CHRIST KING
Cycle “C: Luke 23, 35 – 43
Introduction: Our proclamation of the
kingship of Jesus is the articulate witness to what is going on within and in
our Christian community, and is our faithful submission to the reign of Christ.
The Kingdom of God, brought to us by Jesus, is the highest value a human being
can realise.
Our Eucharistic
celebration today is a thanksgiving for the gift of the Kingdom, the royal
priesthood of the baptised. We pray our Heavenly Father to bless us with his
mercy that makes us worthy to belong.
The Homily:
Our
reading from Luke 23 might seem an odd choice for today’s celebration of Christ
our King. How could a description of Jesus’ execution as a common criminal be a
suitable example of his kingship? Yet, paradoxically, it was on the
cross that Jesus’ kingship was most clearly revealed. Kingship is a symbol of
care and protection, springing from the love of a king for his people. His only
thought is the well-being of his people to whom he belongs, constantly
thoughtful of them, seeing to their needs, and heeding their petitions. Here we
are not talking about a royal family, glamorous and gossiped about, moving
graciously through official functions and state occasions. We are treating of a
servant king who died naked on the cross. He was prepared to be stripped of his
dignity, and let his life drain away from him. The inscription on the cross
over his head was meant to make him look ridiculous; it was meant to lampoon
his claim to being King of the Jews. But in fact it was entirely accurate; it
was on the cross that Jesus was truly King of the Jews. The two criminals
crucified on either side of him reacted quite differently to Jesus’
crucifixion.
Amazingly, one of them asked Jesus to remember
him when he came into his kingly power. Even as he watched him die a shameful
death on a cross, he still had the faith to believe in his kingship. His faith
is an example for us all.
Such a
kingship invites us to question our priorities and ourselves. If we follow him,
we will want to live his values. To repeat the lines of that hymn of Isaac
Watts, “the sight of the Prince of Glory leads us to pour contempt on all our
pride, to repent of our boasting, to sacrifice all the vain things that charm
us most.” Under his leadership we can experience the power that overcomes
sinful drives, and live with a new joy and peace. This is the kingship of the
heart.
To a
world that clamours for peace through domination and suppression, discipline
from the barrel of a gun or silence by gagging the mouths of the protesters,
Our Lord Jesus shows the way by humility and service. Human suffering, for
instance, is not an occasion for pessimism but a challenge to action in the
belief that the Resurrection is already operating in the dark night of pain and
hopelessness. As missionaries and, indeed, as Christians, we realise that we
cannot successfully proclaim the Good News from a position of superiority. We
can preach the Gospel effectively only when the people to whom we are sent have
the power to crucify us. Yes, and there’ll always be people who will ridicule
our faith; well, consider the abuse and ridicule of the passers-by and
onlookers on the first Good Friday.
But
precisely in his moment of greatest weakness Christ King shows his greatest strength.
The Letter to the Colossians, though brief, has a wonderful cosmic sweep. In
this short, rich letter Christ is shown defeating darkness, holding all things
in unity and making it possible for us “to join the saints and with them to
inherit the light.” This same Christ crucified is able to overcome all
divisions and rescue humankind.
This king
had cabinet ministers made up of people from the financial world (Mathew),
tradesmen (Peter), immigrants (Luke), and even a member of a terrorist gang
(Simon, listed as “the Zealot). Jesus introduced gender balance even before the
term was invented. His style was walkabout, making time to be with people who
were powerless, voiceless and choice-less. He challenged the religious and
spiritual powers. His Manifesto included health care for body, mind and spirit.
He would use his Nazareth Manifesto as a checklist - good news to
the poor, sight the blind, wings to jailbirds, debt cancellation programme to
introduce the day of Jubilee. The credit card companies would be after his
blood.
His
communication skills would be second to none. He was master of the sound-bite,
with more bite than sound. Jesus would ask the awkward questions. Those of us
who are part of the religious establishment - ministers
and elders - would have a rough time playing power games
in the name of God. Jesus’ overall aim would be to create a community that
would be shaped by God’s way of doing things.
But his
popularity would be short-lived. His term of office didn’t go beyond three
years: cut short in his prime by a violent death that was manoeuvred by priests
and politicians. He died in public disgrace at the hands of the media smear
machine. People wanted to make him king. He refused. He was already writing a
new script for the notions of king, kingdom and authority. He would not fit the
popular mould. He was moulding another way. He would carry a Cross before
wearing a Crown.
The
American Indians labelled Jesus as “The Little Buffalo Calf of God” because he
nourished and sustained their bodies and spirit. An African tribe describes him
as “the serpent that moves through the forest without fear.” In the Andes in
South America, the people like to picture him as a weeping child removing a
thorn from the sole of his foot. His tears help them better to understand how
he shares their human condition. The thorn in the foot reminds them of his
passion and suffering for their salvation. This is the Christ whom they feel
very comfortable with. He is one of their own, and belongs.
Hopefully,
he will become one of our own too.
PRAYER (Dunstan, Archbishop of
Canterbury. c. 908 – 988)
O Lord, O gentle Son of Mary free;
O King of Kings, blessed Redeemer,
upon those who have been ransomed
from the power of death,
by your own blood, ever have mercy.
O noblest unbegotten, yet begotten
Son, having no beginning,
yet without effort (in the weakness
of God) excelling all things,
upon this your people in your pity,
Lord have mercy.
O Son of righteousness, in all
unclouded glory,
supreme dispenser of justice,
in that great day when you strictly
judge all nations,
we earnestly beseech you, upon this
your people, who here stand before your presence, in your pity, Lord, then have
mercy on us.
King Jesus, Always at Our Side
Solemnity of Christ the King. Mass Readings: 2 Samuel 5:1-3; Psalms 122:1-5; Colossians 1:12-20, Luke 23:35-43
We can find the kingship of Christ everywhere in our faith.
But, first, it is important to note that, even in his own day, “kingship” was not an obvious metaphor for Christ to make. Galilee had its own king, Herod Antipas, a corrupt man whose authority was almost entirely overridden by the Romans. Even for Jesus, “king” references were more from history than from real life.
“Jesus’ invitation to enter his kingdom comes in the form of parables,” says the Catechism (546). Christ uses parables to show just how radical a change he is making. In this case, he is changing the kingdom from a symbol of glory and luxury to a symbol of humility and simplicity. He tells Mary that she will “throw down the mighty from their thrones,” and he himself becomes the first example of that, offering his kingdom to the poor and lowly, demanding that we “humble ourselves and become little” — become like children — to enter God’s kingdom.
This alternate vision of kingship fills our faith.
It is there in the Our Father, when we pray, “Thy kingdom come!” It’s there in the crucifix, with the sign saying, “Jesus, King of the Jews.” It is there in the Rosary, in the “threes” — the third mysteries in each of the first three decades: The Nativity of the Newborn King; the Proclamation of the Kingdom; and — marking the only earthly coronation Jesus ever submitted to — the Crowning With Thorns.
His kingship accompanies us all year, actually. It starts at Epiphany, when the Three Kings lay their gifts down before the Christ Child, who then has to flee a king’s wrath. It continues as Lent begins, with the three temptations in the desert and Satan offering Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world.” Lent ends with Holy Week, when Pilate discusses Christ’s kingship with Jesus before sending him to his death, where the Good Thief says, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
The Easter season ends with Christ declaring himself King of the Universe, at the Ascension, saying, “All authority on heaven and earth are given to me.” Then follows, in the liturgical calendar, the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart, which again focuses on Christ’s kingship. The summer ends with the Marian feasts of the Assumption and Coronation, where the King crowns his Queen.
No wonder the Church year ends at the throne of Jesus Christ, with his glorious crown and scepter of power.
Lord, as the new liturgical year begins, help us face whatever comes, knowing that it is all part of the royal road to your heavenly throne.
“Jesus’ invitation to enter his kingdom comes in the form of parables,” says the Catechism (546). Christ uses parables to show just how radical a change he is making. In this case, he is changing the kingdom from a symbol of glory and luxury to a symbol of humility and simplicity. He tells Mary that she will “throw down the mighty from their thrones,” and he himself becomes the first example of that, offering his kingdom to the poor and lowly, demanding that we “humble ourselves and become little” — become like children — to enter God’s kingdom.
This alternate vision of kingship fills our faith.
It is there in the Our Father, when we pray, “Thy kingdom come!” It’s there in the crucifix, with the sign saying, “Jesus, King of the Jews.” It is there in the Rosary, in the “threes” — the third mysteries in each of the first three decades: The Nativity of the Newborn King; the Proclamation of the Kingdom; and — marking the only earthly coronation Jesus ever submitted to — the Crowning With Thorns.
His kingship accompanies us all year, actually. It starts at Epiphany, when the Three Kings lay their gifts down before the Christ Child, who then has to flee a king’s wrath. It continues as Lent begins, with the three temptations in the desert and Satan offering Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world.” Lent ends with Holy Week, when Pilate discusses Christ’s kingship with Jesus before sending him to his death, where the Good Thief says, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
The Easter season ends with Christ declaring himself King of the Universe, at the Ascension, saying, “All authority on heaven and earth are given to me.” Then follows, in the liturgical calendar, the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart, which again focuses on Christ’s kingship. The summer ends with the Marian feasts of the Assumption and Coronation, where the King crowns his Queen.
No wonder the Church year ends at the throne of Jesus Christ, with his glorious crown and scepter of power.
Lord, as the new liturgical year begins, help us face whatever comes, knowing that it is all part of the royal road to your heavenly throne.
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