Year C: Thirty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
Luke 23: 35-43
The people stood by and watched; the rulers, meanwhile, sneered at him and said, “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Messiah of God.” Even the soldiers jeered at him. As they approached to offer him wine they called out, “If you are King of the Jews, save yourself.” Above him there was an inscription that read, “This is the King of the Jews.” Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.” The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Discussion Questions:
- Why do you think the Church has chosen to focus our attention on “Christ Crucified” on the feast of Christ the King?
- How does this passage challenge your understanding of how God sees power?
- When you pray “thy Kingdom come” what do you understand yourself to be praying for?
- Share a time when you have forgiven or prayed for someone while they were mistreating you, what enabled you to do that?
- Describe a time when you experienced God entering into the pain, hurt and heartache of your suffering?
Jesus’ Theology on trial
Luke 23:35-43
There is no other part of the gospels as visually suggestive and dramatically presented as the events of Jesus’ passion. Certainly, the authorities who staged it had no idea that the scene would be remembered for thousands of years. Yet Luke, like his fellow evangelists, narrated the story for the very purpose of passing it on to posterity. One of Luke’s special touches is that here, as throughout his entire Gospel, he emphasizes the lowly and the outsider. Already in the Passion Narrative we have seen Simon the African conscripted into carrying the cross and the wailing women who lined Jesus’ path to Golgotha. Then, following Mark and Matthew, Luke reports the sneering and jeering of leaders and soldiers. At the moment of Jesus’ death, Luke’s rendition comes closer to John’s than to Matthew and Mark’s. Depicting Jesus’ willful participation in the drama, Luke records his last words as the trust-filled prayer, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”
Luke’s unique contribution to the passion story comes through the two men crucified with Jesus. Luke weaves this, the third incident of taunting the crucified Jesus, into a final dramatization of the offer of salvation. As the last public response to Jesus during his lifetime, this incident sets up the stark option of acceptance or rejection of the type of kingdom Jesus made present through his life. Jesus is depicted in the weakest, most scandalous depths of his incarnation, dying as an innocent, impotent victim of evil. It is impossible to portray a more profound solidarity with the human condition.
The two criminals of the story symbolize the human plight, they represent every sinner in the world. There’s hardly a figure in history more appallingly helpless than a criminal on a cross. That someone in those circumstances could still play the part of an insolent bully staggers the imagination and yet, one of those cocrucified with Jesus used his dying breath to mock the blameless one who shared his fate. He was determined to die as he lived. This convict maintained unshaken his belief in violence, persistently and deliberately remaining a stranger to the humility of vulnerability.
The other criminal, in the defeat of his dying day, indicted himself and admitted his guilt, his mistakenness about life. Unlikely to have had any theological formation to guide him, he was still able to perceive the goodness of the man being crushed beside him. Something about Jesus, perhaps his willingness to forgive the ignorance of his persecutors, was revelatory enough to make all the difference. This criminal, alone among all the people attending the event, looked at Jesus with faith. His focus was not on himself, but on the one who was there for him.
The one we call the “good thief” understood God as the one who comes to save. The world had no more need for judgment: The guilty and the innocent had both been condemned. Absurdity and injustice seemed to reign. The only thing that could give meaning to that moment was God’s love and solidarity with the needy. In capturing that, the thief understood all he would ever need to know of Jesus. He asked to be remembered when Jesus would finally become victorious, and Jesus replied, “Today, you will be with me in Paradise.”
The church has given us a harsh and beautiful icon to contemplate on this Feast of Christ our King. When we plumb it’s meaning, it reveals that nothing overpowers the love of God. It shows the God who is with every suffering creature offering compassionate, everlasting love, the only salvation that makes a real difference. This feast invites us to meditate on Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain. In the first beatitude we hear, “Blessed are you poor, yours is the Kingdom of God.” Only when we appreciate that, will we be ready to celebrate this feast.
The Light of the Cross
Deacon Chris Anderson
I don’t know all that the cross of Christ means, but I do know that it makes psychological sense. Sooner or later, we have to face the suffering of the emptiness and apparent randomness of the world and of powerlessness before it. And until then, we can’t be healthy. That’s the paradox. Until we admit our need, we can never be happy.
And that’s what Christ did. He embraced the emptiness, so completely and lovingly he transformed it forever. To follow the path of Christ is to follow the steps of the therapeutic process. To be a Christian is to be psychologically whole. Whatever else it is, the story of Jesus is the story of the letting go and the giving up we have to do every day of our lives.
And there’s the joy. In exactly the second we realize this, at exactly the moment of letting go, a light comes flooding in. Jesus did not deem equality with God “something to be exploited” but rather “emptied himself” and became a servant, even a “slave.” And “therefore”—this key turn, this logical consequence—he is highly exalted,” and to him “every knee must bend.”
We have to die to our false selves to rise to the new.
Reflection from Give Us This Day: Deacon Chris Anderson, adapted from Light When It Comes Chris Anderson is a professor of English at Oregon State University, a poet, a retreat leader, and a Catholic deacon.