The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Homily for Today: the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

What does the word “king” mean to you?

Are you a romantic? Do you picture noble Arthur, holding court in Camelot, surrounded by his Knights of the Round Table, Excalibur at his side?

Or maybe Henry V, the young king, burdened with the responsibilities of the throne, and musing as he roams the camp the night before battle: “What infinite heart’s ease must Kings neglect, that private men enjoy?” Yeah, it’s lonely at the top.

Or do you think of David, the shepherd-king of Israel, a man after God’s own heart…and yet, like all of us, a sinful man, a man who committed adultery and murder. Or David’s son, the wise Solomon, builder of the first temple, a man with 700 wives and 300 concubines…a fact that has always led me to question his wisdom.

Or Herod the Great, Roman lackey and butcher of innocents.

Or Louis XVI, whose lack of vision and failure to recognize the signs, led him to the guillotine.

Maybe you think only of modern kings in their largely ceremonial roles, dressed in Armani suits and cutting ribbons to open new museums and industrial parks.

Or like many today, do you consider the idea of kingship an inconsequential reminder of less enlightened times, an incongruity in the modern world where the only good king is Burger King?

Why do I ask this question? Because your answer will strongly influence your reaction to today’s feast, the feast of Christ the King.

Why does the Church celebrate Christ as King? Why at this time, the last Sunday of the liturgical year? What should Christ’s Kingship mean to us?

For twelve months the liturgy has led us from Advent and the world’s expectation of a Savior, to His arrival among us as a helpless infant, through His ministry, His passion and His death, to His resurrection and His return to the Father. Then, beginning with Pentecost, we experienced the Church’s pilgrimage as it awaits Christ’s final coming in glorified splendor.

Today we celebrate the very pinnacle of this salvation history, when all that is, ever was, and ever will be is subjected to Christ’s rule. And as usual, St. Paul says it best: “…when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power.”

And Daniel prophesied this in today’s first reading: “He received dominion, glory and kingship; nations and peoples of every language serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away; His kingship shall not be destroyed.”

This is why the Church celebrates the feast of Christ the King when it does. Like the coda of a symphony, it not only brings the movement of salvation history to a decisive end, but also presents us with something wonderfully new.

Of course, we Americans haven’t thought very highly of kings since we snatched our nation from George III. And for some of us the very idea of Christ as King can be difficult to accept. It certainly was for Pilate in today’s Gospel.

It’s not as if Pilate didn’t accept the concept of kingship. He certainly did. After all, he worked for a king, Tiberius, the Roman Emperor.

But this Jesus? This meek itinerant teacher in a backwater of the Empire? Despite the gravity of the situation, Pilate must have been privately amused that anyone could consider such a man a king, much less a serious political threat.

But it was serious. Pilate would normally avoid Jewish religious squabbles. And in this instance his handling of these accusations could affect public order. One never knew what these stubborn and rebellious Jews might do. And the Empire couldn’t have people going around calling themselves kings. So his first question, although facetious, is still to the point. “Are you the King of the Jews?”

Jesus answers with a question of His own, not to evade but to ensure Pilate knows that the Kingdom He claims is a spiritual one and presents no threat to Rome’s earthly empire – an empire that will collapse soon enough under its own weight. In other words, Jesus tells Pilate the accusations against Him are false. He goes on to confirm this: “My kingdom does not belong to this world.”

The misinterpretation of these words has led many Christians to a false concept of God’s Kingdom, as a sort of Disneyland castle in the sky, as something totally separate from our lives on earth. Nothing could be further from the truth. And it’s truth that Jesus then proclaims to Pilate: “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.”

So Jesus affirms His Kingship openly and unequivocally. Indeed, that He came to establish a kingdom was clear from the moment He began His public ministry.

Read the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel. “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand.” Then reread the Gospel parables in which Jesus reveals its mysteries. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed…like leaven…a treasure hidden in a field…a merchant in search of fine pearls…a net thrown into the sea.

It’s a spiritual kingdom, a kingdom founded on eternal truth. But Pilate can’t accept the truth, or even the idea that truth exists. In the very next verse, Pilate cynically, almost flippantly, turns to Jesus and asks his famous question, “What is truth?”

Yes, Pilate was no captive of his times; he was a man for all seasons. He’d be right at home in our cynical, relativistic, self-absorbed 21st century culture. If the truth gets in your way…no problem. Just bend it, or redefine it, or create a new truth out of a lie. Or even better, simply deny that truth exists.

What, then, is the truth about this spiritual Kingdom? Well, as Jesus told us, it’s not of this world…but it’s certainly in this world. It’s in the Church He founded. It’s in each one of us who bears witness to the truth of God’s Revelation. The Kingdom isn’t a place. It’s a people, God’s people of faith responding in obedience and love to the will of their King…a King who owns us body and soul, who purchased us on the cross with his blood.

Although we’re His only to the extent that we acknowledge Him as Lord, empty words mean nothing. How did He put it? “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father.” We are saved, then, when, in faith, we do God’s will, and not by merely appealing to His good will.

You see, the pleading noises of those who would be saved despite their indifference to God’s will is in stark contrast to the silence of those who implore God, not with words, but by reforming their lives. This reformation can occur only if I freely allow God’s grace to shape my will to His, only if I allow Christ the King to rule over me.

And yet how many of us today are ruled instead by an independent will, a will in rebellion against God? The same kind of will that led Satan, the original rebel, to make his fateful choice: “I will not serve.”

Fortunately, unlike Satan, we can still choose. Jesus isn’t like earthly kings. He doesn’t compel obedience. He never forces Himself on us. In St. Augustine’s beautiful metaphor, He draws us to Him and His Kingdom with the cords of love.

Each of us, then, you and I, are called to serve Christ our King. And how are we to serve?

This is the wondrous part. Listen again to the words of St. John in today’s second reading from the Book of Revelation: He “has made us a royal nation of priests in the service of His God and Father.” All of us have a share in Christ’s priesthood, to do His work in the service of the Father. As St. Peter tells us, “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, that you may declare the wondrous deeds of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.”

In a few moments the father of our parish, Father Peter, will pray the beautiful Preface of Christ the King which affirms a “kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace.” This is the kingdom we are called to serve.

The question is, are we willing to serve, to carry the Word of God to an unbelieving world? Are we men and women of truth, conformed to God’s Will and faithful to His Law and to the teachings of His Church?

Does Christ our King live in us? Will the grace we receive today in the Eucharist transform our minds and hearts, making us into new creations?

Can we put aside the pragmatism of human justice and accept God’s perfect justice into our hearts? Do we give freely of our time, talent and treasure to Christ's Church?

Do we shelter the homeless, feed the hungry, visit the lonely, the sick, the imprisoned? Are we fathers to the fatherless? Mothers to the motherless?

Is our love for one another as outstretched as the arms of Christ on the cross?

God knows, I am not accusing you. For my own answers to these questions only show me how far I am from the kingdom.

And so, brothers and sisters, until the kingdom comes in glory, we all have a fair amount of priestly work to do. But you know something? We have the power to do it, for we do it with Jesus Christ, the King of kings, who grants us all a share in His own kingship.

God love you.

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