Reflections: Solemnity of Christ the King

The Feast of Christ the King is my "personal favorite" Mass of the entire Church year.

I love the focus on Christ as King at the end of time (note that it's also the end of the Church year... next week we start a New Year with the first week of Advent, preparing for Christ's coming at Christmas.)

This weekend's readings this year (Year A in the three-year cycle of A, B, C) are my favorite of the three.

So this weekend is an extra special treat for me!

The readings for this year in Year A are all about Christ the good shepherd who is also the King. It's a fantastic contrast, and a reminder of the depth and breadth of who God is - who Christ is.

The Lord is indeed my shepherd - he provides for me; he picks me up and shows me the way when I'm weak or lost.  He's also my King and judge.

Who’s the Judge? The Shepherd? The King?

After music group, in our small group tonight, we read through the readings for this coming Sunday (The Solemnity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ the King) and had some good discussion around the Gospel in particular. It (Mt 25:31-46) is a doozie!:

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,
I 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."

Our discussion centered around the Christian commission to give to the marginalized and less fortunate - to be Christ's presence to the Christ in them.

We talked a lot about the questions and the feelings that well up when a panhandler asks for money... Is this person really in need? Is this for a dinner, or for the next dose of the drug of the day? Is this for the bus pass, or for the next swig of booze?

We talked about the guilt when you walk by someone in need with the doubt in your mind, without helping them... sometimes without acknowledging them.

We talked about the frustration when you give to someone in need, only to have them show a lack of appreciation - to throw your gift back at you if it's "not enough" or "not what I wanted."

Here's what struck me the most in the discussion:
It's not up to us to have to make the judgement about whether our giving was for a worthy request or not. God - Christ - the King - knows our heart. And He knows their heart. And the judgement of the motives and the giving and the withholding will be done by Him - not by us - at the end.

I make that judgement a lot - I have to, as I travel, and am in other, big, cities a lot. I'll walk past one person acting as though I don't have any cash. I'll give some to another who "seems" more in need, or more "legitimate", or whatever. Is that right? Not really. I shouldn't be making that judgement. I should be giving out of the great abundance God has blessed me with. I should be leaving it to the Good Shepherd who knows both the giver's heart and the receiver's heart.

The feast of Christ the King has been my favorite Sunday of the Church year since I returned to the faith a few years ago. I love the imagery of "the end", right before we being a new year with the anticipation of Advent - preparing for Christ's coming at Christmas. I love the imagery of the "end times", the reminders of particular and general judgement, the reminder of Christ's Kingship and dominion over all.  What I love the most, though, is the reminder that Christ is really BOTH the powerful temporal King that we expect in this life AND the quiet, gentle, loving shepherd that we need both now and in the next life.

That Darn Tree

Those who have heard me speak locally on the Sacraments and sacramental signs - either at a Koinonia or at a confirmation prep night - have heard the story of how I was led away from the Church and from Christianity for a period of my life.

It basically follows the typical cradle-Catholic-leaves-then-reverts formula.

When I was a young man, I worked for 10 summers of my life at our council's boy scout camp. One spring, while working with several fellow staffers at a spring weekend campout, I saw a close friend and fellow staffer sitting, motionless, on a bench in front of the main lodge, focused on a tree across the main parade field and the creek just beyond it. He didn't move for the longest time, and I eventually approached him and asked what he was doing.

He expressed that he was watching the tree's energy. A rather strong conversation ensued, and he pointed me to a book: The Celestine Prophecy. I read the book, and it led me down a long trail of "New Age" spirituality and away from the Church for many years.

That tree became emblematic of my search for the "Spirit" in the world around me.

During that time, I even became downright virulent with Christian friends trying to defend their faith. In some ways, I was a modern day, pre-conversion Saint Paul.

It was about this time of year a few years back that another friend invited me back to church at 10 PM Mass at SLU on a cold winter night. That's when, for the first time in my adult life, I truly believed and saw Christ's presence in the assembly... in the priest... in the Holy Eucharist.

It's part of why this time of year is now one of my favorite... for the natural beauty of fall, but also for the beauty of the liturgies - the readings and prayers - of this end time of the liturgical year, talking of faith and Sainthood and the end times... and reaching its apex next weekend with my favorite feast day, the end of the liturgical year, on the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King.

In honor of the journey and the grace, I share the timeless words of St. Augustine, from his Confessions, on his return to faith:

Urged to reflect upon myself, I entered under your guidance the innermost places of my being; but only because you had become my helper was I able to do so. I entered, then, and with the vision of my spirit, such as it was, I saw the incommutable light far above my spiritual ken and transcending my mind: not this common light which every carnal eye can see, nor any light of the same order; but greater, as though this common light were shining much more powerfully, far more brightly, and so extensively as to fill the universe. The light I saw was not the common light at all, but something different, utterly different, from all those things. Nor was it higher than my mind in the sense that oil floats on water or the sky is above the earth; it was exalted because this very light made me, and I was below it because by it I was made. Anyone who knows truth knows this light.

O eternal Truth, true Love, and beloved Eternity, you are my God, and for you I sigh day and night. As I first began to know you, you lifted me up and showed me that, while that which I might see exists indeed, I was not yet capable of seeing it. Your rays beamed intensely on me, beating back my feeble gaze, and I trembled with love and dread. I knew myself to be far away from you in a region of unlikeness, and I seemed to hear your voice from on high: "I am the food of the mature: grow, then, and you shall eat me. You will not change me into yourself like bodily food; but you will be changed into me".

Accordingly I looked for a way to gain the strength I needed to enjoy you, but I did not find it until I embraced the mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who is also God, supreme over all things and blessed for ever. He called out, proclaiming I am the Way and Truth and the Life, nor had I known him as the food which, though I was not yet strong enough to eat it, he had mingled with our flesh, for the Word became flesh so that your Wisdom, through whom you created all things, might become for us the milk adapted to our infancy.
 
Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!  You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you.  In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.  You were with me, but I was not with you.  Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all.  You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.  You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.  You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you.  I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.  You touched me, and I burned for your peace.