Christ the King, 2024

An absolute ruler, living somewhere far away, exercising control throughout his lands and territories, sending out dictates and such. 

In every respect, a king seems un-American. 

Perhaps it is the notion of lineage. A man becomes king not on the merit of his virtue, military service, or general appeal to voters; rather, he wins the genetic lotto and one day ascends the throne. Perhaps it is the undemocratic nature of a monarchy. Or maybe it is something else. Nonetheless, kings and America have mixed well since 1776.

All that being said, it is interesting to think about Americans’ fascination with the Netflix series ‘The Crown’. Maybe it is because the British monarchy is so foreign to us, so different to the everyday experience of our liberty-loving citizenry. No question, the acting, costumes, and scenery are all superb. (Claire Foy and Olivia Colman are incredible as Queen Elizabeth, and Matt Smith and Jonathan Pryce are just as good in their portrayals of Prince Philip.) But maybe there is something deeper going that strikes a chord with the viewer. Maybe there is something about a king or queen that speaks to us. Maybe, deep down, some of us want a king.

An absolute, wise ruler—someone whose dictates are, if rightly ordered, good for us—might be what our postmodern, secular world yearns for. Maybe it is that those who have been adversely affected by the contemporary malaise could do with being ruled—rightly, of course—by a king who knows what is right for his subjects. 

(Ask those young people who have fallen victim to identity-making, that most burdensome work of contemporary culture, and they will tell you how taxing it is.)

This Sunday’s Solemnity is an opportunity to acknowledge and celebrate Jesus Christ as King of the Universe. It is a day that, on the one hand, ends the liturgical year, while on the other raises our minds to consider the reality that Jesus Christ is both savior and King.

As King of the Universe, the entire cosmos belongs to Christ’s rule and authority. All the territories of the cosmos, all the stars, all the creatures on earth (and if any life exists elsewhere)—all of it belongs to Him. 

In Quas Primas, Pope Pius XI’s encyclical dealing with the Feast of Christ the King, he quotes St. Cyril of Alexandria. “Christ has dominion over all creatures,” St. Cyril writes, “a dominion not seized by violence nor usurped, but his by essence and by nature.” 

Christ’s dominance as King is not, as St. Cyril notes, a dominance of violence, or of usurped political power. We often think of power in terms of politics. That is not the case with Christ. Christ’s power is His salvific love, extending throughout the universe, holding us in being at every moment, and loving us into existence, every moment of everyday. 

In Christ’s kingdom, we are not indentured servants or slaves. We are free men, and our freedom increases insofar as we allow ourselves to be ruled by Him. 

Christ’s power is His grace, a power extended to us at every moment, one that we are capable of cooperating with. How many people could say they were direct cooperators with a King? Not many, I imagine. But us? We are just that.

At every Catholic Church throughout the world, the altar stands as Christ’s royal dais. There is a seat for us there, and we are invited to consume this Royal King. 

In Christ and St. Benedict,

Darryl De Marzio

Executive Director, Portsmouth Institute for Faith and Culture