Christ
the King
November
26, 2017
Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB
Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB
As any of you who
preach regularly know, sometimes the grand arc of structure in a homily eludes
the preacher. We cannot see the final vision, only the parts and the thread of
commonality, well, sometimes it fails to materialize. This is a reality I call
“random thoughts” and so this evening, as we close the celebration of this
Solemnity of Christ the King, I have a few random thoughts.
The first random
thought is this: My father, who was a lifelong military man, loved “The Battle
Hymn of the Republic”, this, in spite of the fact that he was a died in the
wool southerner with a backlog of many generations and of course, Julia Ward
Howe’s great song was the battle cry of the Union army during the Civil War. I
think my father loved it because it expresses so much about country, and
patriotism but also about discipleship, our discipleship. I am thinking now
about the last verse:
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free
Of course, Julia
Ward Howe is speaking of the soldiers of the Union army. But isn’t she also
intimating something about us as well? Christ died for us. Christ was a king,
yes, but he took the form of a slave, being born in our likeness. He died for
us a death no king should have to die. And yet, he did, he did for us. Now, let
us die to make our brothers and sisters free. Let us take up the mantle of our
king and remember that what he did for us, we are called to do for others, to
pour out our lives on the altar, to remember them in each offering of the
sacrifice, his sacrifice.
As he died to make
us holy, we die so that the freedom of Christ may penetrate our world, through
our ministry, through our work, through our identity, and yes, through our
willingness to lay down our lives for others, to lay down our lives for the
world. I think my father, a great disciple of Christ, knew that the “Battle
Hymn of the Republic” was not only a wartime chant, it was a discipleship
chant. It still gives me chills today when I hear it.
A second random
thought that came to me as I was watching “The Crown” over the break. For those
yet uninitiated, the Netflix show is about the reign of Queen Elizabeth II from
the beginning. In one of the early episodes, the new queen is speaking to her
grandmother, Queen Mary, about the responsibilities of her office. The elder
queen tells her young granddaughter that the success of the monarchy depends
upon the queen, or the king having no opinions at all, of absolute impartiality.
There is no room for passion in the monarch. How very different of course, from
what we experience in this feast. The message of the Gospel is a message of
involvement.
Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.
Brothers and sisters what are we to do?
I think the message is very clear, we must do something. You know, over the
years I have come to discern something essential about our life. Our life, our
discipleship, our meaning, our BEING in Christ is not about success, at least
not success as we commonly, very commonly, think about it. Our BEING in Christ
is about offering, it is about sacrifice. It is about trying and trying. It is
about experimenting and failing. It is about standing and stumbling. It is
about courage. It is about perseverance. Our minds must always be turned to
questions like: What is next? What can I do differently? What can I do better?
How can I serve more exhaustingly? There is no anonymity here. There is no
cowering here. There is no fear here. What is here? Christ the King is here and
he strengthens me for the journey that is ahead, a journey that is about
pouring out and taking chances and failing and succeeding and doing everything
we can to avoid perfect neutrality in matters of God.
Finally, there was a random thought
that came from this line in the Epistle:
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Of course, it reminded me of Harry
Potter. Unlike some, I do not think of Harry Potter as a great Christian
allegory. I don’t think there is that much in it except a really wonderful
story. But that one line, Harry discovers written on the gravestone of his
parents summarizes everything.
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Brothers and sisters, in these last
days of November we have come to the waning of autumn and with that autumn and
the advent of winter, the approach of a new liturgical year. Isn’t it prescient
that just as the whole world is falling asleep, we in the Church are waking up?
Just as death overcomes the world in which we live each day, life spring newly
in the person of the Savior, about to be born for us in obscure terms, in a
near-forgotten place, to a stumbling group of people. In that obscurity
however, there is a kind of kingship. In that “smallness” One comes among us to
change the course of human affairs, not by political wrangling (this is no
Caesar or Herod) but by offering. The king is king by offering. We share his
kingship by offering.
Whatever you do to the least, you do to me.
That is the reality
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
That is the promise.
Brothers and sisters as we stand tonight
on the cusp of a new reality, the reality of the Body and Blood of Christ made
manifest for us, as we stand here tonight in our randomness, let us thank God.
Indeed, in our randomness, let us thank
Almighty God.
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