Christ and the Kingdom
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Here we are at the Feast of Christ the King, officially called the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. Wow, now that’s a title. Every time this feast comes around in the church year, I have the same reaction: resistance. Maybe it’s because it’s so patriarchal or because here in the United States we resist the idea of a monarchy. Maybe it’s because I just don’t see Christ as high and mighty and kingly. But then, every year, because I have a short memory, I read the readings and change my mind. Although different with each liturgical cycle, the readings for this feast all do the same thing: turn the idea of kingship on its head.
Ironically, what this feast shows me is that Jesus is not royalty. He’s not privileged. Yes, he’s divine, but no, he’s not high and mighty. In the Gospel, the exchange between Jesus and Pilate draws a sharp contrast between the two. I picture Pilate in his Roman uniform, interrogating the suspect, in control of the conversation and the outcome. Jesus, unlike Pilate who has the power, is the detainee facing a death sentence. I picture him in simple garb, hands bound, answering Pilate’s questions with calm rationality. Pilate has all the privilege and status that come with royalty. Jesus does not. People are under Pilate’s command, but Jesus’s people have handed him over to death, as Pilate points out. Maybe Jesus could use his divinity to take some power back in the situation, but he doesn’t. He stays in this vulnerable space, not saving or removing himself. Instead, he focuses on his kingdom – the vision he’s spent his life bringing to fulfilment. His realm is not of this world, and yet, his followers are already living into it.
It occurs to me that royalty, and all the pomp and privilege that come with it, is a human construct. Pilate must recognize Jesus’s power on some level, but not knowing how to categorize it, he calls it kingship. We must need this title too – hence this feast. That’s curious to me. “King” is not a title Jesus needs; it’s one that we ascribe to him because we need it. It’s hard for us to describe his power and majesty, the fact that, after a life of suffering, we think of him with God in all his glory, and so we use the metaphor of a king. As we elevate this simple but divine man from Galilee, though, I hope we don’t lose sight of the point he’s trying to make in this Gospel – that we belong to Christ and we belong to the Kingdom of God that we’re living into now.
What does it mean to belong to this kingdom, this realm not of this world? It seems like belonging in this world sometimes requires some status, some wealth, some privilege. Secular society does not always offer a place of belonging for everyone, which is why we sometimes have to push hard for justice. Everyone is not offered the same belonging; some have quite a lot of it while others have very little. It doesn’t have to be that way – there could be enough to go around – but instead, some people try to take it all. Belonging in the Kingdom of God, though, is a different thing. I think of all the people to whom Jesus extended belonging. You didn’t even have to be a good person; you could be a very obvious sinner, and you could belong. (Although sinners didn’t stay that way after encountering Jesus, by their own choices.) To belong to this kingdom, all we have to do is listen and recognize the truth. I find this comforting. I don’t have to work hard to belong to Christ; Christ welcomes me with love and compassion, and all I have to do is recognize it.
This feast also marks the end of the Church year. A lot of the readings for the past few weeks have been about the end times. Honestly, after all we’ve been through in the past few years, especially these past few months, these apocalyptic readings cut a little close to the bone. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad they’re over. But really, I look forward to the weeks ahead, not because we are done with the apocalypse, but because next Sunday is the First Sunday of Advent, this beautiful season of waiting in anticipation, light emerging in darkness, and hope, joyful hope. So, this Sunday we look at the kingship of Christ, and next Sunday, and for the weeks after, we’ll remember that this so-called king came into the world just like we did — poor and vulnerable and in need. And in this gentle season, the church year starts anew and we get a fresh beginning too.
So, as I again let go of this image of Christ in glory, which doesn’t resonate too much with me, I wonder about the other things I can let go of. As I move toward Advent, I hope I can gentle my spirit into this waiting space. I also consider, in light of what Jesus says in the Gospel, what truth do I need to acknowledge, open to, and even welcome?
For Reflection:
What do you feel like you need to let go of? What needs to be refreshed in your life?
What truth is God trying to reveal to you? What truth do you need to acknowledge and even welcome?
When you think about leadership, how does secular leadership differ from genuine spiritual leadership, especially that of Christ? As you serve in the Kingdom of God, what kind of leadership do you offer?
What’s God’s invitation to you right now? How will you respond?
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Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, dancing, meaningful conversations, and pumpkin spice.