Ironically, 1925 was a Jubilee Year in Christendom—the 1600th anniversary of the final meeting of the Council of Nicaea, which confirmed that Christ is of the same substance as the Father. The second section of the Nicene Creed, explaining who Jesus is, ends with the statement: “His kingdom shall have no end.”
And so, when Pope Pius XI issued his encyclical Quas Primas, which discussed the threat of fascism and nationalism as it rose again across the planet even while World War I was a bitterly fresh memory, he also initiated a corrective to that threat—a threat which still hangs over all of us, especially in America, Europe, and elsewhere. That corrective was the Feast of Christ the King. And here’s what Pope Pius XI said about this concept, which relates so perfectly to our gospel today:
It has long been a common custom to give to Christ the metaphorical title of "King," because of the high degree of perfection whereby he excels all creatures. So he is said to reign "in the hearts of humanity," both by reason of the keenness of his intellect and the extent of his knowledge, and also because he is very truth, and it is from him that truth must be obediently received by all mankind. He reigns, too, in the wills of humanity, for in him the human will was perfectly and entirely obedient to the Holy Will of God, and further by his grace and inspiration he so subjects our free-will as to incite us to the most noble endeavors. (Quas Primas, 7)Referring to our gospel passage, Pope Pius continued:
Before the Roman magistrate he declared that his kingdom was not of this world. The gospels present this kingdom as one which men prepare to enter by penance, and cannot actually enter except by faith and by baptism, which, though an external rite, signifies and produces an interior regeneration. This kingdom is opposed to none other than to that of Satan and to the power of darkness. It demands of its subjects a spirit of detachment from riches and earthly things, and a spirit of gentleness. They must hunger and thirst after justice, and more than this, they must deny themselves and carry the cross. (Quas Primas, 15)
The Rev. Edward J. Quinn KNEW what the battlefields of that terrible war had been like. The Roman Catholic priest had been a chaplain in that war. And in 1926, he had just been appointed the priest to a new parish in Cincinnati, Ohio—the first church in the world to be named after the new Holy Feast of Christ the King. The 200 people gathered to worship at the first Mass at Our Lord Christ the King parish on December 5, 1926 didn’t even have a building— not even electricity. Just a room in a storefront, illuminated by car headlights pointed into it. The Rev. Quinn used his mass kit from his army chaplaincy to celebrate the Mass. This was as bold a statement as could be that Jesus’s reign was not about power or strife, but about peace and reconciliation.
The very humility, simplicity, and hopefulness of the scene is a reminder of the humility, simplicity, and hopefulness Jesus calls us to practice in our relationships with each other—especially in a world that is founded even right now on exactly the opposite values. Those values are listed by Pope Pius: a detachment from earthly things that we too often worship, allowing our pursuit of them to rule our lives in place of God. A spirit of gentleness. An acknowledgement of the grace that sustains us, the source of all goodness in our lives so that we may live out our gratitude by caring for each other and fighting not for advantage over our neighbors but for justice for our neighbors—a hunger and a thirst after justice that Jesus embodied with every breath and every action but we far too often shove aside in our quest for more for ourselves.
Explaining why we stiff-necked Americans, who have ever claimed to disdain anyone who tries to be king over us has always been a difficult task for preachers—right up there with encouraging people to “carry their own crosses.” Also NOT a pleasant metaphor at a time when sacrifice is pretty much a dirty word.
In our gospel today, Jesus is handed over to the power of empire, and resists its claim of dominance. Jesus literally speaks truth to power in our gospel today. Governments rise and fall, because they are the work of human intention and fallibility, always, even the best of them-- but the reign of Christ is eternal. Pilate asks Jesus three questions in our gospel-- but Jesus does not answer a single one of them. This is a reminder that Jesus is not going to cower before power. Instead, he claims for himself the role of witness—a witness who testifies to the truth.
And what is truth? One of my favorite TV shows is Ted Lasso. On it, a wise therapist named Dr. Sharon repeats this mantra: “The truth will set you free. But first, it will [tick] you off.” She is speaking about the truths of this world. The truths agains the delusions people tell themselves to justify anything in order to preserve their own sense of privilege. Even though privilege is exactly what Jesus refuses to exercise, again and again, and as his followers we are called to a radical, fierce unity in the pursuit of justice and the ending of oppression for our neighbors, even those who are strangers to us. We are called by our true King to relieve the burden of the poor, the suffering of the sick, the isolation of the imprisoned even if they are guilty of wrong-doing, to bear banners of peace and justice rather than weapons of war in our streets, to prioritize life over property. And if you don’t think that is counter-cultural, you haven’t been paying attention to just this week’s news alone.
Jesus’s truth, Jesus’s witness must be OUR truth and OUR witness. And beyond any earthly maneuvers for power, for exploitation, or for domination, this truth will set you free, and give you life and joy and community. That’s the truth of Jesus’s life. He calls us to be the very best versions of ourselves because he knows that is how we were made to be all along. He has faith in us, and calls us to have faith in ourselves that a better way is possible, through the loving, healing, restoring touch of Christ within our inmost being.
This is the truth to which Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection testify: God is love, and those who follow the Way of Jesus walk and live and move in and through and out of love for God but also, and this is the harder part, being animated to live and breathe and speak love for each other. Especially those we believe are outside our comfort zone. The Good News is: God loves us immensely. The other side of that truth, sometimes less comforting and more challenging, is that we only follow God when we love each other, especially the people who tick us off, that much.
One of the key signs that one lives under the oppressive heat of empire is realizing that the values of the powers and principalities depends upon fabrication, defamation, and subterfuge. Injustice prevails by convincing the comfortable that if they dare push back against the unjust, they will only succeed in being at the mercy of the unmerciful. It is not for nothing that one of the ancient pseudonyms for Satan is “the Prince of Lies.” We spend too much of our lives in a kingdom of calumny, an empire of evasion, a realm of revilement, a principality of prevarication. Jesus offers us true freedom from being false to our true natures as God’s children, if only we can let go of the fear that causes us to go along to get along.
The Way of Jesus was and REMAINS a threat to the power and empires of the world and right here in our own country and communities. Yet, periodically, Jesus’s followers have been tempted to claim that Jesus’s kingdom IS of this world, to claim that Jesus loves the same few people we love and hates the same people we fear or despise. They have attempted to drape God’s altars with national symbols-- as Nazi Germany did, never forget-- as if Jesus was synonymous with any nation. But that is certainly not the truth Jesus embodies.
Jesus is not about power, but about service—and so we must follow if we claim his name. Jesus is not about taking, but giving—and so we must follow if we claim his name. Jesus stands before the man who can order his death and talks not about power but about truth—which is the most dangerous power of all, in reality.
Jesus’s truth—and therefore our truth, as his followers-- is about the power of compassion, the power of healing, the power of hope, the power of restraint, forbearance, and forgiveness. Jesus’s truth—and ours—is about nothing less than refusing to harm each other when we think we can get away with it but instead honoring the image of God Godself that resides in every single human being whether we approve of them or not. Jesus’s truth—and ours—is about nothing less than reverencing all of creation and devoting ourselves to caring for it rather than consuming it and using it up because every leaf and speck of dirt bears the fingerprints of their Maker—who is also our Maker, Our Sovereign, Our Beloved. Our Lord and our God.
Recognizing Christ as reigning over us and within us, as the only authority to whom we owe allegiance, means not just following him to gain eternal life but to GIVE all of ourselves to his work of love and healing, not just from our leftover scraps but with everything we are and have.
But beyond flags or nationalities or economic maneuvering or earthly empires, Jesus’s truth most certainly WILL set us free. Free to embrace each other in love, generosity and hope.
Preached at the 10:30 Eucharist, held in person and online in a continuing time of pandemic caution, at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO.
Readings:
Citations/ Links for More Information:
Click here for an account of first Mass at Our Lord Christ the King Parish in Cincinnati.
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