As a sequel to Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll wrote Through the Looking Glass. One verse of its unusual poetry comes to mind as I reflect on today’s feast.
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes –and ships—and sealing wax—
Of cabbages – and kings—
And why the sea is boiling hot –
And whether pigs have wings.” Does this feast mean anything to you at all? Shall we talk today of shoes and ships and sealing wax instead? Or are you more concerned that the sea someday might be boiling hot or that science could possibly create pigs with wings?
Pope Pius XI instituted this feast in 1925 when Europe was in political upheaval. Disillusionment and economic unrest was sweeping the continent, leading to the rise of fascism in Italy, Nazism in Germany, and communism in Russia. The pope was asserting that despite these political movements along with the rise of secularism and atheism, Christ is king of the universe. Yet, he is unlike any other king in history.
The notion of Christ as a king is somewhat foreign to us. We overthrew an unjust monarchy in our quest for freedom, opting for democracy instead of crowning George Washington as a king. Our nation has, however, struggled at times with leaders who have proven to be self-serving rather than serving. As history has shown, powers of this world do not last no matter how great they seem to be in their time. Mussolini, Hitler, and Stalin are long gone, yet greed, egotism, and hunger for ultimate power are ever with us.
The crowd in today’s gospel possessed a warped notion of kingship if they expected Jesus, whom the sign proclaimed to be the king of the Jews, to come down from the cross. They sneered, “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the Christ.” Only a spineless, shameless king would exploit the privilege of his authority to indulge in a self-seeking end. But Jesus did not live his life for himself. He lives for us.
The distaste that some Christians have for the notion of kingship mistakes the very nature of Christ’s dominion. His is a total reversal of the roles usually assigned to royalty and servitude. He reigns not from a throne but from the gibbet of the cross. Nowhere in the gospels did Jesus claim the title of king for himself, not even when Pilate questioned him. His reign undermines our notion of kingship. He refuses to be master of the world, the mighty monarch. Instead, he is the king who serves those who desire to be served. The signs of his kingdom are forgiveness, reconciliation, love and mercy.
Every time we say the Lord’s Prayer, we pray, “thy kingdom come,” yet what are we asking for or anticipating? I envision a world that marks the end of jealousy, hate, bigotry, famine, prejudice, terrorism, and war. Ultimately, the coming of the kingdom means the end of every kind of injustice, suffering, greed, egotism and sinfulness. Is such a kingdom possible when our society has created what St. John Paul called a “culture of death?” As St. Paul points out, God “delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” So, I dare say yes. It will take millions of unselfish choices to create a culture of life, beginning with you and me.
For those of us who have lost sight of the truth that heaven is our final destination, the feast of Christ the King invites us to live our lives as Jesus taught us, humbly admitting that we have sinned. Consider the two criminals dying along side Jesus. The one scorned him, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.” The other one rebuked him, saying, “Have you no fear of God? We have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.” He then turned to Jesus and pleaded, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus replied, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Most of us are not criminals yet we tend to hide our faults and wrongdoings. Anyone who has avoided the sacrament of reconciliation yet expects to be saved is as disdainful of Christ the King as were the rulers in the crowd who refused to believe that they too could be saved.
The nameless criminal, often called the good thief, shows us how we are to accept the salvation Christ the King offers us.
He confessed to his transgressions, acknowledging that he deserved to die for them and then he sought forgiveness and mercy, which Jesus readily extended. The good thief admitted to his wrongdoing, embracing the moment filled with shame, pain and contrition. Have we followed his example?
How fitting that on the last Sunday of the Year of Mercy, the gospel ends on such a note. Despite his pain and suffering, from his throne on the cross, Jesus showed mercy to the repentant criminal. He was being merciful like the Father and he calls on us to do the same. When we endeavor to follow his example, working for the common good instead of our own selfish wants, we come that much closer to building the kingdom of God in our lifetime.