A Homily for the Feast of Christ the King

+ The interrogation of Our Blessed Lord by Pontius Pilate that the Sacred Liturgy of Our Holy Mother the Church asks us to contemplate on this great feast occasions Our Lord’s response: “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.” We would not be wrong in asserting, then, that the Kingdom of God is a kingdom of truth, and that being “of the truth” is to be considered fundamental to being part of it.

This, of course, begs the question “What is truth?”—which is the very question with which Pilare responded to these words of Our Lord (but which were curiously not included in this Gospel reading when this feast was introduced almost 100 years ago). But let us allow Pontius Pilate to help us, for his skeptical retort fits very well on the lips of our contemporaries. Were any of us to speak of the Kingdom of God as a kingdom of truth, his question would resound anew, for conformity to the truth is no longer sought in a world of expedient consumerism where comfort, power and utility are what is sought above all.

Indeed, the very concept of truth, philosophically speaking—of something being in accord with reality, with the facts, with what actually is or was—is frequently denied in our times. How often do we hear the assertion that “Your truth is not the same as my truth,” or that “What is true for you is not the same as what is true for me,” betraying a subjectivism and relativism that makes gods of us all, gods who are capable of creating our own universe with its attendant realities, as easily as we may choose to decorate or redecorate a house, an apartment or a room.

This is, of course, philosophical nonsense and intellectual, moral and social suicide. If we cannot assert that something is true (or false) and is (or is not) in accord with reality, with the facts, with what actually is or was, then we have a situation and indeed a society in which we may think and live as we wish, in which we can do and get away with as much we want as possible, and in which we can happily deny for as long as possible that most inconvenient truth: that one day, even if we ‘win’ the game of life and manage to live it comfortably and enjoy as many of its pleasures as possible, our life shall nevertheless end in our death. So too, this results in a society which turns a blind eye towards those who are less fortunate and have no power or influence, disposing of them (or at least marginalising them) at will—beginning with unwanted unborn children but increasingly with the inconvenient elderly or those who are seriously ill. The truths that every human person is created in the image and likeness of God (cf. Gen. 1:26) and that innocent life must be respected and protected from the moment of conception until the moment of natural death are frequently found to be inconvenient in the demands they make of us and are therefore ignored. The truths about the nature of human sexuality and of marriage are equally relativised in our times: we can, seemingly, (re)create our own gender identity at will and enter into (almost) any form of relationship we choose for as long or as short a period as we find convenient regardless of the consequences.

It is to this fractured world, today, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, that Our Lord speaks this morning, insisting that: “For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice,” inviting all to listen, to hear, to encounter and to convert to He who is Himself “the Way, the Truth and the Life.” (Jn 14:6) For we are privileged to know what Pilate could not see: Truth Incarnate was standing in front of him. Pilate should perhaps have asked: “Who is truth?”—for He was standing before his very eyes.

This is an incredibly big claim. Our American friends would describe it as “awesome”—and truly it is (in the real meaning of that word in English). That Jesus of Nazareth, born of the Virgin Mary and crucified under Pontius Pilate is the Christ of God, that He is the revelation of objective reality in human history, that His teachings, His Way, show us what actually is right and what is wrong, what will give us life that death cannot end, and what will lead us to eternal damnation and death, is truly awe-inspiring. It should fill us with that holy fear of God which does not reduce us to psychotic wrecks, but which humbles us sufficiently to turn our lives around however that may be necessary so as to be able to hear His voice to and live in and from the truth of which He is the Incarnation, as members of His Kingdom which shall have no end.

Thanks to a generous benefaction, our altar is graced by the presence of the relics of Kings St Richard (†720) and St Edward the Martyr (†978) of England, St Stephen of Hungary (†1038), St Ferdinand of Castile (†1252) and the most Christian St Louis of France (†1270). They exchanged their worldly crowns for the crown of eternal life by listening to His voice. The same crown is offered to each of us—be we pauper or prelate—if only we humble ourselves as did these holy kings, to serve the Truth revealed by Christ and faithfully taught by His Church. For that grace, and for perseverance in it unto the end, let us ask their intercession at the Altar of God this morning. + ​