a king who cannot be corrupted by power? Psalm 110, the most quoted psalm in the entire New Testament, pulls back the curtain on a vision of kingship that shatters every expectation we bring to the word. We live in a moment when the hunger for a hero has never felt more intense, and yet every figure we elevate eventually disappoints. This sermon walks us into the heart of why that cycle never ends and what it reveals about us: we were made for a king, hardwired for dependence on God, not the endless parade of political and cultural figures we keep crowning and dethroning. The psalm opens with a divine oath, God himself speaking to David's Lord, installing a king at the place of ultimate authority and promising that every enemy, even death itself, will be brought to nothing. That promise is not abstract. It is the very ground beneath our feet when fear closes in and the enemies we face feel overwhelming. The deeper we go into this text, the more we find that the king it describes is not simply a ruler but a priest, a mediator who stands between us and God, not by compulsion or coercion but through a sacrifice offered once and for all. This is the king who thirsts on a cross and is lifted up in resurrection, and that pattern, humiliation followed by exaltation, is the shape of the hope held out to everyone who follows him.