Homily for Solemnity of Christ the King

Homily for the Solemnity of
Christ the King

Nov. 24, 2019

Luke 23: 35-43
Nativity, Washington, D.C.

“Above him there was an inscription that read, ‘This is the King of the Jews’” (Luke 23: 38).

by Velasquez

We place that inscription on our crucifixes, a scroll with the initials INRI, Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” (John 19:19).  It was placed on his cross as a warning from the Roman masters of the Jews concerning what happens to those who resist Rome, and as a mockery of Jesus’ supposed pretensions—mocking both him and probably also meant as a dig at the Jewish leaders.

The irony of the mockery of the Roman and Jewish leaders is that on the cross Jesus of Nazareth really did become king, not of the Jewish people alone but of all of humanity, even all of creation.  He came to the cross because of his complete submission to his Father:  “He humbled himself,” an ancient Christian hymn sang, “becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8), and from the cross he continued that submission by forgiving those responsible for the gross injustice of his passion and execution and by imitating the boundless mercy of his Father, offering paradise (Luke 23:43) to the justly condemned criminal (Luke 23:41).

Because of his obedience “even unto death on a cross,” and because he had completely attuned his life to his Father’s will, “God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name,” that ancient Christian hymn continues, so that every human being should acclaim Jesus of Nazareth as Jesus Christ, Lord (Phil 2: 9,11).

As for that criminal, unlucky enuf to suffer the disgrace and the horror of Roman crucifixion, blessed enuf to find himself at Jesus’ side, we know absolutely nothing about him beyond what Matthew, Mark, and Luke report.  Some early Christians told stories about him, passed on to us in the apocryphal gospels—writings from the 1st and 2d centuries telling stories about Jesus’ life and teachings that the Church never accepted as authentic; so those stories, e.g., that the robber’s name was Dismas, are probably total fabrications.  Matthew and Mark call the 2 “bandits” or “robbers,” implying they were violent men.  Luke is less descriptive—they’re “wrongdoers” or “criminals.”  We commonly call this one “the good thief” because of his repentance, and some say, “He stole heaven.”  He fits what St. Paul wrote to the Christians of Colossae:  “The Father has made you fit to share in the inheritance of the holy ones in light” (Col 1:12).  God has “made him fit,” not the criminal’s own merits.

It’s also ironic that 2 of Jesus’ closest followers, James and John, had asked him for places at his right and his left when he would come into his kingdom.  He told them that those places had already been assigned to others.  We see on Golgotha who’s got those 2 places:  2 outlaws.

The Good Thief, by Titian

What’s important isn’t their names or their back stories.  What’s important is that this one wrongdoer turns to Jesus and asked to be remembered in his kingdom.  Evidently he’s not talking about an earthly kingdom, as James and John were, because he know that in a few hours both of them will be dead.  So he’s looking further, looking to the eternal kingdom where Jesus will reign, not as king of the Jews but as king of all who look to him for forgiveness and healing.  The forgiveness and hope that Jesus already offers to this wretched criminal is a sign of his royal prerogative, the power of clemency.  So Jesus reigns even from the cross.

The “good thief” is held up before us as an example of repentance.  Whatever’s in our past, we need only surrender to our Lord Jesus, king, giving into his hands our sins with a heartfelt plea, “Remember me; receive me, too, into your kingdom.”  The Father makes any of us “fit to share in the inheritance of the holy ones in light, delivering us from the power of darkness and transferring us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Col 1:12-14).

The Lord Jesus, king, has left his Church the beautiful ministry of forgiveness, of royal clemency.  In the sacrament of Reconciliation, he comes to us with his mercy, comes again to reign in our hearts and our lives.  We approach the confessional like the crucified criminal, pleading, “Jesus, remember me.”  And he does.  He forgives and promises us, too, a place with him in paradise.