Regal

A homily for The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, November 26, 2023

Ez 34:11-12, 15-17, 1 Cor 15:20-26, 28, Mt 25:31-46

We have a lot of kings here in America, and unlike anywhere else in the world, in America, our kings are people, places and things.

We crowned LeBron James as King James. We have sports teams called the Kings and the Royals. We have Pizza Kings and Burger Kings and Carpet Kings. Some people drive from Kingston to shop at the King of Prussia malls. Then they munch on a king-size candy bar before sleeping in their king-size bed. California king, at that.

Here in America, kings aren’t all that high and mighty; actually, we’ve declared them fairly run-of-the-mill.

Almost 250 years ago, early Americans declared independence from England, and especially from the tyrant King George. In establishing the United States, the Founders decided they’d had enough of kings, opting instead for elected leaders.

Which forever painted kings and queens and emperors as, at best, petty, selfish, arbitrary and capricious.

“I am the state!” “Off with his head!”

Which for many of us — and let’s be honest here — has dimmed the glory of today’s magnificent feast. Human history is full of bad monarchs, giving us a clouded lens to view Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. Our mind-bogglingly huge universe.

So let’s be clear and reverent:

The Christ is nothing like those men and women who claimed some divine right to oppress people and steal from them. Jesus is the model every leader should have emulated, and whom every leader today and in the future is obligated to follow.

Jesus came to serve and not be served. What a radical posture for a king to take. A king literally kneeling and bowing before his subjects as he washes their filthy, filthy feet.

He condensed the Ten Commandments that Moses carried down from Mount Sinai, as well as centuries of pronouncements from God’s holy prophets, into the simple, but fully achievable, Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.

Every one of us can carry that on a card in our jacket pockets and put it on a bumper sticker.

Speaking of bumper stickers, we need more Matthew 25:40 stickers these days. 

The king will say to them in reply, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

And maybe we should sing “Whatsoever You Do” a bit more often.

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people
That you do unto me.

What a great hymn.

While he walked on this Earth, Jesus was a man of action as much as he was a proclaimer of the Good News. He cured and comforted the sick and disabled, transforming their lives. He forgave and comforted sinners in all walks of life, transforming their lives. He uplifted and comforted the poor and the lowly and everyone on the margins of society, transforming their lives.

Now he does sit on a throne, at the right hand of The Father. But his mission, as priest, prophet and king, is far from over. The work is far from done, as individuals near us who need food, and whole populations worldwide who need peace, will attest.

When each of us was baptized, we were challenged to live our lives as priests, prophets and kings in the same way Jesus did on Earth, and as he does through us whenever we are wise enough and brave enough to accept his challenge.

From our youngest days, we have been challenged:

To use our unique God-given talents to make this world better.

To speak truth to power whenever we see injustice, discrimination or hatred. To repair and transform any institution that oppresses anyone, or tear it down and replace it altogether if that man-made institution is beyond fixing. 

To recognize the suffering Christ in our sisters and brothers, especially those whom Jesus singles out as the least among us. To act with charity to fulfill their needs, and with justice to restore their dignity and hope.

To serve without any desire to be served, as Jesus did — and still does — truly regally.