Today, we celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King. A day that marks the end of Ordinary Time, which means that, liturgically, that is, within Mass, time itself is changing, so that next weekend we will move into another season, the Season of Advent, the new liturgical year of the Church.
Yet, when we turn to our Gospel today, it doesn’t seem to fit our Solemnity, because if we were to picture a king, we might have a picture of a man with an ornate crown upon his head, perhaps wearing a few pieces of expensive jewelry, and dressed in the finest of robes, adorned, most likely, with silver or gold. He would probably be sitting upon a throne, one that enhances his lifestyle, and he would be surrounded by people who honor, respect and even fear him. In looking upon this person, there would be absolutely no doubt in our minds that this man, indeed, was a king.
Our Gospel paints this kingship differently, it paints Jesus as a mocked king. His crown is neither silver nor gold but, instead, made of thorns, He is not adorned with jewelry or fine robes; instead He has scourge marks upon His body, and is wearing nothing more than a loincloth. His throne is neither comfortable nor ornate, because His throne is a wooden cross upon which He rests His head.
His followers have all but abandoned Him, and those who remain, neither honor, respect nor fear Him, but, rather, taunt Him, mock Him, and spit upon Him, if He truly is a king, they say, He can command his angels to remove Him from the cross, if He truly is a king, He would not have been on the cross in the first place. So that the plank of wood placed above Him is not a sign to show honor or respect, but mockery and insult: “This is the King of the Jews.”
People were expecting a Savior, a king like that of David, they were looking for hope and all they seemingly got was someone who allowed Himself to be conquered, who allowed seeming defeat, was humiliated and killed.
Therefore, the great question that we might have, the same question that had to have remained in the hearts and minds of all of those who saw Him, all those who mocked Him, all of those who accused Him, all of those who trusted in Him, all of those who were drawn to Him in some way, is how can this man beaten, bruised, battered and crowned with thorns truly be a king?
The answer is found as He lies upon the throne of His cross, but most especially in how He responds to the thief on the cross next to Him, the only one who truly recognized Him as king. He says: “I promise you this day you will be with me in paradise.” Paradise is a word whose etymology means a royal park, a park that was usually attached to a royal palace.
Jesus, indeed, affirms that He is a king, but it is a kingship that only finds its beginning at the cross, it reaches its culmination, however, when He rises from the dead. Jesus, as we know, was no ordinary man but both God and man, so He rules His kingdom as both God and man.
By suffering, by dying and by rising again, He did conquer as king, because He conquered the greatest enemy, the unconquerable enemy, death itself. This is why it is no accident that His suffering and death are so intimately connected with His kingship, because, as our second reading reminds Jesus is “the firstborn from the dead” and He has made peace through the blood of His cross, because, as the firstborn from the dead, that is, of being the very first person to be able to come back to life from the dead, He has ultimate dominion, as God and man, over every one and everything, those in heaven, on earth, under the earth, those visible and invisible.
Therefore, He has conquered every single one of our enemies, not with a sword but with a bloodstained cross, and, in destroying death, He also did something no one else could do, He, freed us from our sins, because, as St. Paul reminds elsewhere: the wage of sin is death.
This is why, as king, His greatest desire is to rule our hearts so that He could reign as one who can bring us to His kingdom, bring us, as He did the Good thief, before His throne in Heaven.
However, before that can happen, before what we daily pray for in the “Our Father” is realized and His Kingdom, indeed, comes, we need to be prepared, which is what Advent does. What’s more is that despite Jesus’ power and strength, His kingship and His might, there was and is only one thing He still cannot conquer, and that, indeed, is our will, that we have to give to Him, for Christ can only reign in a heart that is obedient to Him, Christ can only dwell where He is welcomed as king. This is why in the “Our Father,” we always say “Thy Will be done.”
One of the reasons for this feast is an encyclical by Pope Pius XI, in which he says something similar, he says:
“If to Christ our Lord is given all power in heaven and on earth; if all men, purchased by his precious blood, are by a new right subjected to his dominion; if this power embraces all men, it must be clear that not one of our faculties is exempt from his empire. He must reign in our minds, …our wills, …our hearts, [and]…our bodies…which should serve as instruments for the interior sanctification of our souls. If all these truths are presented to the faithful for their consideration, (he says) they will prove a powerful incentive to perfection.”
And, by doing so, then Christ, the beginning and the end, the first and the last, the Alpha and the Omega, the almighty, can truly rule as king, king of our lives, king of our world, king of our universe, but, indeed, most important of all, the king of our hearts.
Yet, when we turn to our Gospel today, it doesn’t seem to fit our Solemnity, because if we were to picture a king, we might have a picture of a man with an ornate crown upon his head, perhaps wearing a few pieces of expensive jewelry, and dressed in the finest of robes, adorned, most likely, with silver or gold. He would probably be sitting upon a throne, one that enhances his lifestyle, and he would be surrounded by people who honor, respect and even fear him. In looking upon this person, there would be absolutely no doubt in our minds that this man, indeed, was a king.
Our Gospel paints this kingship differently, it paints Jesus as a mocked king. His crown is neither silver nor gold but, instead, made of thorns, He is not adorned with jewelry or fine robes; instead He has scourge marks upon His body, and is wearing nothing more than a loincloth. His throne is neither comfortable nor ornate, because His throne is a wooden cross upon which He rests His head.
His followers have all but abandoned Him, and those who remain, neither honor, respect nor fear Him, but, rather, taunt Him, mock Him, and spit upon Him, if He truly is a king, they say, He can command his angels to remove Him from the cross, if He truly is a king, He would not have been on the cross in the first place. So that the plank of wood placed above Him is not a sign to show honor or respect, but mockery and insult: “This is the King of the Jews.”
People were expecting a Savior, a king like that of David, they were looking for hope and all they seemingly got was someone who allowed Himself to be conquered, who allowed seeming defeat, was humiliated and killed.
Therefore, the great question that we might have, the same question that had to have remained in the hearts and minds of all of those who saw Him, all those who mocked Him, all of those who accused Him, all of those who trusted in Him, all of those who were drawn to Him in some way, is how can this man beaten, bruised, battered and crowned with thorns truly be a king?
The answer is found as He lies upon the throne of His cross, but most especially in how He responds to the thief on the cross next to Him, the only one who truly recognized Him as king. He says: “I promise you this day you will be with me in paradise.” Paradise is a word whose etymology means a royal park, a park that was usually attached to a royal palace.
Jesus, indeed, affirms that He is a king, but it is a kingship that only finds its beginning at the cross, it reaches its culmination, however, when He rises from the dead. Jesus, as we know, was no ordinary man but both God and man, so He rules His kingdom as both God and man.
By suffering, by dying and by rising again, He did conquer as king, because He conquered the greatest enemy, the unconquerable enemy, death itself. This is why it is no accident that His suffering and death are so intimately connected with His kingship, because, as our second reading reminds Jesus is “the firstborn from the dead” and He has made peace through the blood of His cross, because, as the firstborn from the dead, that is, of being the very first person to be able to come back to life from the dead, He has ultimate dominion, as God and man, over every one and everything, those in heaven, on earth, under the earth, those visible and invisible.
Therefore, He has conquered every single one of our enemies, not with a sword but with a bloodstained cross, and, in destroying death, He also did something no one else could do, He, freed us from our sins, because, as St. Paul reminds elsewhere: the wage of sin is death.
This is why, as king, His greatest desire is to rule our hearts so that He could reign as one who can bring us to His kingdom, bring us, as He did the Good thief, before His throne in Heaven.
However, before that can happen, before what we daily pray for in the “Our Father” is realized and His Kingdom, indeed, comes, we need to be prepared, which is what Advent does. What’s more is that despite Jesus’ power and strength, His kingship and His might, there was and is only one thing He still cannot conquer, and that, indeed, is our will, that we have to give to Him, for Christ can only reign in a heart that is obedient to Him, Christ can only dwell where He is welcomed as king. This is why in the “Our Father,” we always say “Thy Will be done.”
One of the reasons for this feast is an encyclical by Pope Pius XI, in which he says something similar, he says:
“If to Christ our Lord is given all power in heaven and on earth; if all men, purchased by his precious blood, are by a new right subjected to his dominion; if this power embraces all men, it must be clear that not one of our faculties is exempt from his empire. He must reign in our minds, …our wills, …our hearts, [and]…our bodies…which should serve as instruments for the interior sanctification of our souls. If all these truths are presented to the faithful for their consideration, (he says) they will prove a powerful incentive to perfection.”
And, by doing so, then Christ, the beginning and the end, the first and the last, the Alpha and the Omega, the almighty, can truly rule as king, king of our lives, king of our world, king of our universe, but, indeed, most important of all, the king of our hearts.
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