Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe (Christ the King)

Dominica D.N. Iesu Christi Regis
24 November 2024 

This weekend the Church observes the 34th or last Sunday in Ordinary Time.  This marks the final Sunday of the Church’s current liturgical year.  It is marked by observing the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the King of the Universe.  Now it may be a challenge for us to think deeply about what it means that the Lord identifies himself as a king whose kingdom is not of earthly origin.  “My kingdom does not belong to this world,” Jesus said.  The challenge for us Americans is that “king” and “kingdom” terminology sounds like old time language and foreign concepts at best.  At worst, it sounds like the stuff of fairy tales and legends.  The history of the founding of our country after all involves throwing off the ties of monarchical rule, and the idea of a king is not natural to us in our democratic republic marked by authority coming from the people and exercised by representative government.  Yet, we need to be clear that the Lord identifies himself as a king, as our king.  This speaks to us about his sovereignty over us.  It tells us that we need to think deeply about the Lord’s mastery over us, over every aspect of our lives.  His kingship tells us about the type of obedience he is owed from us.

The first reading from the Prophet Daniel and the second reading from the Book of Revelation share in common that they report to us a vision of the author.  In the Old Testament the phrase “son of man” is typically used to refer to a human being.  Yet, in the vision of Daniel (the first reading) there is an obviously different meaning, because Daniel sees a heavenly vision, he sees a celestial being who appears like a son of man, he writes.  In other words, this particular son of man is divine.  And we know he is not of merely human origin because he does not come in a human procession of fanfare.  Rather, this one comes on the clouds of heaven, and when he comes before the throne of God, the Ancient One, this Son of man is given dominion, glory, and kingship over everything.  The vision of St. John in the Book of Revelation (the second reading) likewise identifies Jesus as the ruler over all earthly rulers and it notes his divine origin and kingship in that he comes, again that phrase, amid the clouds.  As we must think deeply about how the Lord identifies himself as a king, and even as we know that requires obedience from us, we should rejoice because Jesus is the perfect king.  He loves us and knows what is best for us.  He calls us to an obedience that is not about oppression, but rather he knows we will be truly free of external and internal enslavement if we live in accord with his commands.  He is a king who lowers himself to serve us and to save us by his mercy.

Imagine whatever fanfare comes to mind when you think of a king and a kingdom.  Perhaps the coronation of King Charles not that long ago in English gives us some images.  Trumpet blast.  Banners flying.  Armies in formation.  Servants attending.  Colorful attire and various ranks in the king’s court.  All of that pales in comparison to the way the entire universe is arrayed to celebrate the kingship of Jesus whose majesty and glory has him coming on the clouds.  But as captivating as all that pageantry may be, the kingship of Christ hangs on the response that is required from each of us.  And a response is needed from us.  A personal response.  Our response cannot be a corporate response only, just going along with the crowds.  It is corporate and involves the community of the Church certainly, but it cannot be only corporate.  In the end, our response cannot be made for us by someone else.  In a certain sense, apart from external regal fanfare, standing alone before the king shows us whether our response is adequate.  And thinking deeply about this response to the kingship of Jesus is important because one day it will have eternal consequences as we stand alone before the king who will judge our obedience.  That’s what I mean by saying that all the external fanfare of kingship, whatever we imagine about the kingship of Christ, it all hangs on the personal response demanded of each disciple.

 For that reason, almost apart from any words spoken, it is just the setting itself of the Gospel text that most catches my attention today.  The Gospel selection from St. John is the trial and judgment of Jesus leading to his crucifixion.  That trial and judgment scene takes place at the praetorium where Pilate exercises Roman authority.  But more specifically, this section of St. John’s Gospel has scenes standing on the outside of the praetorium with the raucous crowds and more quiet and personal scenes inside the praetorium, away from public notice.  Our selection today is a scene inside the praetorium where apart from the crowds and the spectacle and the public eye, Pilate is alone with Jesus.  Pilate stands alone with Jesus.  And so must we all – right now, today – as a test of our discipleship.  And so we all will – one day – as the test of our judgment.  Jesus is the universal king with a kingship of higher authority than this world.  When we think of the commitment we should have to daily prayer, time spent with the king who loves us, can we imagine ourselves in that personal, private scene inside the praetorium?  There, Pilate seems to be in control but it is really he who is being interrogated, he who is on trial.  Can you see your life and your response to the kingship of Jesus in that scene?  Pilate’s “Are you the King of the Jews?”  becomes our own interrogation about our response to Jesus by asking ourselves, “Are you the king of me?”.  Or, said in more natural English, “Are you my king, Lord?”  The Lord responds with his own question that highlights our own personal responsibility: “Do you say this on your own?”  When we think of the commitment we should have to Sunday and holy day Masses where we give the Lord the worship he is owed, will we let ourselves hear that examination of conscience, “Are you my king, Lord?”  When we think of the call to holiness in our King’s kingdom, when we think of the battle we must undertake to root out sin, when we think of the need to confess sins frequently, what does our personal practice and response say to that question, “Are you my king, Lord?”  When we think of how our lives as disciples should be oriented to generous service, the giving of our time, and talent and treasure, a generous service to the least of our brothers and sisters, “Are you my king, Lord?”  The Lord’s “Do you say this on your own” serves as an examination for that personal response we must all give to the kingship of Christ.  Imagining the private scene inside the praetorium, may we find encouragement that our proclamation of the kingship of Christ is far more than words on the lips, but more about the way we live as disciples who listen and belong to the voice of truth.

Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

Dominica XXXI per Annum B
3 November 2024

 In the verses before today’s Gospel passage our Lord is in a series of debates with various groups of his time, and the debates are rather contentious.  Pharisees, Herodians, and Sadducees were debating with the Lord and they were seeking to entrap him.  The passage today picks up with a scribe, another group of people in Jesus’ time.  Scribes were biblical scholars of their day.  This scribe notices that Jesus is handling these disputes and answering the questions well.  And so, with a sincerity that the other groups could not muster, this scribe asks the Lord “Which is the first of all the commandments?”  In other words, which is the most important command in the law?

The reason this was a question and was an item of debate in Jesus’ time is due to the vastness of the Torah and its laws for how faithful Jews should live their status as God’s chosen people.  To help us understand the dilemma, consider that later scholars would enumerate some 613 laws.  That’s rather daunting, so finding out what is most important has some merit.  This is what the scribe asks.  It is a very important question.

The Lord’s answer is not surprising.  He quotes the prayer known in Hebrew as the Shema.  That title is taken from the first word of the prayer.  Shema in the Hebrew means “to hear”.  The shema is a prayer that calls Jews to listen and hear that they are to love God with all that they are and all that they have.  For a Jew, knowing the shema would be something equivalent to our knowing the words of the Lord’s Prayer from Scripture, or our knowing the Creed.  It was very familiar, a prayer used daily, and it was no surprise that the Lord highlighted it as his response for the first of all the commandments.  In fact, the words of the shema are found in the Book of Deuteronomy and we heard them in the first reading, “Hear, O Israel!  The Lord is our God, the Lord alone!  Therefore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.”  By naming aspects of human being, like heart, soul, and strength, we should not take that to mean a division of human life carrying with it some erroneous idea that we should love God with only part of ourselves.  Rather, the divisions of human being are actually meant to communicate a totality for they represent the deepest unique aspects of what it means to be a human being, a rational creature with powers of mind, emotion, and physical strength.

But, as the Gospel relates, the Lord did not stop by quoting the shema.  He continued his response and, this part can be said to be more surprising.  Jesus went on to say that after love of God with all that one has, there is a second command that is related to the primacy of that first of all the commands.  And the second is, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  In establishing what you and I today call the Great Command (love of God and love of neighbor), the Lord was offering a synthesis of the many laws taught by the Jews.  The Lord is saying that all of them are oriented toward, and ultimately serve, the twofold command to love God first above all things, and to reflect God’s love for others by the love we have for our neighbor as ourself.

This is a lesson and a command that endures and that guides us today.  In fact, the scribe’s response to Jesus shows us still more.  The scribe notes that to observe this twofold command of love of God and love of neighbor is, he says, “worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.”  This claim caught my attention, because the Jewish ritual system of worship is based upon animal sacrifice.  Surely, a faithful, knowledgeable, and serious Jew – as a scribe would be – was not suggesting that temple sacrifice has no value, or that temple sacrifice should be abolished.  Certainly, not.  Rather, Jesus tells the scribe that his answer is good and that he is not far from the kingdom of God, because the scribe highlights what a Jew should understand about temple sacrifice.  The type of offering described here, is not the type of sacrifice by which the person takes or eats a part of the sacrifice, as in the case of the Passover lamb.  The whole burnt offering was the type of sacrifice by which the entire animal was sacrificed and burnt on the altar.  Jesus is pleased with the scribe’s knowledge because the scribe is bringing to the forefront an important lesson for a Jew, a lesson that remains for us too.  Namely, a whole burnt offering is supposed to symbolize to the Jew that his entire life and all that he has, all his heart, all his soul, and all his strength are the actual sacrifice that should be given to God.  The whole sacrificial animal is a substitute in the sacrificial system; but, the individual person of faith must strive to give all of himself in obedience and submission to God and His commands.  In this, such a faithful person is not making empty sacrifice and is not far from the kingdom of God.  In this, the sacrifice has meaning and is pleasing to God.

This critical lesson remains for us.  It remains for us because the challenge and pitfall in the life of faith is as common among Christians as it would have been among Jews.  That challenge and pitfall is as common now as it was in the Lord’s time.  And that challenge and pitfall is the tendency to follow God superficially, to do religious things on the surface, to be religious only here in the church walls, but to keep God and our relationship with Him rather distant and focused on the external matters that can be seen.  Meanwhile, inside we are not directing all that we are and all that we have to God.  The challenge and pitfall is the tendency to permit God only a limited place in our affairs, while keeping Him conveniently out of the affairs of our life that would require more sacrifice, more effort, more conversion.  We learn that our entire being must be oriented toward God and His ways.  It is not enough to give part of oneself or to give less than all to God.  Our offerings are acceptable and valuable when they reflect what is true about ourselves: that we are submitting ourselves to God and His commands.  All of ourselves.  Every aspect of our lives.  If we do not have that interior disposition, then our religious actions and sacrifices, our participation in our worship, like the Holy Mass, would be lacking and may risk being empty.  In the Holy Mass we follow a typical pattern: we listen to God’s Word in the Scriptures because, like a scalpel, it cuts through some of the deception and the delusions that we may have if our faith is kept superficial.  We move from God’s Word to the Word Made Flesh present on our altars and offered in sacrifice for us, because in that total gift of himself, the Lord models how our sacrifice must be.  What sense would it make, in other words, to participate in this sacrifice if I reject that call to give all of myself to God and to love others as I love myself?  What sense would it make to come to receive, to take Holy Communion, the Lord’s total gift of himself, and to say “amen,” to say, I believe but then not give all of myself to the Lord in return.  We are weak and sinful in this regard, in our resolve to avoid being superficial.  And so, thanks be to God, we can repent and be healed in confession.  Charity and service to others stretches us in our tendency to be superficial.  Ultimately, like that Jewish prayer the shema, we are to hear and to listen to the truth that God loves us completely and we are most fully alive and complete when we likewise love Him in return.  May we strive then to do away with being superficial in our religious life and practice so that we may be consoled by those hopeful words of Jesus: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”