Christ the King
There was an inscription over his head: ‘This Is The King Of The Jews’. One of the criminals hanging in crucifixion blasphemed him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Then save yourself and us.”…The other criminal said: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Luke 23: 35-43
The liturgical feast which we celebrate on the last Sunday of the Church’s year we call the Solemnity of Christ the King. It’s a relatively late addition to the liturgical calendar, having been introduced by Pope Pius XI in 1925. In light of the political unrest that he saw developing in the Europe of his day, the Pope added this celebration to the calendar as a way of challenging Christians, particularly Catholics, to pause and reflect on to what and to whom they gave their allegiance. Was it to Jesus Christ and his Gospel or was it to those would-be potentates who were flexing their political muscles and grabbing the headlines of the news outlets across the globe? In retrospect, Pius XI proved to be an astute and accurate reader of the signs of the times in which he lived. Close to home, Mussolini has been a blustering leader of Italy for three years. A young Hitler, only twelve months out of prison, had already made a name for himself as a firebrand, and his growing Nazi Party was rapidly attracting adherents. The world at large was in the grip of the Great Economic Depression, with millions of people out of work and eager for change for the better. Pius XI boldly asserted that, despite the promises of political leaders vying for power, control and status, Jesus Christ was the real centre of the universe, the only one capable of leading humanity to true freedom, the only leader worthy of being given our allegiance.
We often hear it said that history repeats itself. I suggest that Mark Twain was closer to the truth when he said: “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes!” We don’t have to search very deeply for evidence of historical rhyming patterns repeating themselves. Vladimir Putin’s attempted annexation of the Ukraine echoes Hitler’s invasion of Poland in 1939. We need only recall Bashar al-Assad’s brutal suppression of demonstrations in favour of democracy in Syria in 2011, and the more recent seizure of power and suppression of democracy in Myanmar by a self-appointed military junta. Add to those events civil strife in Yemen and other African and Middle Eastern countries. So, the celebration of Christ the King is as relevant for our lives as it was for our world and our Church back in 1925.
Today’s gospel reading from Luke resonates with all this in that one of its themes is the manner in which Jesus was made a victim of abusive physical, political and religious power. The Galilee of Jesus’ time was firmly under the thumb of the Roman Empire. In addition to that, Herod, basking in the title of King, had a strong hold over Jerusalem. In the background were the Jewish religious leaders who had long been plotting as to how to rid themselves of Jesus whose increasing popularity they saw as a threat to their religious authority. In his repeated efforts to point out how the spirit of law was far more freeing than adherence to its letter, Jesus was warning those who cared to listen to him not to be seduced into idolising power. This was a veiled criticism of those who wielded political physical and religious power.
Of course, there were also those in the general populace who longed for a Messiah who would overthrow Roman rule and right the wrongs that had been visited on their people. Even Jesus’ disciples imagined a Messiah who would resort to force to free the people of Israel. Tragically, Judas was one could not set aside his disappointment that the Jesus who looked more and more like the long-awaited Messiah was not going to resort to might, power and violence to prove that he was God’s anointed.
In the debacle that was Jesus’ trial and the brutality that followed it, the three groups intent on exercising their power ended up conspiring to abuse and humiliate the man of peace who, ironically, was executed under the banner of “King of the Jews”. The taunting and mocking that Luke tells us was directed at Jesus illustrated the kind of power that those doing the mocking believed befitted kings and rulers: “Are you really a king? If you are, then do something to demonstrate your power and release yourself!” While we regard as abhorrent the ridicule and torture meted out to Jesus, the details of the manner in which he was abused force us to stop and ponder how we think about power and how we use the power we have. Those of us who live in democracies have the right and power to cast a vote in national and/or state elections. What attitude to power and its use is implied in the way we vote? We belong to a Church that has its own kind of politics. For centuries Church structures have, in some ways, mirrored civil structures. There have been times when Church leaders have told us how we “should” vote on particular issues. There have been times when our Church has adopted patriarchal and hierarchical structures. Working our way through these can be complicated and confusing. There are no easy answers to issues like these, but that does not mean that we avoid discussing them, exploring them. Remaining silent is not a responsible option.
I believe that Luke’s intention in this part of his Gospel was to demonstrate to his readers that Jesus was really worthy of the title “Christ the King.” Moreover, he used Jesus’ own actions to define the real meaning of kingship. To begin with, Jesus demonstrated his moral stature by pardoning the very people who had crucified him and then by offering a place in his kingdom to the thief who had come to recognise his (Jesus’) innocence. Moreover, he asserted that he would ultimately triumph and be vindicated by stating that he was going to his death bolstered by his unshakeable faith in God’s power to give life. His utterances from the Cross redefined what sovereignty and kingship would look like in God’s world rather than in a world where power, politics and status are king.
In today’s second reading from Colossians, we hear Paul’s proclamation that Jesus “is the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1: 15). The gospel reading shows how Jesus, in his dying, personified the mercy, forgiveness and love of God. The degradation of his dying demonstrated his readiness to identify with our humanity at its lowest and neediest, and his encouragement to the “good thief”: “Today we’re going together to paradise” is the ultimate expression of God’s reconciling and merciful love.
Whenever we dare to pray “thy kingdom come” we are acknowledging our willingness to reflect something of the mercy, compassion and love of God that Jesus so eloquently expressed on the Cross. We are proclaiming that true freedom is to be found in a readiness to forgive instead of being controlled by a desire to get even. We are declaring our readiness to give our allegiance to the One whose living and dying demonstrated God’s solidarity with us all.