Today’s readings speak of “an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed” (Dn 7:14), “the Alpha and the Omega, …the one who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty.” (Rv 1:8), but we also hear a skeptical question directed to an accused criminal, “Are you the king of the Jews?” (Jn 18:33).
“Christ: Alpha and Omega” is the title of the closing paragraph of Part I of the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, which provides a beautiful summary of what we celebrate today:
“The Lord is the goal of human history, the focal point of the desires of history and civilization, the center of mankind, the joy of all hearts and the fulfilment of all aspirations. It is he whom the Father raised from the dead, exalted and placed at his right hand, constituting him judge of the living and the dead. Animated and drawn together in his Spirit we press onwards on our journey towards the consummation of history which fully corresponds to the plan of his love: ‘to unite all things in him, things in Heaven and things on earth.’” (Gaudium et Spes, 45)
Such words fill our hearts with hope and joy. Yet we may also find ourselves asking a question not unlike Pilate’s: are you really the king? Where is the evidence?
Today I would like to speak about three kinds of evidence. The first is the evidence of truth. The book of Revelation calls Jesus the “faithful witness,” and in John he says of himself, ‘I came into the world, to testify to the truth” (Jn 18:37). Christ’s witness to the power of God’s kingship is in many ways counter intuitive. His is not an earthy power, but that which is not of this world and yet changes the world. Pope Benedict comments:
“But in what does this “power” of Jesus Christ the King consist? It is not the power of the kings or the great people of this world; it is the divine power to give eternal life, to liberate from evil, to defeat the dominion of death. It is the power of Love that can draw good from evil, that can melt a hardened heart, bring peace amid the harshest conflict and kindle hope in the thickest darkness. This Kingdom of Grace is never imposed and always respects our freedom. Christ came “to bear witness to the truth” (Jn 18: 37), as he declared to Pilate: whoever accepts his witness serves beneath his “banner”, according to the image dear to St Ignatius of Loyola. Every conscience, therefore, must make a choice. Who do I want to follow? God or the Evil One? The truth or falsehood? Choosing Christ does not guarantee success according to the world’s criteria but assures the peace and joy that he alone can give us. This is demonstrated, in every epoch, by the experience of numerous men and women who, in Christ’s name, in the name of truth and justice, were able to oppose the enticements of earthly powers with their different masks, to the point that they sealed their fidelity with martyrdom.”
(Benedict XVI, Angelus Address 22 Nov 2009)
Ever since I entered the monastery, the feast of Christ the King has been interpreted for me by Blessed Miguel Augustin Pro, a Mexican Jesuit priest and martyr, whom we remember on November 23rd. Under severe persecution by the government of Mexico, Miguel Pro exercised a clandestine priestly ministry, often using disguises to avoid detection by police. In 1927, he was arrested together with his brothers on the false charge of attempting to assassinate the president and executed without trial. An interesting fact is that the government tried to use photographs of his execution as propaganda to discredit him and frighten others. However, this backfired dramatically, as photographs of the priest kneeling in prayer, standing in cruciform stance as he spoke his last words, and finally being given a coup de grace by a single soldier, became banners of the Cristeros movement in opposition to government repression of the faith. Accounts of his final moments describe how he blessed the soldiers who were part of the firing squad, made a confession of faith, innocence and forgiveness, and finally spoke words that would become iconic: Viva Cristo Rey. Long live Christ the King. His choice of words was telling. Just two years earlier, Pope Pius XI had established the feast of Christ the King in the context of conflict between nations and the rise of dictatorships as an expression of confidence and hope in the power of Christ’s reign of peace and love. Bl Miguel’s final words were spoken firmly and clearly, but not defiantly, quietly and without shouting: Viva Cristo Rey. Long live Christ the King. Evidence for the kingdom does not have to shout. It speaks quietly.
The second king of evidence is goodness. In the second reading, the book of Revelation states that we too share in Christ’s kingship. In the acclamation addressed “to him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood”, he declares that Christ “has made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father” (Rv 1:5-6). Pope Benedict comments:
“Here too it is clear that we are speaking of a kingdom based on a relationship with God, with truth, and not a political kingdom. By his sacrifice, Jesus has opened for us the path to a profound relationship with God: in him we have become true adopted children and thus sharers in his kingship over the world. To be disciples of Jesus, then, means not letting ourselves be allured by the worldly logic of power, but bringing into the world the light of truth and God’s love….
We invoke the kingdom daily in the prayer of the “Our Father” with the words “Thy kingdom come”; in effect we say to Jesus: Lord, make us yours, live in us, gather together a scattered and suffering humanity, so that in you all may be subjected to the Father of mercy and love.” (Benedict XVI, Homily 25 Nov 2012)
I love singing the introduction to the Our Father on Sundays and Solemnities, particularly the one we use during Week 1. I hear it in my mind in Mother Agnes’ voice, as she would sing it: With longing for the coming of God’s kingdom, let us offer our prayer to the Father. We long for the kingdom. Believing that Jesus Christ is king of the universe, we walk through life looking for evidence that we are participating in this kingdom. Nothing is too small to be sanctified. Have you ever caught yourself in the act of doing something good for another without thinking about it – the right hand not knowing what the left is doing? Sometimes those acts of mercy love are so small and hidden as to go unnoticed, even by ourselves. Maybe you made room in your heart and on the table for someone’s less efficient way of doing things. Or maybe it was a compliment that fell off your lips into the lap of someone who was not less surprised than you were. Perhaps it is more that you would have noticed if you hadn’t done it. You would have said to yourself, ah, an opportunity missed. There are some acts of love that cost us a lot, that we have to work at and steel ourselves for. It feels like a big sacrifice to endure this annoying situation with equanimity, approach that difficult person with courtesy, to give extra time and energy when you’re worn out. But on certain days we can be surprised by our own acts of love, by Christ’s power of love working in us. St Benedict says in the Rule that we should always attribute our good acts to God and not to ourselves. This can sound as if we’re to be always smacking ourselves down. But in moments such as I’ve just described, we know without shadow of a doubt that it is the power of Christ working in us. We pray for the coming of the kingdom thrice daily, and here is the evidence, dropped into our lap without fanfare, that our prayer is being heard.
A third kind of evidence is beauty. If Jesus Christ is king of the universe the universe breathes and sings and shines him, if our eyes and ears are open. Mary Oliver’s poem, “Evidence” speaks eloquently of this:
“Beauty without purpose is beauty without virtue. But
all beautiful things, inherently, have this function –
to excite the viewers toward sublime thought. Glory
to the world, that good teacher.”
(Mary Oliver, “Evidence”)
We have often heard that we should counting our blessings, write down the things we are grateful for. This is not just a pious practice or a helpful mental health tool. It is a powerful way of recognizing the treasures found in today’s field, the evidence of Christ’s kingship. Beauty in nature and in people is a sign of the kingdom:
Two sisters making apple pies so big they look as if there’s a monster inside, fighting to get out.
A red sun slipping behind the hills casting horizontal light on a truckload of leaves and a wheelbarrow full of sticks.
Each one of use could add our own examples.
Evidence.
What if every time a little piece of evidence of the kingdom falls into our lap – evidence from the courageous witness to truth, evidence from goodness made visible in ourselves or others, evidence from beauty shining out of the created universe – we were to say, firmly and clearly, but not defiantly, quietly and without shouting: Viva Cristo Rey. Long live Christ the King.