With the predawn opening of America’s department stores on Black Friday we have entered (willingly or not) into the frenzy of the secular holiday. We are now officially awash in the sights and sounds of the season and we are told to buy, buy, buy … not only is it good for the economy but it is also an act of patriotism!

In the Feast of Christ the King, our Church throws us a lifeline to hold onto and to help us go deeper in order to find “the true reason for the season”. This Sunday we remember and reflect on who Jesus Christ is and what his birth means for us and for all of history. This Feast allows us to skip forward to the “last chapter” of the book – as it were – before we enter into the opening pages of Advent.

Christ is King – but in what does his kingship consists and how is it achieved? The kingship of Christ consists not in worldly might and the ability to impose one’s will and dominate (attested to by both Scripture and Tradition) but rather in the ability to reconcile and to make peace. Christ holds together. He heals that which has been fractured by sin. This is truly the work of God alone. The hymn found in The Letter to the Colossians proclaims, “For in Christ all the fullness was pleased to dwell and through him to reconcile all things for him, making peace by the blood of his cross through him…”. Christ the King makes peace. Christ heals that which is fractured both individually in our hearts and universally in our world and all creation.

How is this achieved? Here we are confronted with nothing less than the mystery and the paradox of the cross. At this moment, a quote from Thomas Merton might be an aid as we contemplate the work of Christ the King on the cross.

Hanging there on the cross (being jeered at and mocked by all around him) Christ the King is “doing” the work of peace and of reconciliation, not by the imposition of his will but by the very rightness, the very truth of the work itself – the rightness of the giving of himself and the truth of obedience to the Father’s will. Here alone is where peace is found and where the work of peace is built and achieved.

We always pray for peace during this time of year. We pray for it, we yearn for it, we even sing songs testifying to our desire for peace. In all this our Christian faith says “yes” it is right to pray for peace but also it is right to work to build true peace. Here though (our faith also wisely cautions) let our work be true and let our action be informed by the full revelation of Christ – peace is not built through the power of an action and the imposition of will but through right action – doing something because it is the right thing to do – no matter how small, seemingly insignificant and maybe even disparaged and mocked. Christ the King – “making peace by the blood of his cross” – teaches us that peace (both in our hearts and in the world) can only be built through the rightness and the truth of the work itself.

“While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, ‘All that you see here – the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” (Lk. 21:5-6)

When we approach this passage of Luke’s gospel with a thought to the final days we tend to do so with an interpretation that is “writ large” I believe. All the great structures of humankind – we reflect – from the Temple in Jerusalem to the Taj Mahal to the Eiffel Tower to the latest skyscraper of capitalism will be torn down, will crumble before the approach of God. All the great accomplishments of humankind – as many and as varied as they are – are as dust before God and his Kingdom. In other words, look to what is happening without (most notably in the big events of the day’s news) in order to see the approach of God’s Kingdom, to predict the “End Times” and therefore to best be ready.

I wonder though if Jesus’ summons to be vigilant for the coming of the Kingdom might not be so much one of prediction and looking without to the “big” events of the world as more of a call of preparation and looking within – in humility and in truth. Through my relationship with Jesus, is the Kingdom being born within my life? Is the Kingdom witnessed to by my life and my actions? With this turn within we are led to ask what are those “costly stones and votive offerings” that we cling to in our lives – those attitudes and objects that we want to think offer protection, security and a sense of forever but which, in fact, really offer nothing in the end but imprisoning walls?

Here, the Litany of Humility prayed each week by Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity might help open our eyes to the “costly stones and votive offerings” of our own lives.

From the desire of being esteemed,
From the desire of being loved,
From the desire of being extolled,
From the desire of being honored,
From the desire of being praised,
From the desire of being preferred,
From the desire of being approved,
From the desire of being consulted,

Deliver me, O Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated,
From the fear of being despised,
From the fear of suffering rebukes,
From the fear of being calumniated,
From the fear of being forgotten,
From the fear of being wronged,
From the fear of being ridiculed,
From the fear of being suspected,

Deliver me, O Jesus.

Deliver us, O Lord, from our own costly stones and votive offerings – all those objects and attitudes that seek to stand in the way and prohibit the inbreaking of your Kingdom, your light and your truth into our lives! Lord, throw down the stones of these walls in order that your Kingdom and its life will grow within our hearts! The “stone not left on another stone” in the life of the disciple is a testament not of woe and doom but of the emergence of true life. As we grow in the Kingdom we learn to value less all those costly stones and votive offerings of our lives that we can so readily cling to.

We best ready ourselves for the coming of the Lord by looking within in a spirit of humble preparation and welcome and not by looking without in a false spirit of prediction.

A few weeks ago in Naples, Italy Pope Benedict XVI gathered with representatives from the world’s major religions (Christian and non-Christian) in order to dialogue and prayer for peace in our world. At the end of the gathering the religions gathered signed a joint “Peace Appeal”. Below is a copy of the Appeal. It is worth reading and reflection. This annual gathering is coordinated by the Community of Sant’Egidio. If you want to add your own name to the Appeal – which I have – you can go to http://www.santegidio.org/ and click on the “Peace Appeal”. “Never can evil and violence be justified by invoking the name of God.” (Pope Benedict XVI). Pray for peace!

Men and women of different religions, from many parts of the world, we have gathered here in Naples to forge bonds of brotherhood, and call to God for the great gift of peace. The name of God is peace.

In the heart of the Mediterranean Sea and in this extraordinary city, which is well acquainted with poverty and greatness of heart, we stooped down upon the wounds of the world. There is an illness that pollutes every thing and its name is violence. Violence is the grim daily companion of too many men and women on our planet. Violence becomes war, terrorism, poverty and despair, exploitation of our planet. It is fuelled by contempt, it stuns people with hatred, it kills hope and sows fear, it strikes down the innocent, and debases humanity. Violence seduces the hearts of human beings and tells them, “nothing can change”. This pessimism makes people believe that living together is impossible.

From Naples we can say, stronger than before, that anyone who uses the name of God to hate the other, to practice violence, or to wage war, is cursing the name of God.

As Benedict XVI told us, “Never can evil and violence be justified by invoking the name of God”.

We focused on our diverse religious traditions, we heard the sorrow of the South of the World, and we felt the burden of pessimism rising from the 20th century with its weight of war and shattered illusions. We need the strength that comes from the spirit of love, which helps rebuild and mend the unity of humankind. The power of the spirit changes the hearts of men and women and transforms history.

In the depths of our religious traditions we have discovered that a world without dialogue is a world without hope, where people are fated to fear each other. Dialogue does not cancel differences. Dialogue enriches life and dispels pessimism that makes one see the other as a threat. Dialogue is not the illusion of the weak, it is the wisdom of the strong, who rely on the weak power of prayer. And prayer changes the world and the destiny of humankind. Dialogue weakens no-one’s identity, and it encourages everyone to see the best in the other. Nothing is lost with dialogue, everything is possible through dialogue.

To those who still kill, to those who still sow terrorism and wage war in the name of God, we say: “Stop! Do not kill! Violence is always a defeat”.

We commit ourselves to learn the art of living together and to offer it to our fellow believers. There is no alternative to the unity of the human family. We need brave builders, in all cultures, and in all religious traditions. We need the globalization of the spirit, which reveals to us what we no longer see: the beauty of life and of the other, in all circumstances, even the hardest.Our religious traditions teach us that prayer is an active power in history, and it moves peoples and nations. Humbly, we offer this ancient wisdom to the service of all peoples, of every man and every woman, to open a new era of freedom from fear and contempt for the other. It is the spirit of Assisi, and here, from Naples, full of courage and strength, it challenges violence and any abuse of religion as a pretext for violence.

Following in this path, confident that peace can be a gift to the whole world, we commit ourselves to the Most High.

Naples, 23 October 2007

The well known story of Zacchaeus, the diminutive tax collector, (Lk. 19:1-10) reveals to us the two movements of salvation.

Throughout the gospels, the “good news” of Jesus Christ, we find Jesus coming to meet us where we are at. This, I believe, is the lived reality of the canticle of descent found in the second chapter of the Letter to the Philippians. Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, emptied himself and took the form of a slave not just in the lowliness of the incarnation nor just in the pain and suffering of the crucifixion and death but also throughout his life and ministry. Jesus’ words to the tree perched tax collector are worthy of note here. “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” It is the slave, the obedient servant, who must do something. Jesus is continually obedient to the will of the Father and his direction in his life and this leads the Lord to meet us where we are at. To listen to Luke’s account, one could say that it even impels him. Jesus is led to meet us even in our sin, even in our forsakenness. This is the first movement – God seeks us out, God comes to meet us where we are at.

The second movement is our response. Yes, Jesus comes to meet us where we are at but he does not intend for us to stay there. Visited by God, we must now respond in kind (as much as a creature to its Maker can). Zacchaeus stands his ground against the criticism of the crowd. “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.” Our shall responds to Jesus’ must. There is a deep irony in this which raises the worthwhile reflection of “in what true freedom consists”. Here, I propose that the more one welcomes Jesus; the more our limited shall begins to share in the very must of Jesus (the obedient servant) and, further, the more one discovers true freedom.

Responding to this welcome of Zacchaeus and his response of shall, Jesus says, “Today salvation has come to this house … For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.”

Salvation comes in two movements – God seeking and our responding, God’s must and our shall.