Christ the King, Year B; St. Ann's.
Crucifixion was not just
designed to kill. It was not just designed to superadd pain or terror on top of
what would necessarily accompany death. It was designed to mock. Specifically,
it was designed to mock those who had “ideas above their stations,” those who
thought they were higher than they were. When people who were enslaved revolted
or harmed their slaveholders, crucifixion was a common punishment meted out.
The message was clear: “You think you were high and mighty? Well, we’ll show
you who’s mighty: The Roman Empire is. And we’ll show you just what happens to
people who try to exalt themselves: we’ll exalt you, we’ll lift you up, as we
slowly kill you.”
On the cross, Jesus mocks this mockery. As people
mock him with a crown of thorns and by lifting him up, he mocks the mockery by
proving that he can make even the cross his throne. The trial before Pilate is
the first time in John’s Gospel that Jesus accepts the title of king, even
though others had offered it before. On the cross, he gives his mother Mary and
his beloved disciple John to each other, forming the Church in miniature. On
the cross, he sends forth his Spirit and, even in death, has water and blood
issue from his side, inaugurating the sacraments on baptism and Eucharist. They
lift him up to mock him, to try to unmask him as powerless, but he shows true
power: not the power to refuse suffering, but the power to minister to us through
it, to form us into those communities that are signs of the kingdom, and bring
us close to him through the gift of the Holy Spirit and the Sacraments. Christ
the King, enthroned on the cross, mocking the mockery of Rome, brings to a new
level his work of making us like him, and that includes making us kings,
queens, royals, shepherd, servants.
And, so, our reading from Revelation didn’t speak
of Christ’s kingship, but of ours. Over the past few weeks, our second reading
has been from Hebrews, which is the New Testament writing that talks at the
most length about Christ’s priesthood. But this passage of Revelation speaks too
of ours. When this passage of Revelation speaks of Christ, it’s as ‘witness,’
and other parts of Revelation call all Christians to be witnesses too. That
notion of witness is a helpful way of seeing what the relationship is between
Christ’s offices (priest, prophet and king) and the way we are invited to share
in them. The moon has been very full recently, it’s been very bright. But, we
know that the moon has no light of its own. The moon has been reflecting the
sun; the moon has been doing a good job as a witness to the sun’s light, a
witness that doesn’t just point to the sun’s light but shares it with the
world.
We as church are called to share the kingship,
the priesthood and the prophecy that is Christ’s. We exercise prophecy by
speaking of what God has done for us and calling out for justice; we exercise
priesthood through prayer and through living lives of sacrifice; we exercise
kingly-servant-shepherdly rule through ordering every level of society (from
our families, to world government, science and commerce) to the glory of God,
which is the full flourishing of every human being. The ordained priesthood
exists to do these things specifically within the church (to teach and preach;
to pray and offer especially the sacrifice of the Mass; and lead and serve so
that the baptized so as you all can do this for the whole world. To celebrate
Christ the King is to acknowledge first that we are not kings in the sense
Christ is (the moon is no sun); and then to act, to say that nothing else is
king the way Christ is and act to turn away from those false kings of power,
lust and greed that dehumanize our sisters and brothers, to build a world in
which it’s easier to be good. And that world is not the kingdom. We can’t build
the kingdom of God, God’s doing that. But we can reflect it a little.
On Tuesday, the church will celebrate the
memorial of Miguel Pro, who was martyred on November 23rd 1927, at
age 36. He was a Jesuit priest who ministered as part of the underground church
in Tabasco, Mexico, where all religion had been almost completely suppressed.
Once captured, President Calles found an excuse to have him executed, without a
trial. Just as he had refused to not see the suffering of the people of Mexico,
to whom he had returned after studies in Europe, he refused to not see his
executioners, refusing a blindfold as he prayed for the men who shot him. He
prayed for their forgiveness, extended his arms in imitation of the Cross, a
moon, a witness, and cried out “Viva Cristo Rey!” with his last breath, “Long
live Christ the King.” He’d heard Christ’s words. He bore witness. He
celebrated Christ the King with his whole life.
You may have seen photos of his execution. This is because President Calles had it photographed and distributed the photos widely to discourage others from trying to maintain an active practice of the faith. The photos only encouraged them. The Cristero movement drew new life from Pro’s witness and bore witness itself. We hope we’ll never have to do that with our blood, but we too are called to cry out with our lives, “Viva Cristo Rey! Long live Christ the King!”
No comments:
Post a Comment