Christ the King 2021
Daniel 7:13-14; Apocalypse 1:5-8; John 18: 33-37
“Kings ain’t what they used to be”, to misquote the old song. I think that I am correct in saying that the only old style king, the only absolute monarch, remaining in today’s world, is to be found in Eswatini, formerly known as Swaziland, in southern Africa.
Other countries, though not a great number, have constitutional monarchs, largely figureheads, and indeed Spain restored the monarchy in 1975. Our own Queen is widely respected for her devotion to duty, as she continues to carry out commitments at the age of 95; for her wisdom, acquired through an engagement with, and a study of, international affairs stretching back over seventy years; and for her common sense, evident in her speeches which show up, by contrast, the stupidity and cupidity of many politicians, not least in her Christmas broadcasts, in which she is the only public figure to
refer to Jesus, without hesitation, as Our Lord. Whether a similar respect will be accorded to her successor is open to question for a whole variety of reasons.
In general, we can see kingship as an outmoded concept, and the Feast of Christ the King as an anomaly, an oddity in the eyes of the inhabitants of most countries, a relatively new feast which, perhaps, deserves to be quietly dropped from the liturgical calendar.
Whether plans to drop it exist, I have no idea. For the present, at least, it remains, and we must do our best to make something of it. In this attempt, the irrelevance of kings may actually be a help, rather than a hindrance.
Why might that be? It is because Christ, as a king, is seen as an irrelevance in His own time. Indeed, this irrelevance in the eyes of the world forms the basis of His kingship. Pilate, as we have heard, sees it as a basis for insult, asking “Are you the King of the Jews?”, a sarcastic question, showing contempt for Jesus, but having a particular edge for the Jewish people who, since the Babylonian Exile centuries before, had considered that only God could be their king.
Pilate was to follow through on this sneering question, affixing the proclamation “Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews” to the Cross in no fewer than three languages, announcing to the world his contempt, not only for the criminal hanging there, but for the whole of Jesus’ subject race. Thus, the whole concept of the kingship of Christ began as an insulting joke.
It began too as a questioning of truth. “All who are on the side of truth listen to my voice” said Our Lord, and we recall Pilate’s presumably mocking response “What is truth?”, a question and a mockery which are effectively echoed to day by politicians in many parts of the world, by the wielders of wealth, and even by certain bishops, to say nothing of the “influencers” who post lies and insults on social media.
Christ’s kingship then, is a matter of affirming, and living for, truth. Into that kingship, awkward as the word may be, we are baptised, as the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us. Consequently, this feast is, for us, a reminder and a summons to live always in truth, being true to ourselves, which means being true to our rebirth as children of God, and brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ.
Inevitably, this will bring us into conflict with those elements in the world which effectively deny the reality or the importance of truth, the truth of the Lordship of Christ and of the dignity of every human being. We must insist too on the truth which is expressed through justice and, as we are becoming increasingly aware, through a respectable stewardship of the whole of creation.
This conflict with the denial of truth will bring us to share in the sufferings of Christ, whose kingship was declared on a Cross. It is in the crucifixion of Christ that we recognise Him as our King, our ruler, our leader, whatever term we wish to use—a term which identifies us with Him, and which demands that we follow Him in our own commitment to truth.
