Called To Be Members of the Royal Family of Christ
A Reflection for the Solemnity of Christ the King
By Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB
It is quite noteworthy that the Catholic Church crowns the liturgical year with the Solemnity of Christ the King. It is a reminder that, although we refer to the largest season of the year as “Ordinary Time,” there has, in fact, been no such thing as ordinary time since the coming of Christ the King 2000 years ago. Since then, we have been living in Extraordinary Time - Apocalyptic Time. Since Pentecost, when Christ the King sent forth his Spirit upon the earth and in the hearts of his people, no moment can be considered ordinary. Every moment now can be an apocalyptic - a revelatory moment - in the life of a person of faith. Human beings, who were created in the image and likeness of God with both body and spirit, have always existed in a kind of “end-of-the-world” space because of their being at the boundary between the corporeal and the spiritual. In every moment, through a person’s actions, the realm of the spirit can have a revelatory effect in the world, especially when the action flows from love. Unfortunately, so often our actions flow more from the realm of worldly desire and self-interest, rather than from love. But in the end-of-the-world space, as it were, in which we exist as human persons - the apocalyptic realm of our existence as members of the Body of Christ - we are called to the freedom of members of a royal family - the divine family of the Holy Trinity - that is, as sons and daughters of God in Christ. As members of this royal family we are called to rule our lives and the world around us by the authority and power of love.
When we think of kingship, we naturally think of power. We are always, usually unconsciously, seeking ways to give ourselves a sense of power and control over our lives and the world around us. As a little humorous example, when I look at my shadow, it gives me a sense of power as I think to myself, “Rays of light traveled 93 million miles unobstructed, and I then stopped them from reaching the ground.” But what I really should be thinking is about how God has created me as a royal creature in his own image and likeness, my soul being as a lens to magnify divine light. I ought to be able to say with Mary, “My soul magnifies the Lord!” But instead, the lens of my soul is clouded by my sinful flesh. Pride and selfish ambition block the divine rays of the light of love which flow into me from eternity. The result is that I cast a shadow instead of casting a grace-filled glow of loving light befitting a member of the divine royal family.
Exercising worldly power and control can become a significant underlying motivation for us without us even realizing it. Even our good deeds can sometimes, without realizing it, become a way of giving us a sense of self-satisfaction and control. Recently, Fr. Asiel came with me to the Missionaries of Charity. He had never been there before. Sr. Benedict Ann, the local superior, came over to Fr. Asiel to introduce herself and to talk about their ministry. She explained to him that they run a women’s shelter, and have a soup kitchen. She said that they feed Jesus every day at the soup kitchen as they feed the poor who come there to eat. Fr. Asiel said to her, “What if you get before the Pearly Gates and find out that Jesus doesn't like soup?” After a short hesitation, and, laughing, she replied, “We make more than soup there.” Of course, Fr. Asiel said that to be humorous. But it does provide food for thought (pun intended). Jesus wants me to feed the hungry, but he wants me to do it with the care required by the demands of love. And what are the demands of love for me? For me, love demands that I serve others like I am serving the King himself. Love demands that I carry out my daily service with the awareness of the King’s presence in the others whom I am serving. Love demands that I carry out my service to others with the very care and concern that is demanded of a relationship with Christ the King. Since Christ the King demands that I love him with my whole mind, whole heart, whole soul, and whole strength, then I must therefore carry out my loving service of other people with my whole mind, heart, soul, and body engaged. In the parable of the Judgment of the Nations (Matthew 25:31-40), Jesus says, “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.’” The king welcomes those on his right into the heavenly kingdom because they are already members of the divine royal family. Unlike those on the King’s left, they have lived their lives as divine royalty, ruling their lives by the authority of love. We know what Jesus says to those on his left. Jesus could just as well have said to them: I created you in the image and likeness of God to shine forth with royal splendor, with the being and life of royal priesthood. I endowed you with the capacity to exercise divine authority – the divine authority of love. But you refused. You chose to remain enslaved to the worldly authority of selfish ambition. I called you to the freedom of sons and daughters of God, but you chose the servitude of slaves to the flesh.
The parable of the Judgment of the Nations is central to my sense of vocation. For me parables are not informational. Parables are formational. A parable is not meant to merely teach a lesson. A parable does not merely convey information and instruction about a moral principle, but is meant to form the moral principle in the heart of the person who meditates upon it. Parables instill moral principles primarily through the stimulation of the imagination and memory, rather than through conceptual understanding. Jesus used parables, such as the Parable of the Judgement of the Nations, to stimulate our imagination and memory so that every moment of decision about how to act and respond toward other people will be a revelatory - an apocalyptic moment - a moment of challenge to jolt us out of our comfort zone. For me, in every moment, every decision becomes a decision made before Christ the King himself. As I am making a decision about how to respond to another person, I see it as a choice of choosing an action which invites Jesus’ invitation for me to move over to his right, or choosing an action which invites the invitation for me to move to his left. Of course, I always start out my day on Jesus' right, but as the day progresses I sometimes see myself shifting to his left. Of course, I always endeavor to get back onto his right by bedtime, or else I will not be able to sleep. And how do I get back on his right? Through acts of love - through self-sacrificing service.
We are called to be kings and queens - members of the royal family of Christ - through the exercise of the power and authority of love. But we often seek to be kings and queens through the exercise of the authority of worldly power that flows from selfish ambition. Let me explain with the use of a parable: Once there was a stonecutter who was bored and unhappy with his job because it did not give him a sense of authority and control over his life. One morning, as he was cutting stones, he saw the king pass by. He prayed to God: “Lord, please make me the king because I am tired of being a stonecutter. It seems good to be king.” Instantly, the Lord made him a king. While he was a king he was walking along a road one day and found the sun much too hot. He said to God: “It seems the sun is more powerful than the king. I would like to be the sun.” Instantly, the Lord made him the sun. As he was shining brightly one morning, he found that the clouds were blocking his sunshine, then he thought to himself: “It seems as though the clouds are better than the sun because they can obstruct my sunshine.” So he said to the Lord: “I want to be the clouds.” He became the clouds. As the clouds he also became the rain that poured down on the earth becoming a great flood. He said to himself: “I am now very powerful.” But then he noticed a big rock that blocked his flow. He said to himself: “It seems the stone is more powerful than I am. I want to be this stone.” Then he became the stone. One morning, a stonecutter started to cut him into smaller pieces. He said: “It seems the stonecutter is more powerful than I am. I want to be a stonecutter.” Then he instantly became a stonecutter - what he originally was. We, like this stonecutter, are always trying to achieve and advance to gain greater power and control over this world. But what we need to realize is that we are able to be a king and exercise true mastery through the mastery of our particular craft exercised with the authority and the power of love. Then we are true kings in the presence of Christ the King.
All for Jesus,
Fr. Max
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