Sunday, November 22, 2020

Fit for a King - Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Year A

 

 The sanctuary of Christ the King Church in Gothenburg Sweden is surrounded by beautiful mosaic murals. To the left and right of the altar we find images of the Swedish Saint Sigfried and the Blessed Mother fittingly kneeling in humble adoration before the image at the center of the sanctuary behind the altar—Jesus Christ. Seated at the center of a royal blue background, Jesus is depicted as strong, sinewy, and very serious. Golden robes drape his bronzed body, and the five-pointed diadem that crowns his head emits crimson tongues of fire. One hand points to the heavens, the other illuminates the earth with the rays of Divine Mercy. Surrounded by multiple rings of halos and stars, there’s no doubt that this mosaic is fit for a King. Our readings today challenge us to ask ourselves whether we are.

With Advent beginning next week, believe it or not, today marks the last Sunday of the liturgical year, “celebrated under the leave-nothing-understated-title of The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.”[1] Being the end of the Christian year, it’s fitting that our readings turn our attention to the end of time, when Christ will render final judgment on all, and will hand his Kingdom over to the Father, so that God may be all in all. “The first reading and the Gospel declare the certainty of a final judgment, where people will hear their eternal destiny. The second reading assures the baptized that Christ is alive and reigning and that the divine plan for humans to enjoy God’s life forever is moving toward its fulfillment.”[2] Our readings are perfectly clear that Christ will judge, the sheep will be separated from the goats, the good will enter eternal life, and the evil eternal punishment.

          Not so clear, however, is the image of Jesus presented in our readings. On the one hand, our first reading from Ezekiel, our Psalm, and our Gospel identify the Christ as a shepherd who watches over, protects, and saves his flock. Yet, while our beloved Psalm 23 speaks of a gentle, generous shepherd, Ezekiel and Matthew compliment this image with that of a shepherd who means business, who judges, saves the righteous, and destroys the evil ones. On the other hand, our Gospel and second reading also present Christ as a King whose judgment is “taking place in a royal heavenly court, complete with angels and a glorious throne,”[3] and as a triumphant ruler who puts all his enemies under his feet. While seemingly contradictory, the shepherd/king images are well known to us. Throughout history, Christian artists have created a wide variety of images of Christ as King. “There is Michelangelo’s super muscular, Apollo-like Jesus who raises the blessed and dismisses the damned. Orthodox icons generally depict a Savior more serious than welcoming, and many popular depictions present Jesus crowned and resplendent in royal/priestly robes,”[4] like the mosaic in Christ the King Church. We’re also very comfortable with the shepherd image of the Messiah. In fact, one of the oldest images of Jesus, found on the walls of the catacombs in Rome, depicts him as the Good Shepherd carrying the lost sheep on his shoulders.

How do we reconcile these images? Well, think of the royal image as representing Jesus’ sovereignty over all of creation, his king-like authority to rule and to judge. At the same time, think of the shepherd image as representing how Jesus exercises his sovereignty—with a shepherd’s fervent care. Together these images give us the calm assurance that Christ reigns over all with the loving compassion that a good shepherd extends to his sheep. We need to ask ourselves, then, are we his sheep, or are we the goats?

While these messianic images may be a little confusing, Jesus leaves no ambiguity surrounding the standard by which we’ll be judged. “This is one of the most vivid parables Jesus ever spoke, and the lesson is crystal clear — that God will judge us in accordance with our reaction to human need. His judgment [doesn’t] depend on the knowledge [we’ve] amassed, the fame [we’ve] acquired, or the fortune [we’ve] gained, but on the help that [we’ve] given.”[5] Jesus identifies himself with the poor and suffering so much that he considers the mercy we extend to them as mercy extended to him, and our failure to show mercy to them, as a failure to show mercy to him. Jesus identifies “with every person who suffers and is in need of compassion.”[6] That’s good news for us all. Why? Because in some way, every one of us suffers and needs compassion. We may want to play the tough guy, put on our poker face, or keep a stiff upper lip, but we all hurt in our own ways. Rest assured, though, through his passion, death, resurrection, and steadfast presence among us in the Eucharist, Jesus proves that he’s on our side, shepherding us beyond our wants, beyond our needs, from death into life. Yes, we will be judged, but the standard by which we’ll be judged is no greater than whether we treat our fellow human beings with the merciful compassion that we ourselves want and need.   

There’s no shortage of opportunity to be found fit in Jesus’ final judgment—to be counted among the sheep— by showing mercy to those with whom Jesus identifies most closely. Just look around. Ask people how they’re doing, and really listen to how they respond. Drop off some baked ziti. Knit hats for cancer patients. Call a parishioner who can’t come to Church yet. Babysit a frazzled parent’s children. Join our prison ministry. Assure everyone you meet of your heartfelt prayers for them. The opportunities to serve the people Jesus claims as his own are endless. If we take advantage of those opportunities, we have nothing to fear at Jesus’ final judgment.

            Last week, the Church of Christ the King in Sweden was desecrated. The mosaics were spared, but the altar was overturned, candles and furniture were damaged, and hymnals were strewn all over the floor. While these violent acts shock and hurt us, the fact remains that Jesus Christ still reigns as King of the Universe. No president nor prince, no televangelist nor tyrant, no deacon nor dictator has taken his place. Only Jesus merits our humble adoration and unfailing devotion. It’s not our place, then, to judge or condemn the person or people who committed these heinous acts. That’s Jesus’ job. It’s our job to extend our merciful compassion to them, praying that they find relief from whatever pain led them to do this. It may not be easy, but that’s the standard against which we’ll be judged, and that’s exactly the type of servant that’s fit for a King. Are we?

 Readings: Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17; Psalm 23; 1 Corinthians 15:20-26, 28; Matthew 25:31-46



[1] Mary M. McGlone, “The King of Solidarity,” National Catholic Reporter 57, no. 3 (Nov. 13-26, 2020), 19.

[2] Elizabeth M. Nagel, Elaine Park, and Mary Pat Haley, Workbook for Lectors, Gospel Readers, and Proclaimers of the Word (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 2020), 287.

[3] John Shea, The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers: On Earth as It Is in Heaven, Matthew, Year A (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2004), 325.

[4] McGlone, 19.

[5] William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, vol. 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 379-380.

[6] Curtis Mitch and Edward Sri, The Gospel of Matthew (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010), 326.

 

1 comment:

  1. Amen Mike. It is certainly difficult at times. I find it very challenging to have mercy and be kind to those who "should know better". Especially those that are supposedly on "our side". Double especially when those people are close to us.

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