Though the Church is celebrating today the Solemnity of Christ the King, we as a parish family commemorate the feast of our patroness, St. Cecilia. As what I explained in my bulletin article last weekend, as a liturgical rule, the celebration of the patronal feast is elevated to a solemnity. That’s why, even though it is the Solemnity of Christ the King, we are allowed to celebrate the Feast of St. Cecilia. But, if we reflect deeply, we can actually combine the two celebrations because what we celebrate in the Feast of St. Cecilia is ultimately the triumph of the kingship of Christ. St. Cecilia’s martyrdom — her vigor and her courageous witness to the faith — attest to the sublime truth that God’s kingdom is our greatest treasure, truly worth dying for.
The Solemnity of Christ the King closes or wraps up the whole liturgical seasons of the Church. Next Sunday, we enter into a new liturgical year in the first Sunday of Advent. This feast of Christ the King opens up a huge moment of reflection on what does it mean for us to be a Christian or a follower of Christ. It is not a co-incidence that as we end the liturgical year, we fix our eyes on Jesus enthroned in the fullness of his glory and majesty. It signifies that when everything is said and done here in this world, we hope to share in the glory of the Kingdom of God. This feast tells us that our journey, just like the shape of the liturgical calendar of the Church, must find its completion or end in the Kingdom of God, which all of us became heirs to when we were baptized. This is our greatest inheritance: to share in the very life of God.
This feast offers great hope for all of us. It is the hope that indeed the glory of God has the final word at the very end. What does this mean for you and me? This feast assures us that there is so much more than we have in this world; there is much more to anticipate in the future beyond what we can ever imagine. It provides the hope that despite our struggles, whether it be suffering from illness, sadness and anger because of a failed marriage, addiction, strained family relationships and so on, the fullness of God’s glory awaits us in the end. This is what Christian hope is all about. “Hope is not the conviction that something will always turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. It is the conviction that all that we live for, happiness and sorrow, victory and defeat, will be found to have some sense.” Crucifixion only made sense because of the resurrection. And resurrection means that the Kingdom of God triumphs in the end.
Life then must have to have some sense or meaning despite the difficulties, mess, and craziness that are part of it because God himself entered into this world, breathed the same air that we breathe. He did not just create it and leave it to exist on its own, but rather blessed it all the more when he became like us, sharing in our humanity. God did not just sustain us from afar like a distant king or monarch, who sits from distance, unreachable by the people, but rather God left, if we may say, the comfort of his kingdom in heaven to share in our frail humanity. And thus, this sharing of our humanity transforms us anew into worthy citizens of God’s kingdom. As I reflect on this, I often ask myself: Why did God have to send his Son to be crucified on the cross to redeem us? As God, he could have saved us in a different way without even a shed of blood. Jesus could have spared himself from all those wicked people asking for his head. Yet, he chose to humble himself, to suffer the ultimate form of humiliation by dying on the cross, quite different from the world’s concept of a king, a very radical form of power that is totally unacceptable to the secular world. Christ did not live his kingship in magnificent palaces, adorned with pomp and luxury. His palace was the streets of Jerusalem where the poor, the sick, the disabled, the widows were found. His throne was not that of gold, which is usually the symbol of power and authority, but rather his throne was the cross, his seat of power – the seat of love and shocking generosity. In the person of Christ the King, the world’s understanding of power and authority was turned up side down. In Jesus, power and authority assume a very different meaning and significance. Jesus’ power is liberating, not confining; it is life-giving, not life threatening.
In virtue of our baptism, we do share in the kingly office of Christ through our loving service to one another, especially to those who are disadvantaged and marginalized in many forms. In our world, where power and authority seem to be rather destructive rather than life-giving, the Gospel offers us a fresh message of hope and a new direction. We have seen in many countries how many people have died and been killed because a certain few want to retain power and control, to dominate others and use their power to oppress people rather than to serve. In our own lives, we too exercise a fair amount of power and authority, whether it is in our families or at work or probably in our community. If these things are not applicable to us, we surely have authority and power over our own selves. We surely have control over how we lead our own lives. How do we make use of that authority? Do we exercise our power and authority to serve others and to promote the good of all, or do we allow our selfish desires and personal agenda to dominate our sense of our responsibility?
Happy Feast Day of Saint Cecilia! May her life continue to inspire us to aspire for the Kingdom of God that she courageously died for, where Christ reigns in his glory. St. Cecilia, pray for us. – Fr. Cary