Sunday, November 23, 2008

Feast of Christ the King





(Pope John XX1II, b. Nov. 25, 1881 -- d. June 3, 1963)

King According to John XXIII

November 23, 2008, Feast of Christ the King
Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17 I Cor. 15:20-26, 28 Matthew 25:31-46

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a temple not built by human hands[2]

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.

Jesus said to his disciples: When the Son of Man comes in his glory,and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”
Then the righteous will answer him and say, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?” And the king will say to them in reply, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.” Then he will say to those on his left, “Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.” Then they will answer and say, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?” He will answer them, “Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.” And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Introduction
The end of the year
Today we arrive at the end of the church’s liturgical year. After having celebrated all the feasts of Our Lord and His saints through 52 weeks, the church crowns her fast-departing old year with a feast in honor of Christ the King. Next Sunday is New Years Day in the church with the arrival of the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2008.
A recent feast
Pope Pius XI instituted the feast of Christ the King as recently as 1925.[3] At that time, the pope was battling various kings and kingdoms. He was fighting anticlericalism in Mexico and the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. In his own backyard, he was contending with the Italian State which had wrested Italy back from the popes. The newly instituted feast seemed to say, “We have a King who is greater than all kings, and whose kingdom is more blessed than theirs. He is Jesus of Nazareth -- the ‘King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.’” (Rev 19:26)

This late November feast might be a bit superfluous. Already in early spring, there’s a feast honoring Christ as King. On Palm Sunday, the church cries out, "Hosanna to the Son of David! O King of Israel, hosanna in the highest!" Holy Week is a better context for the kingship of Christ. It sets Jesus upon an ass and not upon a throne. It places a palm branch in his hand and not a scepter. It plants a wreath of thorns upon his head and not a tiara. The Passion read on Palm Sunday sets the records straight for anyone who wants to build an earthly kingdom for Jesus. "My kingdom,” Jesus tells them, “is not of this world." (Jn 18:36)

A long list of rogue kings
The human race has a long history of rogue kings and dictators who exercised lethal authority over others. Back in Jesus’ day, King Herod, leery about Jesus the new-born king of the Jews, slew all baby boys two years and younger to make sure he had eliminated a threat to his throne. (Mt 2:2-16) In the first half of the twentieth century, Hitler gassed and starved to death six million Jews in the concentration camps of Dachau, Auschwitz and Buchenwald. In the second half of the twentieth century Saddam Hussein, who lived as a king in eight palaces before he ended up hiding in a hole in the ground, dotted the landscape of Iraq with kingly statues of himself, and he filled the dumps with the remains of people who did not want him as king. At the moment, the Islamic president of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, ominously promises that “Israel must be wiped off the map.”

However we might feel about kings, Scripture is clear: Jesus is a king. He is a king as He comes into the world and as He leaves it. At His conception the angel Gabriel announces to Mary that the Lord God would give her Son the throne of David, His father, and His kingdom would have no end. (Lk 1:33) At His trial the Roman governor Pontius Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you a king?” Jesus answers, “Yes, for this I was born, and for this I came into the world.” (Jn 18:37) Accordingly, a gang of Roman soldiers concocted a crown of thorns and pressed it down on Jesus’ head (Mt 27:29). Then they forced Him to climb the hill of Calvary and nailed Him to a cross. On it they hung an inscription over head written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin.

King on the Hill in the early church
Before the days when kids had money to buy hi-tech games, they had to invent their own games. They invented Hop-scotch, Kick the Can and King on the Hill. This last game fed into our innate yen to overcome and lord it over others. In that game you stood on top of a raft or a mound or any kind of a height, and you drove down anyone trying to get to the top. Whoever managed to get to the top and unseat the occupant proclaimed himself king.

Not only kids but also full-grown people, even great religions like Christianity and Islam like to play the game. The Christian church started playing King on the Hill already in the early third century when St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, claimed that “extra ecclesiam nulla salus” – that “outside the church there is no salvation.” Cyrian’s famous dictum was probably not much more than a comment made off the top of his head, but it stuck. And for centuries it launched the church off into a vigorous but dubitable pursuit of man’s salvation.

It is noteworthy that Judaism does not claim that outside the synagogue there is no salvation. The Talmud, for example, says that all righteous people of any religion, who observe the basic laws of morality, are saved. That’s a relativist approach to religion. It says, “I have my faith, you have your faith, and others have their faith.” On the other hand, there is the triumphalist approach to religion. That’s the approach of Christianity claiming outside the church there is no salvation. That’s also the approach of Islam claiming outside the mosque there is no salvation. Bernard Lewis[4] says that that approach has Christianity and Islam shouting at each other, “I’m right, you’re wrong, go to hell!”

Lewis admits, however, that the triumphalist approach is increasingly under attack in Christendom and is rejected now by many Christian clergymen. But there is very little sign that anything like that is happening in Islam. The apocalyptic event of 9/11, 2001, in which two 747s brought down the Twin Towers in Lower Manhattan and three thousand innocent human beings was not politically motivated; it was religiously motivated. It was a stout proclamation that “Outside the mosque there is no salvation!”

King on the hill in the church today
In 2000, Cardinal Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI) as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith issued a 36-page document entitled Dominus Iesus (Jesus the Lord). It warned Catholics not to water down the very extraordinary uniqueness of Jesus when dealing with Buddhism and Hinduism. In dialoguing with non-Catholic Christian churches, the document also warned Catholics not to water down the extraordinary uniqueness of the Catholic Church. The document, heavy with ponderous theology, was disheartening for ecumenists who for thirty years were laboriously building bridges. At times it seemed arrogant and condescending in such remarks as, “Though non-Catholic churches suffer from defects, they by no means have been deprived of significance and importance in the mystery of salvation.”

In 2007, Pope Benedict approved a document which restated the key sections of Dominus Iesus. The Rev. Sara MacVane of the Anglican Center in Rome said there was nothing new in the new document, and she did not know what motivated it. She pointed out, however, that there is the official position which likes to play king, and there is also an unofficial position which is infused with a spirit of fellowship with others, and which even worships with others. This is certainly true, she said, between Anglicans and Catholics and also between other groups and Catholics.

Do you know what Jesus does every time we try to play King on the Hill in His name? He hides Himself from us! After He multiplied the loaves and fishes, the fervent crowds wanted to seize Jesus and make Him king. Scripture says, “Jesus fled from them and went alone into the mountains and hid himself.” (Jn 6: 15)

The birthday of a great man
Next Tuesday, November 25, is the birthday of a great man who was born poor like Jesus, 107 years ago in 1881. Many of us senior citizens were his contemporaries and remember him with very deep affection. His name was Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli. He was born in a little Italian village called Bergamo Sotto il Monte (Bergamo at the Foot of the Mountain). Though born at the foot of the hill, he made it to the top. On October 28, 1958, Cardinal Roncalli was elected pope and took the name of John XXIII. On November 4, the day of his coronation, a tiara was placed upon his head. In his homily that day the new pope said that he had in mind for his pontificate the example of the Good Shepherd who came not to be served as kings are served but to serve.

The next day after his coronation, he sped off through elaborate Vatican gates to serve. He visited aging brother priests in nursing homes. He visited inmates in the nearby Regina Coeli Prison along the Tiber. “I come to you,” he told them, “because you couldn’t come to me.” When he celebrated his first Holy Thursday as pope, he revived an ancient custom of the church. Like Jesus John girded himself with a towel and bent down to wash the feet of 13 young priests. That rite had fallen into disuse for many centuries, and the disuse itself was symptomatic of a prevailing institutional attitude.

Conclusion
We remain in the church
Pope John’s example emanating from the lofty throne of Peter drew the whole church and world. It evidently drew Patricia Sitkins of Linden, California, who speaks of herself and her family as Catholics “who have drifted away from the church since the death of Pope John XXIII.” It drew Morris West, an Australian writer (1916-1999) famous especially for his books The Devil’s Advocate and The Shoes of the Fisherman. In A View from the Ridge he writes, “I believe I can say with certainty that I remained in communion with the Church even when the Church itself excluded me[5], and I remain there still, principally because of the presence of John XXIII, the Good Pastor, whom I never met, though I did meet his predecessor (Pius XII) and his successor (John Paul II). Goodness went out from this man to me. I acknowledged it then. I acknowledge it again.”

Many of us feel the same as Morris West did. We joyfully and hopefully remain in the church because of the witness of Pope John, the Good Pastor. And we remain in the church also because of a great cloud of other witnesses (Heb 12:1) like St. Francis of Assisi, Father Damien of Molokai, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Archbishop Hunthausen of Seattle, Bishop Kenneth Untener of Saginaw, Auxiliary Bishop Gumbleton of Detroit, Swiss theologian Father Hans Küng, Sister Joan Chittister, Father Geoffrey Farrow and a whole constellation of other witnesses.
All of them are true sons and daughters of the church. All of them were mysteriously begotten by the very church they took to task. “Therefore, surrounded as we are by such a great cloud of witnesses, we lay aside every weight and sin that easily entangles our feet. And we run with patient endurance the race that lies before us.” (Hebrew 12:1)

[1]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!


[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24
[3] In his encyclical Quas Primas (December 11, 1925) Pope Pius XI promulgated the Feast of Christ the King.

[4] Bernard Lewis (born May 31, 1916 in London, England) is a British-American historian, Orientalist, and political commentator.

[5] Though West was and always remained a Catholic, his various writings contain a good deal of criticism about the church, and the church was not always pleased with him.