Not the King We Expected

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
    A bishop I know once had a meeting when he was a priest with his diocesan bishop.  During that meeting, the diocesan bishop said to this priest, “You know, you’re not everything I would want in a priest.”  Talk about demoralizing!  But this priest who became a bishop then used this story to transition to talking with his priests, and admitted that he knows he’s not everything his priests would like to see in a bishop.  But he does his best to follow God’s will and be the best bishop he can be.

    As we celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe, the Gospel presents us with perhaps a different version of a king than we were expecting or want.  When we think of kings, we probably think of pomp and circumstance, fine robes, jeweled crowns, and amazing power.  Instead, our Gospel presents us what looks like utter failure as Christ hangs on the cross as a common criminal, and those around Him mock Him.  In place of pomp there is jeering.  In place of fine robes Christ had his cloak torn off His Sacred Body before they put the nails in His hands and feet.  In place of a jeweled crown He wears a crown of thorns.  And in place of amazing power Christ allows the powers of the world and Hell to rush upon Him, seemingly powerless to stop any of it.
    But the best king the world has ever or will ever have is Jesus.  And yet, His kingship is a tension of seeming paradoxes.  Christ is King on the cross, and Christ is King in heaven.  Christ is King naked in suffering, and Christ is King robed in majesty.  Christ is King in His agony, and Christ is King in His glorification.  But often times, if we’re honest, we prefer one over the other.  We might say, like that bishop said to his priest, “You’re not everything I would want in a king.”  
    We try to keep that tension as Christ’s faithful on earth.  We should both venerate Christ as King in glory and Christ as King in the earthly way He manifests Himself.  Both have value and importance.  Both help us to be faithful subjects of Christ our King.
    As far as glory, we do our best to demonstrate that in our Mass.  This temple uses precious materials like stained-glass, marble, beautiful paint, and precious metal vessels to show that we give our best to Christ our King.  Christ is worthy of all of our best materials, and we give that to him.  I wear special vestments which cost a fair amount of money.  We use special books to convey the Word of God, especially the Book of the Gospels.  We use a special instrument, the organ, which both mimics the human voice, but also brings with it the sound of trumpets and strings.  So much of what we do is wholly unnecessary and superfluous, but yet fitting for a king, just as DaVinci’s “Mona Lisa” or Michelangelo’s “David” is not, strictly speaking, a necessary part of the world, but adds wonder and awe and glory to the world.
    But our best is not just in reference to the sanctuary or the different ministers.  You should also bring your best to lay at the feet of the King.  Do we come as attentive as we can to Mass, not drowsy from the night before because we stayed up too late watching college football or drinking?  Do we take a look at the readings a few days before so that we can more deeply appreciate them as the reader proclaims them to us?  Do we do our best to dress better for the King than we do for our usual daily tasks?  Do we fast one hour before receiving our heavenly King, the Body and Blood of Christ, to prepare our bodies for so great a guest?  Do we exteriorly respond to the prayers and sing, to the best of our ability, the hymns and sung responses?  Do we unite all that has happened since the last time we came to Mass with the bread and wine offered on the altar so that we truly give ourselves to God, as He desires?  Certainly, some of these are tough, especially with young children, but can we say that we’re doing our best?
    On the other hand, Christ is King from the cross and in His suffering that continues in His members.  Do we allow the beautiful, glorified encounter with Christ the King to transform us so that we can meet Christ the King as we meet Him in our day-to-day lives?  There was a chart that I received when I studied liturgy in Chicago, and it broke up the Mass into three parts.  It was based on the pre-Conciliar Mass, but easily translated into the post-Conciliar Mass.  The first part of the Mass was what used to be called the Mass of the Catechumens, or the Liturgy of the Word.  The second part of the Mass was called the Mass of the Faithful, what we now call the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  But the third part of the Mass was called the Mass During the Day, not reflecting the time of Mass, but demonstrating that what happens at Mass is supposed to affect how we live our lives outside the church walls.  Another term for this was Catholic Action, or how we work, rest, eat, drink, play, and treat the poor as Catholics.  It is in our homes, in our jobs, on the roads, on our vacations, in our encounter with the poor that we also encounter Christ the King.  And how do we serve that manifestation of Christ in His Kingship?  Are we ready to serve Christ the King in the more mundane and messy parts of life?  
    Christ is King both in the aspect of glory here in this church as well as in the beggar, the co-worker, the family member, the immigrant, the police officer or firefighter, the politician, and any other person we encounter each day.  May we recognize Christ as King not only in His glory, but also in His suffering.  And I’ll end with a prayer that can help us serve Christ our King, not only as we want Him to be King, but as He truly is King:
 

Almighty and ever-living God,
Author of Light and Life,
enlighten our minds and strengthen our wills,
so that we may practice in our lives 
what we have celebrated at your holy altar 
and received into our hearts.
Through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Yes to One King

Feast of Christ the King

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As I prepared for this homily, it struck me that last weekend people across our country organized protests against President Trump under the title of No Kings.  It made me wonder what they would think of this feast day, in which we honor Christ, the King of Kings and King of the Universe (as it’s called in the Ordinary Form).  
    In the United States we do seem to have a love-hate relationship with monarchies.  On the one hand, we fought a war so that we didn’t have to be under the British monarchy (though, the monarchy in 1775 already had given some of its power to the elected Parliament).  On the other hand, tabloids would be half as big if they didn’t cover ever-lingering stories about King Charles and the late-Princess Diana, or, more recently, Prince Harry and/or Prince Edwards.  Many love the pomp and circumstance of the monarchy.  I would also hesitate a guess that many here appreciate Pope Leo bringing back some of the pomp and circumstance to the papal monarchy, at least in his clothing choices.  
    So what do we do with this feast?  Again, I would hazard a guess that most, if not all, of us love the idea of Christ the King.  During the 2024 elections, there were chants of “Christ is King” at political rallies, sometimes welcomed by those running, sometimes rejected (which is a bit troubling).  Many of the Mexican martyrs of the early 20th century died with the words ¡Viva Christo Rey! on their lips, as the Cristero Movement utilized the words as a rallying cry.
    But our Gospel reminds us that, all too often, another cry is on our lips other than ¡Viva Christo Rey!, and that is “Crucify Him!”  No, you didn’t miss it in the Gospel we heard, but in the Gospel Christ was before Pilate, with Pilate asking the Lord about His reign, as part of the mob’s request to crucify the Lord of Glory.  

    We, as Americans, demonstrate our love-hate relationship even with the Kingship of Christ.  At times we embrace Christ’s reign, especially if it coincides with what we want and our way of seeing things.  We want, at times, to be on the king’s side because we enjoy his protection and His rule.  And it doesn’t hurt to be on the winning side, as Christ will subject everything to Himself, as St. Paul says in one of his epistles.  
    But when Christ the King reminds us that His kingdom is not of this world, and that not all of our desires and not all of our plans are part of His reign, how do we treat the King?  With questions on either side about election integrity, it’s not uncommon to see or hear the phrase, “Not my president.”  Whenever we sin, we take up the phrase, referencing Christ, “Not my king.”  When we sin, we choose a new ruler.  We choose to subject ourselves to the power of darkness.  We elect a new king, one we think is more to our liking, but who is not merciful and who does not have our best interests at heart.
    We choose a king other than Christ when we lie to get out of something we would rather not do.  We choose a king other than Christ when we detract about another person who has wronged us or who seems like he or she doesn’t belong.  We choose a king other than Christ when we decide that our own will is most important, and that others, be it a spouse or a friend, has to serve our needs rather than seeking to serve their needs first.  
    Our entire life, if we are striving for holiness, means accepting the kingship of Christ, when it comes easily and when it comes not so easily.  God has claimed us for Himself through Holy Baptism, but we have to accept that dominion, while there’s still time to choose.  After we die, or after Christ returns in glory, there is no more time; our choice will have been made permanently.  But while we have life, we can still return to the Kingdom of Christ, even if we have, from time to time, strayed into foreign powers.
    So who is this king?  He is not a king as the world sees it, as the Savior tells Pilate, and His kingdom is not of this world.  He is a king who has servants, the angels, who can deliver Him from any harm at a moment’s notice.  He is a king who rules by truth, not by opinion polls or public desire.  Last week we heard how He is a king who invites people to His wedding banquet, even though many decide not to attend, but a king who will punish those who do not come to the wedding properly attired.  In Matthew, chapter 25, we hear how Christ the King will separate the nations between those who served Him in the least of His brothers and sisters, those who were hungry, thirsty, naked, ill, a stranger, and imprisoned.  We know that He is a king who, though seemingly conquered, actually conquered sin and death by His own crucifixion, and that no one can compete with His power and His reign.  
    Our King desires that we join His kingdom.  He died so that we could be part of His reign.  He is the only Victor, in the end (in terms of being triumphant).  What is our battle cry?  No Kings or ¡Viva Christo Rey¡?  May the words of the good thief, St. Dismas, be on our lips each day, and especially as we leave this world, “‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’”  Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Sunday after Pentecost or Epiphany?

Resumed 5th Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  These Sundays after Christ the King can be a bit confusing.  The Introit (what is sung while I begin the prayers at the foot of the altar), the Gradual, the Offertory Chant, and the Communion Chant are all from the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost.  However, the epistle and the Gospel come from the fifth Sunday after the Epiphany.  This all happens because the number of Sundays after Christ the King can vary, depending on when Advent starts, which can vary based upon what day of the Christmas falls.  It was probably this complicated formula that led those tasked with revising the liturgy after the Second Vatican Council to move Christ the King to what we would call the last Sunday after Pentecost, and to adjust the variable number of Sundays based upon where Lent begins.
    Truth be told, I think that calculating time after major feast days makes more sense.  Ordinary Time gets a bad rap because of its ambivalent name.  It would probably be better to call it “Ordered Time,” or even to use the more literal translation of per annum as of or through the year.  But there must have been some good to continue to use the way that the 1962 Missal uses the twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost for much of the Mass, and the resumed Sundays after Epiphany for the readings.  

The Prophet Jeremiah

    First, we hear Jeremiah’s prophecy from chapter 29 repeatedly.  And in this prophecy Jeremiah speaks for the Lord saying that the Lord has a desire for peace for us, not affliction.  And when we return to the Lord, He will end our captivity.  As we come to the end of this liturgical year, we focus more and more on the end of time and prepare for the return of the Lord (which Advent highlights in particular).  And one could approach the end in two ways: in fear, as a day of wrath, or as the consummation of a life-long courtship with God.  The Lord tells us, Sunday after Sunday, that He prefers the latter, not the former.  He wants to redeem us from this vale of tears, this land of our captivity where we struggle under the burden of sin.  So as we consider the end and our judgement, we do well to remember what the Lord desires for us, and how we can receive that gift of eternal bliss.
    The Gradual continues the same theme.  God has delivered us from all that afflicts us.  We will glory in God all the day and praise His name forever.  Again, this is what heaven is: the deliverance from sin.  While we are on earth, we can still fall into temptation.  While our salvation is the goal, given to us as a downpayment in Holy Baptism, we can reject that gift and choose to walk away from God.  Our fallen desires and the suggestions of the evil one can try to convince us to give up our inheritance which is eternal life with the saints in light.  Once we have died, temptation can no longer affect us.  We will receive the results of what we chose in life: Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, none of which allow for a change in our final destination due to rejecting or accepting sin (Purgatory can only lead to Heaven, so even there we cannot alter our destination).  And, if we accept that gift of salvation, then we will praise God for all eternity, in the day that knows no end in heaven.  
    Having recognized what God wants for us, we turn to the Offertory Chant, from Psalm 129, called the De Profundis.  We cry out to the Lord because we recognize that we have not always accepted the graces of Holy Baptism, Confirmation, and the Holy Eucharist.  This prayer is also said at the beginning of the Requiem Mass in the Extraordinary Form, as we plead for the deceased.  And while we don’t hear beyond the first couple of verses, Psalm 129 goes on to say, “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?  But with you is found forgiveness; for this we revere you.”  We acknowledge that no one can earn salvation, because we are all sinners.  But God’s mercy can save us, and this gives us reason to worship Him.  Having recognized what God wants for us, we cry out that we might be open to that gift of eternal salvation, which is only possible due to the Lord’s mercy.  
    Lastly, in the Communion Chant, we hear our Lord’s words from the Gospel of Mark: “Amen I say to you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you shall receive it, and it shall be done to you.”  Having worthily received the Body of the Lord, He commends us to trust that our prayers for salvation will be answered.  Now, this doesn’t mean that we can commit mortal sin, be unrepentant, and still hope for heaven.  But what it means is that when we ask for mercy and the eternal salvation that God desires for us, God will not withhold that from us.  God isn’t some despot who holds good things out to us but then does not grant them or hoards them for Himself.  No, He is our loving Father, who gives us all good gifts, even better than our earthly fathers do when we ask for something good.  Without presuming on God’s mercy, we can have confidence in His mercy and that God will do whatever lies within His power to save us.  The only thing not in His saving power?  Our willingness to accept it on God’s terms, not ours.  That is to say, there is no such thing as cheap grace where we receive God’s mercy but fail to repent with at least contrition.  
    So while you might have to turn a few extra pages to follow in the missal.  And while we repeat the same chants Sunday after Sunday after Christ the King, there is good reason for how the Church had set up these chants.  And they will help us to prepare for our end, and the return of Christ the King at the end of time, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Uploading Christ's Program

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe/Last Sunday after Pentecost

    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen]. While I now bristle at an app update taking more than 20 seconds, I am old enough to remember the days where, to play a game on the computer, you had to insert the floppy disk, and wait for it to load.  Or when you had to sign-on to the internet by getting your dial-up going, and hope that there was a good signal.  I remember starting software updates at night, because they were going to take hours, hoping that the install didn’t stall out, and you got the blue screen of death which meant you had to do a hard restart and do the process all over again.
    As we come to the last week of the liturgical year [in which we celebrate Christ the King], we are reminding about the kingship that Christ should have over our lives.  St. Paul says [in his letter to the Colossians] that we have been transferred from the power of darkness into the kingdom of the Son of God.  And our Gospel points us to the end of time, when Christ will return to fully establish His Kingdom, which was inaugurated in His earthly ministry, His Passion and Death, and His Resurrection and Ascension.  
    But perhaps we feel like that transfer from the power of darkness to the kingdom of the Son has stalled a bit.  It’s like we inserted that floppy disk when we were baptized to install the new program in our lives, but it hasn’t finished the installation yet, and maybe our screen in life even seems frozen up.  We’re waiting for Christ to return.  Maybe even we see signs that Christ Himself prophesied would mean the end was near, but Christ hasn’t returned yet.  We still wait in joyful hope for the return of our Savior, Jesus Christ, as St. Paul says to St. Titus.  
    In the meantime, we have an opportunity to make sure that Christ’s program downloads more and more into out souls and into our lives.  Each day we have in this “already, but not yet” of the kingdom of God allows us to make sure that we model our lives more and more on the life of Christ, so that we can say with St. Paul, “It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me.”
    The temptation is to hedge our bets, and try to guess the time of Christ’s return.  Christ, in Matthew 24 [the Gospel we heard today] describes some of the signs that will indicate His return.  But the same Christ also says that we will not know either the day or the hour.  Still, He advises us to ready ourselves, so that whenever it does happen, Christ will find us prepared for His return.  Sometimes we can so concern ourselves with figuring out the signs, that we forget about living the life of a disciple.  If we live as a faithful follower of Christ, it won’t matter when the end comes, because our lamps will be trimmed like the five wise virgins, and we will welcome Christ the Bridegroom, and enter into His wedding feast in heaven.
    So how do we prepare ourselves?  The Lord lays out part of the judgment in [our Gospel today from] Matthew 25.  How did we care for the least of His brothers?  Did we feed the hungry?  Did we give drink to the thirsty?  Did we welcome the stranger?  Did we clothe the naked?  Did we care for the sick?  Did we visit the imprisoned?  These are the Corporal Works of Mercy, and they are not optional for a disciple.  Their execution may look different depending on our vocation.  After all, what mother or father has not fed a hungry child, or clothed him or her (or possibly even a spouse who didn’t know how to dress himself?), or cared for the sick?  For spouses and parents, the more challenging works may be how to prudently welcome the stranger (how many times do we hear as a young child about stranger danger?).  But think about it in our own parish.  If we see someone we don’t know, do we take the time to welcome them to the parish?  We don’t have the scare them by swooping in like a hawk anytime we see someone new (there are plenty of bad examples of people being turned off to the faith because those who approached them saw them merely as numbers to add to the flock, rather than people who may be searching).  But do we ask them if they want to sit by us, or if maybe they need help following the Mass because it’s been awhile since they last went, or maybe they’re unfamiliar with the prayers?  That may be more natural for me, as a priest, as I greet people after Mass, but I can continue to work on it.  Maybe for me as a priest the challenge is more how to clothe the naked, or feed the hungry.  Some of the corporal works of mercy will always challenge us, while others will come to us more naturally.  But we should work at incorporating them all into our life whenever and however we can.
    Sometimes God gives us opportunities to exercise those corporal works of mercy, and we only need respond.  There’s a story about a woman named Wanda Dench who, eight years ago, texted a person she thought was her grandson about Thanksgiving plans.  The grandson had changed his number without telling grandma.  So instead of her grandson, she texted a young man named Jamal Hinton who was in high school.  They figured out the error, but then Jamal asked if he could still come over for Thanksgiving dinner.  Even though Wanda didn’t know Jamal from Adam, Wanda texted, “Of course you can. That’s what grandmas do…feed everyone.”  And for eight years, they have spent Thanksgiving together.  I don’t know if Jamal needed a free meal, but he probably needed somewhere to go for Thanksgiving, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked.  There may have been numerous reasons not to allow Jamal over.  But Wanda felt called to have Jamal over, and it has become a beautiful story of generosity.
    Christ will return in glory, “to judge the living and the dead,” as we proclaim every Sunday in the Creed.  When exactly, we don’t know, but it will happen.  Until then, Christ invites us to live out the Corporal Works of Mercy as part of following Him, so that when He does return, He will find us ready to welcome Him as our triumphant King.  As St. Peter says in his first epistle:
 

The end of all things is at hand.  Therefore, be serious and sober for prayers.  Above all, let your love for another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins.  Be hospitable to one another without complaining.  As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God’s varied grace…so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belong glory and dominion forever and ever.  Amen.

Not Safe, But Good

Feast of Christ the King
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In his wonderful work, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis has a dialogue between the three children and Mr. Beaver, where Mr. Beaver introduces the character of Aslan.  Mr. Beaver says that Aslan is:

“the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea.  […]Aslan is a lion–the Lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “…Is he–quite safe?  I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mr. Beaver.  “If there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver.  “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you?  Who said anything about safe?  ‘Course he isn’t safe.  But he’s good.  He’s the King, I tell you.”

As we celebrate Christ the King, we celebrate the King to whom Aslan points, not safe, but good; the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, whom we, the sons of Adam and Eve, can embrace as our brother, but a Lion, nonetheless.

    Christ as a King is both a strong warrior who defeats the enemy at the gates, but also our brother, by our adoption by His Divine Father.  Words limp at such an apparent paradox.  Christ Himself tells parable about killing the enemies of the king, and says on the night before His Passion that the prince of this world is being cast out.  And at the same time He asks the woman caught in adultery, “‘Has no one condemned you?  Neither then do I condemn you.  Go, and from now on, sin no more.’”  He is the Good Samaritan who binds up our wounds, puts us on His beast, and takes us to the inn where He pays for our recovery; but at the same time He is the one who “will put those wicked men to a wicked end” for not taking care of His vineyard and harming and killing the messengers of the vineyard owner.  He is, in the Apocalypse, the Lamb who was slain, and yet who has a sword which comes from His mouth to strike down the nations that oppose Him. 
    Perhaps that is why we are presented with two distinct images of His Kingship in our readings: St. Paul’s description of the Lord as the firstborn of all creation, the head of the body, the Church, who has primacy over everything; and the innocent victim, standing before the merely temporal Roman governor, yet submitting to Pilate’s decision that would mean the sacrifice of Christ’s life.  Christ, like Aslan, is both approachable and terrifying; Lover and Lord. 
    Perhaps that is why our relationship with Christ the King is also so hard to explain and put into words.  The Lord says in John, chapter 15, “‘You are my friends if you do what I command you.  I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing.  I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father.’”  But then St. Paul, who met the same Christ on the road to Damascus, refers to himself as “Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus,” in his epistle to the Romans.  St. Ignatius of Loyola would “baptize” his former life as a mercenary, and talk about himself as a knight serving the King of Kings.  While St. Catherine of Siena would describe the Lord as “sweet Jesus, Jesus, Love.”  The responsory from the post-Conciliar Divine Office for the Second Reading on the Memorial of Sts. Cornelius and Cyprian says, “We are warriors now, fighting on the battlefield of faith, and God sees all we do; the angels watch and so does Christ.  What honor and glory and joy, to do battle in the presence of God and to have Christ approve our victory.”  While St. Theresa of Calcutta saw Christ hanging on the cross, telling her, “I thirst” and asking her to quench that thirst by serving the poorest of the poor.  All of those images are true, as contradictory as they may seem at first glance.
    His Eminence, Cardinal Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, recently issued a pastoral letter to the Patriarchate which also expresses this tension.  He meditates on words from the Gospel of John, “‘I have told you this so that you might have peace in me.  In the world you will have tribulations, but take courage, I have conquered the world.”  The Cardinal writes:
 

[Christ] addresses these words to His disciples, who will shortly be tossed about, as if in a storm, before His death.  They will panic, scatter and flee, like sheep without a shepherd.
    Yet, this last word of Jesus is an encouragement.  He does not say that He shall win, but that He has already won.  Even in the turmoil to come, the disciples will be able to have peace.  This is not a matter of theoretical irenic peace, nor of resignation to the fact that the world is evil, and we can do nothing to change it.  Instead it is about having the assurance that precisely within all this evil, Jesus has already won.  Despite the evil ravaging the world, Jesus has achieved a victory, and established a new reality, a new order, which after the resurrection will be issued by the disciples who were reborn in the Spirit. 
    It was on the cross that Jesus won: not with weapons, not with political power, not by great means, nor by imposing himself.  The peace He speaks of has nothing to do with victory over others.  He won the world by loving it.

This letter was written for the Feast of Our Lady of Palestine, celebrated on 25 October, in the midst of yet another war in the Holy Land, the Land of the King of Kings and Prince of Peace.
    What can we do as we celebrate Christ the King, which is also the anniversary our our own Traditional Latin Mass Community in Flint?  We do our best to live in imitation of our King, Conqueror and Victim, Conqueror because He is Victim.  We do our best to put to death the works of evil, starting with ourselves and the planks that are in our own eyes, but also working to promote life by opposing the evils without and the splinters in the eyes of our neighbors.  We seek the victory and the triumph which so often are made manifest through the rituals of this beautiful Mass, doing so by the reality to which this Mass points, the sacrifice of Christ on the cross, lived out in our own lives daily.  We do not shun the cross, but realize that Christ reigns from a the throne of a tree, and so we seek to reign with Him through our own daily crucifixions. 

    Christ is a King, and He is our brother.  We kneel before Him in fealty, and we run to embrace Him in love.  We acknowledge that He is not a domesticated animal, that He is not safe, but that He is good, in fact, Goodness Incarnate.  Christus vincit!  Christus regnat!  Christus imperat!  Christ conquers!  Christ reigns!  Christ commands!  He who is one with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.  Amen.   

Already and Not Yet

Feast of Christ the King
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As we celebrate Christ the King, we celebrate what is, but also long for what is to come.  We see this even in our Lord’s description of His kingdom.  In the Gospel according to St. Mark, in the very first chapter, Christ says, “‘This is the time of fulfillment.  The kingdom of God is at hand.”  In the Gospel according to St. Luke, in chapter 21, the same Christ says, “‘behold, the kingdom of God is among you.’”  And yet, as we heard today, Christ also says in the Gospel according to St. John, “‘My kingdom does not belong to this world.  If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants [would] be fighting to keep me from being handed over….  But as it is, my kingdom is not here.’”  So, which is it?  Is the kingdom at hand and even among us, or is it not here?

    Yes.  Yes it is at hand; yes it is among us; yes it is not here.  As with so many aspects of our faith, we need to unpack the idea of Christ’s kingdom.  The Incarnation is the presence of the Kingdom of God, where all is right.  Christ holds all things together in himself, and in Christ we have the perfect union of God and man, which is part of the kingdom.  In Christ, the human soul is subject to the will of God perfectly, and the body is subject to the human soul.  In Christ, love and truth have met, justice and peace have kissed (to cite Psalm 84).  
    But, and you don’t have to look hard to realize this next point, we’re not living in the fullness of the kingdom.  Our bodies do not always obey our souls, which do not always obey the will of God.  Love is distorted to mean delight or even license; justice is often available to the highest bidder and is applied differently if you have money and/or power than if you don’t; civil unrest, battles, and wars still plague our cities, State, nation, and world.  Sorry, Belinda Carlisle, but heaven is not a place on earth.      And yet, as followers of Christ live the Gospel, heaven does break into earth more and more, and the kingdom establishes itself more perfectly.  When we love to the best of our ability with the love of God, the kingdom grows.  When we proclaim the truth of the Gospel, the truth that the Church continues to unpack throughout the centuries, the kingdom grows.  When we not only give each other his or her due, but also help others to thrive, the kingdom grows.  When we are able to pray for our enemies and do good to those who persecute us, the kingdom grows.  This is not to say that we are the ones who bring about the kingdom; that work is always primarily the work of God, with which we participate.  The approach that we have to usher in the kingdom tends to go wrong pretty quickly, due to our own sinfulness.  Just look at the approach taken in Central America which sought to bring about the kingdom, but which ended up being Marxist regimes that oppressed the people and led to class warfare and societal instability.
    It is Christ who brings about His own kingdom, and He will fully establish His reign at the end of time, when His angels will separate the sheep from the goats, the wheat from the chaff, and will cast down the beast and its followers for eternity in Hell.  That will be a dies irae for those who work against God, and the battle will be swift and decisively victorious for Christ.
    It will be decisive because Christ already decisively conquered on a tree.  His sacrifice, re-presented for us in an unbloody manner on this altar, was the defining battle of all time, when Satan was conquered once-for-all, and sin and death were trod underfoot.  So Christ already achieved victory, but that victory has not been extended in totality yet.  And that is why we wait.
    And as we wait, we show if we want to be victorious in Christ, or conquered with the ancient foe.  We demonstrate whether we prefer to serve in heaven or reign in hell.  Our actions are our response to the invitation of eternal salvation in the kingdom of God.  Are we going to the wedding feast of the kingdom, or do we find excuses why we cannot attend?
    If we wish that kingdom to spread, if we wish to cooperate in spreading that kingdom, then it begins here.  If Christ is the kingdom of God in its fullness, then when we receive Holy Communion worthily, the kingdom of God is among us and even within us.  Coming to Mass, offering ourselves with the host and the wine, and then receiving in a state of grace the Eucharist allows the kingdom of God to be planted inside of us at least each week, or even every day.  The more that we receive the Eucharist in a state of grace, the more likely it is that we will respond to spreading that kingdom in our lives at work, at home, on vacation, at sporting events, etc.  
    That kingdom also spreads most easily through the domestic church, the family.  When parents demonstrate love, the children learn to do the same.  When children and parents tell the truth, God’s kingdom is strengthened among them.  When parents make sure that every member of the family has the ability, not only to survive but to thrive, the justice of the Kingdom of God grows.  When children learn how to say “I’m sorry” when they have done wrong, and when children see their parents apologize for their sins in confession and in the home, Christ’s kingship is established more and more.  And then those children are more likely to do the same in the homes and families that they make for themselves.  And the kingdom spreads even more.  
    If you wish to help the kingdom God, then love, not only your neighbors, but also your enemies.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, tell the truth, be honest in contracts.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, stand up for what is right, no matter how unpopular it may be, correct with charity, when appropriate, and administer discipline as your state calls you.  If you wish to help the kingdom of God, admit when you’re wrong, and forgive when others have wronged you.  It will help show the “already” of the kingdom, and will allow us to persevere in the “not yet,” until Christ reigns fully, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Loyalty to our Team

 Feast of Christ the King
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Yesterday there was a big game, at least if you’re a college football fan in the State of Michigan.  Undefeated University of Michigan Wolverines, ranked 6 in the US, played the undefeated Michigan State University Spartans, ranked 8 in the US.  While there are other universities and colleges in the State, there does seem to be a general division between Michigan and Michigan State.  In fact, that was one of the first questions Bishop Boyea was asked when he was announced as the newest bishop of Lansing back in 2008 (to which he demurred).  

    It is interesting that we put so much weight on loyalty to a particular football team.  Some have loyalty because they attended that school.  Others like a winning record, or the history of a particular program.  I must admit that I have supported both schools in the past, as my parents both went to Michigan State, but I have some very good friends who attended Michigan.  Some, like me, go back and forth, or try to split their loyalties, especially if you have kids who go to either university.
    But today, as we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King, and the thirty-second anniversary of the Traditional Latin Mass community in Flint, we deal with something much bigger than college football.  We are invited to renew our loyalty to Christ the King, to a King who will suffer no rivals, at least not in the end; to a King who is head and ruler of His Mystical Body, the Church; to a King who has myriad of angels waiting on His command; to a King who suffered and suffers our rejection patiently, hoping for us to convert.
    Those may seem like contradictions, but in Christ what would normally be a contradiction is held in the tension of the truest reality that exists.  Christ is both King who has no equal, but who also humbles Himself.  We see it in His exchange with Pontius Pilate.  St. John is very clear in His Gospel that Christ is always in control.  And yet, He engages in a kind of dialogue with Pilate, sometimes responding, sometimes in silence, which propels Christ to the Cross, which is His perfect throne on earth.  He admits that He has angels who would protect Him from any harm.  And yet, a chapter later, He will allow His sacred hands and feet to be pierced so that our rejection of our King could be healed and forgiven.  
    Christ is a patient king, and that should give us hope.  He allows us time to turn back to Him after we have turned away, because we are part of Him, and He wants us to be a part of His Kingdom.  This is not an excuse to be lax, or to presume on His mercy, but it does encourage us that, when we are not the subjects that we are supposed to be, because Christ wants to be generous with His mercy.  
    Further, since Christ is the Head of His Mystical Body, and we are members of that Mystical Body by baptism, Christ wants us to remain part of Him, reigning in heaven, just as we would like to retain all of our body.  Only those parts of the body that are dead need to be cut off, so Christ does all He can to nurse back to health ailing parts of the body.  So we should never be afraid of running to Christ for mercy when we have sinned.
    But at some point, both individually and collectively, our opportunity for mercy will come to an end, and our decisions about which kingdom we are loyal to–the kingdom of darkness, as St. Paul says, or the kingdom of light–will be a final decision, with no chance of turning back.  For many, that comes after death, when our loyalty or disloyalty to God will be locked in for all eternity.  Or it could come when Christ returns in glory at the end of time.  But we don’t know when that will be, in either scenario.  And that calls us to prepare.
    As we enter into November, we can spend especially the next month (and every day of our life) we call to mind the four last things: death, judgement, heaven, and hell.  We shouldn’t be neurotic about it, and so concentrated on death that we lose the joy of life and the blessings Christ our King gives to us.  But, as we are faced with temptations, when we consider that we are choosing our loyalty to heaven or hell with each choice, it helps us to make better choices and become more and more each day a part of the Kingdom of Christ.  
    Yesterday, before the game at noon, no one knew who would win: Michigan or Michigan State.  People had their loyalties based on their own reasoning.  But when it comes to the Kingdom of Christ, our Lord has already won; there is no competition or challenge left from the enemy.  But while our Lord has won, we are still in the last seconds of the contest of eternal salvation, and these last seconds will decide, not who wins, but whether or not we’re on the winning team.  Choose your loyalty carefully.  Be sure you know which kingdom you’re trending towards.  Long live Christ the King!  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

Jesus' Crown

 Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

     Some time back I got into watching “The Crown,” a Netflix series which dramatizes the reign of Queen Elizabeth II, starting with right before she ascended the throne.  Season 4 just came out, and it only took me a couple of days to watch the 10 episodes.  This season especially covers the story of Prince Charles and Princess Diana–how they met, their courtship, and the beginning of their rocky marriage.  Season 4 ends before they get divorced, so there’ll be more to come next year in Season 5.
    To be fair, this is a drama series, not a documentary, so, as a fellow priest pointed out after watching the latest season, there are things which certainly were exaggerated or added for cinematic purposes.  But, whether exaggerated or not, what came through in Season 4 was how selfish both Prince Charles and Princess Diana were.  I don’t want to give away too much, but in the episodes, throughout their rocky marriage, it was clear that each wanted to be the most important in the relationship and wanted the other to have a supporting role, which is not the best approach for marriage.
    When we think of queens, kings, princes, and princesses, we tend to think of power.  Indeed, we tend to view everything as an exercise of power these days.  Modern political and social thought has cast everything in the light of who has power, who should have power, and how more power can be gained by this or that group or cause.  So perhaps this idea of power struggle has bled its way into our minds as we approach this Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, our last Sunday in Ordinary Time, which we celebrate today.  
    But what does Jesus show us time and time again about His reign?  Not that He doesn’t have power.  In fact, Jesus says at the end of the Gospel according to Matthew, right before Jesus ascends into heaven, “‘All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.’”  It’s not as if Jesus has any equals when it comes to His power, any more than my legos as a child were in a power struggle with me.  But Jesus doesn’t use this power as a display of might, but as a commitment of service.  Jesus’ kingship is about doing the will of His Father, and helping us to reign with Jesus.  Everything Jesus did on earth and does in heaven is done with the goal of helping us to get to heaven and be in communion with the Most Blessed Trinity.  This approach a far cry from the self-centered, despotic uses of power that we are most accustomed to these days.
    Yes, Jesus’ power gives Him the right to judge the world at its end, to separate the sheep and the goats.  But Jesus uses this parable to teach us how we are to use the power Jesus shares with us, as we are baptized into him and become prophet, priest, and yes, king.  Jesus shows us that our use of power has to be the same as His, has to be one of service, especially to those who have nothing.  
    And that’s what we see from the saintly royals in the history of the church.  We just celebrated two royal saints last week: St. Margaret of Scotland, and St. Elizabeth of Hungary.  St. Elizabeth was a Hungarian princess, who was married at the age of 14, widowed at age 20, and died at age 24.  After her husband died, she made sure her children were taken care of, and quickly used her power and especially her money to build a hospital where she served the sick.  She gave up her royal trappings in order to serve.  St. Margaret of Scotland was an English princess who became Queen of Scotland.  She helped her husband grow in faith, served orphans and the poor every day before she ate, and washed the feet of the poor, in addition to her own daily habits of prayer.  She saw her position and power as an opportunity to show others the love of Christ, rather than lording it over them.  
    So for us, who have the baptismal dignity of kings because we are part of the Mystical Body of Christ, who is Himself King of kings and Lord of lords, how do we exercise that power that Jesus has given us?  How do we exercise control over ourselves, most importantly, and, when part of our life, over others?  Is it for self-aggrandizement?  Is it to make sure others know who’s the boss?  Or is it to assist others to be the best that they can be, to serve them so that they can more easily continue on the pilgrim route to heaven?  
    So often we think that, if we have power, others need to focus on us and tend to our needs.  But the truth, as is so often the case in the Gospel, is that, for followers of Jesus, that’s the exact opposite of the way it should be.  Just as it sounds backwards to say that the poor in spirit, the meek, the peacemakers, those who hunger and thirst for justice, and those who mourn are truly blessed, so for those who have power, it is meant to be exercised in a way that focuses not on the self, but on the other.  If we use our power to serve, we probably won’t get a crown of gold with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, but we will get an eternal crown that does not rust or tarnish, with jewels that are the evidence of whom we chose to serve.  And that sounds like “the crown” that we would want.

Truth and Beauty

Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

When is a king most a king?  That might seem like a very academic question, but it impacts how we understand and celebrate this Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.  A king, I would suggest, is most a king when he has defeated his enemies, and his kingdom is secure.  The ideal of Jewish kings is King David, who conquered all of his enemies.  King Solomon, his son, is least kingly when he is conquered by his wives’ attachment to their foreign gods.  

So for we who celebrate this great festival, when is Jesus most a king?  When He has defeated His enemies, that is to say, Satan, sin, and death.  And when did Jesus do exactly that?  On the cross.  And so, Jesus is most kingly when He is on the cross, dying for our salvation, and, at the same time, destroying the reign of Satan over this world.  That helps us understand today’s Gospel, which is Christ being interrogated by Pontius Pilate.  Of course, this was right before Jesus was led away to His crucifixion.  Pilate asks about Jesus’ kingship, alleged by the chief priests, and Jesus answers that His kingdom is a kingdom of truth.  That truth was released upon the world in the most powerful way when Jesus was nailed to the cross, the truth that St. John the Evangelist also tells us, that, “God so loved the world that he gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”

Truth is related to something else: beauty.  We so often hear the false, yet ubiquitous statement, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”  Beauty, though, is not subjective, because it is the splendor of the truth, and truth is utterly objective.  Something is beautiful as much as it is true, or reflects the truth.  Lies are ugly.  Tonight we enjoy beautiful music.  It’s beautiful not simply because of the number of people, not simply because of the instrumentation, nor even the notes themselves, but because it reflects the truth of heaven.  Now, maybe Mozart isn’t played 24/7 in heaven, but the genius of Mozart, why it has stood the test of time, is that he tapped into something otherworldly, something heavenly, which helps us recognize the grandeur, the immensity, the order of heaven.  And this particular piece was made for the Mass, where heaven and earth are joined in harmony with each other in this sacred space.  Mozart maybe isn’t played in heaven 24/7, but it helps us to recognize that in this church we straddle both heaven and earth as we worship Christ our King, which is true of every Mass.  

Today we worship Christ, the King, who reigned most perfectly from the cross, and who still reigns perfectly in heaven as He continues to pour Himself out fully to God the Father for Christ’s Bride, the Church.  May our adherence to the truth prepare us for what God destines for us, a place in the Kingdom of Christ the King, where we will experience the fullness of the Beauty of God, in which we participate today.

Matthew 25: Setting the Bar

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

There can easily be a disconnect between our modern culture and the first reading and Gospel passage today.  They both focus on sheep and shepherding, which would have been a very common thing in Palestine around AD 33.  As we look forward toward Christmas, we know that the shepherds were one of the first to see the infant Jesus with Mary and Joseph.  But today, I can probably think of only person that I know that owns sheep.  Sheep aren’t quite as common today as people who have chickens or cattle or horses, though goats are starting to make a comeback in some areas (there are more and more videos on Facebook with goats doing funny things).  

So the idea of a sheep and shepherd might be a bit out there for us.  But we probably understand the metaphor well enough to get what Ezekiel and Jesus are saying to the people: God is going to shepherd His people, gather them together, and judge between the sheep (which are good) and the goats (which are bad).  In fact, one of the oldest depictions of Jesus is as the Good Shepherd in the catacombs of Pope St. Callixtus I in Rome.  

As we celebrate this weekend Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, we celebrate a Shepherd-King.  Yes, Jesus is our King, not an elected official.  We can’t vote Jesus out of office if we don’t like Him.  By virtue of the fact that we were conceived, we became subjects of a king.  However, at the end our of life, we will be judged and will be in the Kingdom of Jesus, “a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace,” or in the kingdom of Satan, a kingdom of lies and death, of sin and vice, a kingdom of injustice, hatred, and war.  And as it turns out, it is not so much that we are sent to one of those kingdoms, but our actions on this earth determine of which kingdom we want to be a part.  

Over the past few weeks we have heard how we will be judged: two weeks ago we heard that we need to be ready for the Bridegroom to return, and to focus our lives on that one goal above all others, and be like the wise virgins; last week we heard that we need to use the talents God gave us to help us enter the kingdom of heaven; and this week we hear that it is how we treat Jesus in this life, especially in the least of His brothers, that will determine in which kingdom we will live eternally.  

The kingdom of heaven has been described over the past few weeks as a wedding party, and, on the flip side, hell has been described as outer darkness, a place of “wailing and grinding of teeth.”  And today Jesus describes hell as an eternal punishment of fire, but heaven as the place of the blessings of God and eternal life.  

It is easy to think of hell as the place for the most degenerate of persons: Hitler, Stalin, bin Laden, and Charles Manson.  It is easy to think of heaven as the default where everybody goes as long as they don’t commit genocide or murder.  But Jesus doesn’t talk today about murderers going to hell.  The people who go to hell are those who didn’t feed others, give others a drink of water, welcome the stranger, give clothing to the naked, and visit the ill and in prison.  Those are the people who will go to eternal punishment.  That might sound harsh if it were me saying it, but Jesus, Mercy Incarnate, is the one who sets the bar, and it’s certainly a gut-check for me, as it likely is for you.  God wants everyone to go to heaven; we are also told that in Scripture in St. Paul’s first letter to St. Timothy.  But if we put together all of chapter 25 of the Gospel according to Matthew, the Gospel passages for the last two weeks and this week, heaven is for those who have kept themselves focused on waiting for the Bridegroom, using their talents that God has given them, and serving Christ in others.  To the extent that we do that, we are being prepared for heaven.  To the extent that we ignore chapter 25, we are being prepared for hell.  In our life each day, we are either going one way or another; there’s no standing still in our spiritual lives.  We are either moving closer to God, or farther away from Him.  

The good news is that we have today to move towards God, impelled by His grace.  We don’t have yesterday; all we can do is ask forgiveness for our past sins in confession, a sacrament that moves us closer to God.  We don’t have tomorrow; all we can do is hope that we will accept God’s grace to continue moving toward Him.  But we do have today, and we do have opportunities to move closer to God through prayer, worship, and service.  If we follow God and where He tells us to go in our daily lives, we know He only leads us to heaven because He is the Good Shepherd.  And if we follow the Good Shepherd, we will end up in the verdant pastures, near restful waters, where “only goodness and kindness follow me” as we “dwell in the house of the Lord.”

The King of Glory

Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

I think it would be safe to say that the secretary at my last parish was borderline obsessed with British royalty.  I did her wedding not long after I arrived at St. Joseph in Adrian, and one of her hymns was the same one that was used at the royal wedding.  She would often try to find less expensive versions of dresses that Katherine wears, and when the value of the British pound dropped after Brexit, she and her husband started to make plans to visit.

But America’s love of royalty is not limited to her.  For six years millions of Americans watched “Downton Abbey,” about a British noble family and their servants.  The final season finale drew 9.6 million viewers, so clearly there are a good number of people who like royalty and nobility.  And America even “created” it’s own royal family in John and Jackie Kennedy.  But what do we love about it?  Is it the fancy clothes?  Is the crowns and swords and ceremonial uniforms?  Is it the tradition?  Is it the power?

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.  Even just after our presidential election, we are celebrating a King.  We heard in our first reading a little about the best example of a Jewish king, King David.  King David was the model for all kings who followed, even though David himself wasn’t a perfect king (remember that story about Bathsheba, and how got her pregnant, even though she was someone else’s wife, and then eventually killed her husband to cover up the adultery?).  In fact, when the Archangel Gabriel appears to Mary to tell her that she will be the Mother of God, Gabriel says, “‘He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’”  

But in the rest of the Gospels, Jesus shies away from this heritage, of being a king in the line of David.  In John 6, the people want to make Jesus king after he feeds them miraculously.  But Jesus hides away, and does not let them.  The closest Jesus comes to accepting the fulfillment of the Davidic prophecy of a great king is on Palm Sunday, when Jesus receives the praise from the people that we heard in our Alleluia verse: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!  Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is to come!”

So why is Jesus so hesitant to be cast as a king in the line of David during His earthly ministry?  If He is a king, why not accept the recognition by the people that He is a king?

Jesus is a king unlike any other, and He does not accept earthly kingship from His own people because their idea of kingship was different than God’s.  Jesus was not concerned with the fancy clothes, the crowns and swords and ceremonial uniforms.  And He was certainly not concerned with power, though all power in heaven and earth belonged to Him.  Our Gospel today shows us what the kingship of Jesus is like: a suffering kingship, that does not seek power, but empties itself out for the good of His people.  Jesus on earth does not rule from a throne of gold, but from the throne of the cross.  In Orthodox churches, their large crucifixes do not have INRI above them like ours (INRI is an abbreviation for Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum, which is Latin for Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews).  Instead, the inscription reads: The King of Glory, to remind them how Christ was glorified, and how we are to be glorified: through the cross.

Can we accept Jesus as our king on the cross?  Sometimes Protestants accuse us of wanting to crucify Jesus again and again because we give such a prominent place to Jesus on the cross, what we commonly call a crucifix, in our churches.  But that is our constant reminder of how Jesus reigns: on the cross.  As our preface before the Eucharistic prayer says, Jesus’ kingdom is “an eternal and universal kingdom, a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, and kingdom of justice, love and peace.”  

Jesus has all power, and yet He, the Lord of Lords, does not lord His power over us.  He invites us to accept His reign, but He does not force it upon us.  There will come a day, at the end of time, when His kingdom will be the only kingdom.  There will be no more lies and death, no more sin and sorrow, no more injustice, hatred, and war.  And at that time, we will be recognized as a part of that kingdom based on how we accepted that kingdom while here on earth.  Instead of being a part of a kingdom because of where we are born, we become a part of Christ’s kingdom by the rebirth of baptism, and we remain a part of that kingdom by being faithful in word and deed throughout the rest of our life.  May we be obsessed, in the best sense of the word, not with British royalty, but with being subjects of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.

Building a Kingdom of Justice

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

            One of the great things about being Catholic, is that we have form prayers to say.  If you’re at a meal and you’re asked to pray, you can fall back on “Bless us, O Lord…”  If you can’t find the words because of joy or sorrow, you can always seem to get out, “Hail Mary, full of grace…”  Or maybe you’re trying to find the perfect prayer, so you use the one the Jesus taught us: “Our Father…”  The blessing is that when we can’t find our own words, we can use words that others have given us over the centuries.  But the difficulty is that sometimes when we say a prayer so often, we miss the words that are in the prayer, because it is so easy to rattle off the memorized formula.

            In the Our Father, for example, we pray, “thy kingdom come.”  If we go to Mass every Sunday and Holyday like we should, we pray that prayer at least 57 times a year.  My guess is we’ve said it many, many more times than that.  And yet, each time we say it, we are affirming that we want God’s kingdom to come.  Not the kingdom of the world.  Not even my own kingdom.  But God’s kingdom. 

            Today we celebrate Christ the King of the Universe.  Not just king of a part of the world.  Not just the king of one faith.  He is the King of the Universe, of all things, whether His kingship is acknowledged or not.  Whether we like it or not, Jesus’ kingdom will come.  Whether we mean it or not, Jesus’ kingdom will come.  But, our judgment will be much easier if our will is already approaching the will of our king, and if the words we speak in the Our Father do not merely come from our vocal chords, but from our heart. 

            In the end, there are only really two kingdoms: the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of the Evil One.  Dichotomies don’t usually hold true.  Life is rarely as simple as either A or B.  And yet, at the end of time, there will be those for Christ, or those against Him; those in Heaven or those in Hell.  Our life work, the sign that we are faithful citizens of the Kingdom of God, is that our will is lined up with, and really subjected to, the will of God.  The more we insist on our own will over and against God, the less we are true subjects of the King of Kings, at least beyond in name only.

            Jesus never forces us to be a part of His kingdom.  And His reign often doesn’t look very enticing.  In our Gospel, Jesus is reigning from the cross.  He is being sneered at and mocked.  This isn’t the way we’re used to seeing kings.  Yet the good thief, whom tradition names St. Dismas, recognizes Jesus and says, “‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’”  And Jesus, the good King, offers salvation to St. Dismas that very day.  Jesus’ kingdom sometimes doesn’t look so appealing.  It is sometimes hidden in external failure.  It is clothed in meekness.  And it is never forced.  If we want to build our own kingdom that is against God, Jesus will let us, because He allows us to use the gift of free will that He gave us, so that His Kingdom is not forced on us, but welcomed with love.

To check ourselves, to examine the conscience, we can ask ourselves whether or not we want Jesus’ kingdom to come.  We can ask ourselves if the words of the Our Father ring true in our hearts, or are just empty words.  And we can see the beginning of that in how we respond to the teaching of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church.  In particular, the parish council and Fr. Jerry are asking all of us to focus on the Church’s teaching (therefore, Jesus’ teaching) on social justice. 

That term is pretty loaded.  I don’t think I would shock anyone to say that this location in our one parish tends to be associated, accurately or inaccurately, with a particular political party.  And the other location in our one parish tends to be associated, again, accurately or inaccurately, with another political party.  Social justice tends to be associated more frequently with one political party.  But, as far as our faith goes, there is neither Democrat, nor Republican, Libertarian or Socialist.  Christ calls all of us to practice social justice. 

The Compendium to the Catechism of the Catholic Church states, “Society ensures social justice when it respects the dignity and the rights of the person as the proper end of society itself.  Furthermore, society pursues social justice, which is linked to the common good and to the exercise of authority, when it provides the conditions that allow associations and individuals to obtain what is there due.”  In practice: how do I assist the poor?  How do I ensure that I do not value capital over the human person?  How do I show solidarity with those who have less than me?  How do I promote the dignity of work and encourage others to use their gifts for the benefit of the city, State, and country?  How do I defend the innocent, especially the baby in the womb and the elderly?  How do I defend the family as the building block of human society, and promote a culture that ensures that children have the best environment in which to develop: a loving father and mother?  How do I vote so as to promote the Gospel?  How do I work for peace?

In our parish we have people who work hard for social justice, on both sides of Burcham.  We have business leaders who leave extremely generous tips to waitresses who didn’t think they would be able to provide Christmas gifts for their children.  Our Food Bank at St. John feeds many people.  The Giving Trees, organized by the St. Vincent de Paul Societies, and that will soon be up, provide necessities and niceties for families in need.  Our school children have had the opportunity to work in soup kitchens.  Our right to life group marches in DC as a witness to our legislators to defend life in our laws.  There are so many other ways.  St. John Church & Student Center does not have a monopoly on social justice.  St. Thomas Aquinas does not have a monopoly on social justice.  We each do things well, and we each need to be challenged in the areas in which we can grow.  As one parish family, united in one Kingdom of Christ, we need to work together to work for social justice: not as one side of the faith, or the work of a political party, but as members of the Kingdom of God who are called to do our best to make this City of Man look more and more like the City of God.

Will we cooperate with the grace of God, without which we cannot build the City of God, that city that only Christ can truly complete?  Will we be members of Christ’s Kingdom?  Or will we rather build our kingdom?  May our hearts and our actions reflect the words we say today: thy kingdom come.

¡Que viva Cristo Rey!

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

            American’s seem to have a love/hate relationship with monarchies.  The very founding of our country was based upon the fact that we wanted a republican democracy, where, instead of the King of England, we would elect representatives to enact laws, representatives that we could then vote out of office.  We love our rugged independence, so much so that, in order to prevent even coming close to a monarchy, we only allow our elected presidents to serve two terms.

            On the other hand, the common idea of the “Golden Age” of American, despite all it’s trials and tribulations, was the time of Camelot (a monarchial reference) when we had John F. Kennedy as president, and Jackie as First Lady, whom many considered, and some still consider, America’s royalty.  And how many people stayed up to watch the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton, Duchess of Cambridge last May?  There’s something about royalty that draws us in.

            And so, as we celebrate the Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ the King we probably have mixed feelings.  On the one hand, I think we’re still enamored with the idea of a king in royal robes with a stately court.  Some of us love the idea of having a king for whom we can offer our lives.  It’s a very personal way of service.  On the other hand, some of us don’t like to think of Jesus as a king, however benevolent.  We would much rather have democracy, and choice of the people.  Monarchies seem, to these people, to be contrary to the very dignity of the human person.

            The history of this feast probably only further solidifies each camp’s position.  Pope Pius XI created this celebration in his Encyclical Quam primas in 1925, in response to growing trends of nationalism and secularism, reminding Catholics that, while they are legitimately part of a nation, there is a high authority, the King of kings, to whom we owe all our loyalty and fealty.  To be honest, then, there’s bad news for both those who love monarchy, and those who hate it.

            The bad news for those who hate monarchy is that Jesus is a King.  He’s a benevolent King, but He is the King of kings.  We cannot elect Him out of office if we don’t like His policies.  We cannot veto His teachings when they make us uncomfortable or when we dislike them.  We have the choice of accepting His rule over our entire lives: marriage, sexuality, work, charity, liturgy, justice, etc., or rejecting it.  Of course, as our Creator, our King knows what is best for us and what will make us truly happy, so following the decrees of the King is really in our best interest, because our King is not moved by greed, the desire for power or popularity, or any ill will, but rules by love, which is always faithful to the truth.  At the end of our lives, when we are judged, we will be part of a kingdom.  We will either be subjects of Christ the King in Purgatory or Heaven, or we will be subjects of Satan in Hell.  Those are the two options, without middle ground.  So part of us may have to get used to the idea of being in a monarchy.

            For those who love monarchy, the bad news is that our King is not a king like others.  He is indeed seated on a throne, as the Book of Revelation tells us, but, as our readings tell us today, He is a Shepherd-King.  He does not rule with a scepter, but with the shepherd’s staff.  His crown is the crown of thorns, the marks still being born on his body of his love.  All of our readings this year focus on Christ as the Shepherd, and this needs to instruct our understanding of Christ as King.

            In the first reading, the Lord speaks through Ezekiel the prophet saying, “I myself will look after and tend my sheep…I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark.  I myself will pasture my sheep; I myself will give them rest.”  Our King will seek out the lost sheep, will bring them back, and will heal the sick sheep.  I’m told by sheep farmers that sheep cannot be chased by a shepherd.  They will simply run away, farther from the safety that the shepherd provides.  But sheep can and want to be led.  If the shepherd approaches slowly and leads the flock, they will follow.  The Good Shepherd, as Jesus tells us in the Gospel according to John, lays down his life for His sheep.  Our King, our Shepherd-King, so loves us, his sheep, that when the wolves of sin and death and evil come to attack us, He does battle with them to protect us.  And, having protected us, he gives us rest in green pastures, refreshes our souls, and sets a feast before us so that we only receive goodness and kindness, and dwell in the Lord’s house, the Kingdom of our Shepherd-King.

            But, our shepherd cares for sheep, not goats.  So we have to examine our conscience to see in which group we fall.  Because at the end of time, as we hear in the Gospel, our Shepherd-King will separate the sheep from the goats.  The sheep, those who ministered to Jesus in the least of His brothers and sisters, will go on to eternal reward.  The goats, those who neglected Jesus in the least of His brothers and sisters, will go on to eternal punishment. 

            Whether we like it or not, Jesus is King of the Universe, and all things fall under His rule.  But, our King is not a despot or a tyrant.  He is a Shepherd, who wants to protect us and care for us, leading us to good pasture, if only we will follow Him.  And how we follow Him is made known by the way we live out our faith.  May our lives and our words echo those of the Mexican martyrs who chose to be executed by firing squad rather than deny the authority of Christ over all parts of their lives: ¡Que viva Cristo Rey!  Long live Christ the King!