Christ the King – Year A: 26.11.23
12noon: Church of St. Eustace, Newbridge
Introduction:
The month of November is very much about endings. We pray for those who have gone before us; here in St. Eustace’s Church, the Dominican Church, we remember those who built this church in the 1960’s. The third church on this sacred site. We include members of the Dominican community who served here and are now looking on the face of God in eternity. And their benefactors, those who prayed here over the years and are now earning their eternal rest.
I understand the more recent renovations here in St. Eustace’s saw new floor covering in the body of the church and on the sanctuary; a complete rewiring of the church and its environs and improvements in the sacristy area and corridor that leads from the sacristy.
The Feast of Christ the King Feast augurs a week of endings. The end of the Church year, the last Sunday before a new church year commences. The word ‘King’ doesn’t fall easily off Irish tongues, it’s not our thing really. And yet as gaeilge we celebrate ‘Rí án Domhnaigh’, the King of Sunday, also a title we give to the Risen Christ.
He is the one who inspires us to feed the hungry, to welcome the stranger and to visit the sick. In a week where too many fell short we pray for forgiveness. In our rush to condemnation and judgement, lets take a moment to acknowledge our own shortcomings, our own omissions, our own missed opportunities and so we pray …
Homily:
Our first thought today “should be one of gratitude and thanksgiving to God that we are members of His kingdom upon earth”. I’m paraphrasing the words used ninety years ago, nearly to the day, by a Fr. Foynes on the occasion of the consecration and centenary of the Cathedral of the Assumption, Carlow. We are not celebrating any significant anniversary here in St. Eustace’s but every moment in the life of a faith community, in the life of its place of worship is worthy of celebrating. And today it is the new floor covering, the rewiring and the ancillary works in the environs of the church. Every work we do is a building up of His Kingdom.
Ten years ago when I was ordained Bishop, Fr. Liam Lawton, our Diocesan Director of Sacred Music wrote a hymn called ‘Holy Ground’. The chorus goes:
“This is holy ground
In this holy place
Where God’s love is found
We come to seek his face
For all who gather, blessings rich a bound.
Where angels follow, here on holy ground”
Our feet rest on holy ground as we gather this day to honour Christ the King and to further bed in His Kingdom.
The other evening I had occasion to visit Clongowes Wood College, a Jesuit stronghold; like the Dominicans, a college that has a proud rugby tradition. While there I was shown a Douay Bible with simultaeneous translations in Latin, Greek, Arabic, Syriac and Ethiopian on the one page of the epistle of St. Paul to the Ephesians. What drew my attention even more was the dedication on the inside page honouring King Charles II , the bible dated from the mid 1660’s, three hundred years before this church was built.
As I mentioned earlier we are not over comfortable with the idea of kings or crowns and yet so much of our history is wrapped around our nearest neighbour, when any of us dare to enter our shared attic of memory. The Netflix series ‘The Crown’ now in its sixth season has even hardened nationalists pinned to their seats! Most of us are, if we are honest, intrigued by the life of royals. The other night even I found myself captivated by a french documentary on the death of Diana.
So what is this Kingdom Jesus seeks to establish? Respect for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger; the one who is naked; the sick and those in prison. Remember the only time Christ was crowned King was on a cross at Calvary and then it was in a moment of ridicule and spite. The crown and Christ always sound a contradiction – offering the world that most clichéd term ‘real change’ is much more the Christian thinking where the naked are clothed; the sick are visited and those in prison are repatriated.
St. Teresa of Calcutta said that there were five words that could summarise the entire Gospel “you did it to me” . If we lived these words, our world would be a much better place. Today’s feast, coming as I mentioned at the end of the Church year, weaves the notion of Shepherd and King wonderfully. Jesus, the servant leader, the shepherd king, offers us a kind of leadership with a very different and distinct approach to change. Jesus doesn’t offer change; he demands it! And he shows us how to make that change effective … back to those five words which echo strongly from our gospel: “you did it to me” . The corollary also holds through, when you neglect to take up the challenge – “you neglected to do it to me” .
Earthy thrones are sometimes built on fear and power to overawe, kings and queens have subjects. In the Old Testament many a King, even a good one succumbed to temptation. Christ the King has no subjects, only friends, only companions on the journey. In His presence fear dissipates and anger subsides. The stranger is made welcome; the outcast is brought to the centre and the bruised are healed.What happened on the streets of Dublin last Tursday and indeed what can happen on any of our streets, towns, villages and parishes can often be the very opposite to the message of Christ, a message of inclusion, welcome and love.
Leon O’Giolláin in his homily for Christ the King reminded me of the story of a good and kindly king who was concerned about his advancing years and his ability to continue governing and serving his people. He decided to seek an assistant, a man after his own heart whose only ambition would be to serve and seek the good of all, especially the weak and vulnerable. He issued a decree to all the areas of his kingdom looking for nominees. They were to come to the royal palace on a specified date but before twelve noon, as the palace gates would be closed then.
Nobelmen and aristocrats all prepared their CV’s and made their way to the palace. In one remote village there was a blacksmith, much loved by the people for his good and kindly disposition. The villagers pleaded with him to apply, he resisted, they persisted, eventually he gave in and made his way to the palace. As he approached the gates, he heard a poor man call out in distress, he dismounted his horse and attended to the man, promising further assistance later. Just then, the clock struck noon and the gates closed. He was too late, he returned to the village, dispondent because he felt he let down the villagers.
The following day the king announced he had chosen his royal assistant. Of all those who came to seek the position, only one heeded the poor man’s cry, this humble blacksmith. For he the king had disguised himself as the beggar at the palace gates. Matthews words come back “You did it to me” . The recent work here in St. Eustace’s is a statement that we honour Christ, that we acknowledge Him as King and that here we welcome the stranger, we bandage the wounded and we carry the lame, because:
“This is holy ground
In this holy place
Where God’s love is found
We come to seek his face
For all who gather, blessings rich a bound.
Where angels follow, here on holy ground”
The ground is holy not because of the new floor covering, but because this is a place of worship made holy by the faithful worshipping community over many years, today on behalf of the Domincans, I simply say thanks!