Reflections on the Feast of Christ the King...

I know, I’m Maronite. In my rite, today is not the Feast of Christ the King. However, beautiful weather dictates I sit by my pool and work on my tan. This meant early morning Roman rite mass. But, before I apply my tanning oil, I’m in my office writing this.

Reason being? Well, I felt inspired.

First I’ll tell you where the feast came from, then I’ll tell you why I was shocked in the best-kinda-Catholic-way when I heard the gospel reading.

Pope Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King in his 1925 encyclical letter Quas Primas. The title of the feast was "D. N. Jesu Christi Regis" (Our Lord Jesus Christ the King). Pope Paul VI gave the celebration a new title: "D. N. Iesu Christi universorum Regis" (Our Lord Jesus Christ King of the Universe). He also gave it a new date: the last Sunday in the liturgical year, before a new year begins with the First Sunday in Advent and assigned to it the highest rank, that of "Solemnity".

Why did Pius XI institute this feast? He wanted it to impact the laity.
"… If to Christ our Lord is given all power in heaven and on earth; if all men, purchased by his precious blood, are by a new right subjected to his dominion; if this power embraces all men, it must be clear that not one of our faculties is exempt from his empire. He must reign in our minds, which should assent with perfect submission and firm belief to revealed truths and to the doctrines of Christ. He must reign in our wills, which should obey the laws and precepts of God. He must reign in our hearts, which should spurn natural desires and love God above all things, and cleave to him alone. He must reign in our bodies and in our members, which should serve as instruments for the interior sanctification of our souls, or to use the words of the Apostle Paul, as instruments of justice unto God." ?

- Quas Primas (Pius XI)

He rules our minds, our wills, our hearts, our bodies. He is Christ the King. So what was the gospel reading today?

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,  I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ 

- Matthew 25:41-45

I love the Church. He is the King, but on the feast that commemorates His kingship, when we’re meant to reflect on Him reigning our hearts, wills, minds and bodies, we speak of him as a vulnerable servant. WEIRD…

Contrary to what the world thinks, His being a servant is what makes Him the ultimate King. 

Why? Christ did not come to glorify the flesh but the spirit. He did not live a life of riches, but because of this – because, and not in spite of it – His life was one of distinction. What did the world see? His palace was an inn, later a simple home in Nazareth. His birth was celebrated only by shepherds and animals. He was born in the feeding trough of donkeys and sheep. His Mother was a young girl of no notable birth. He didn’t dine with royalty, but tax collectors. His own people hated Him. His crown? Thorns. His vestments? Sackcloth. The only scarlet cloak He wore was given to Him in mockery then savagely torn from Him in His passion. His followers were mere fishermen and merchants, and yet even they betrayed him.

What does Heaven see? His palace is in the hearts of those who love Him. His birth was celebrated by shepherds and animals, as well as all the hosts of Heaven. It was foretold for thousands of years by the prophets. The angels sang endless chants of “Hallelujah!” This was the long awaited Messiah. He was born in the feeding trough of donkeys and sheep, to foretell His new temple: our feeding trough, the tabernacle. His Queen Mother was a virgin, born without sin – God’s greatest creation. He dined and came for those who needed to be saved. He came to call sinners! And for these sinners, he wore a crown of thorns and endured hatred, and eventually His passion. The world could not take away His kingship, because Christ’s kingdom is not of this world. "My kingdom is not of this world… but now my kingdom is from another place" (John 18:36).

His kingdom is not temporal. It is spiritual. His Kingdom cannot be overcome by its enemies, the enemies of love. Christ’s kingdom is in our hearts. We see his spiritual Kingdom in the hearts of those around us, and know that we reflect a microcosm of Heaven in the Church, made up of us – living stones.

THIS IS THE TRUE KINGDOM.

God: the not-so-cruel comedian…

God doesn’t just laugh at your plans, He discards them.

We tell God our plans, our deepest desires and deepest dreams. We share our disappointments and sorrows and ask Him – “why?” We cry and call out desperately to a God who we think forgets us. Psalm 63 expresses our feelings of abandonment: “my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you.” We think He is distant, that He wants us to realise our own strength.

How wrong we are.

We are being stalked by the love of God. When we read in Psalms 23:6 “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,” what we are actually reading is “God is hunting us down to give us His gifts, and not because we deserve them!” Following is a subtle, submissive action, but the Hebrew word King David used for ‘follow’ here is the same word as ‘stalk,’ or ‘hunt down.’ Nothing subtle about it!

God is love. He is who made our hearts and who our hearts were made for. He is everything we need. God loves us so much He couldn’t stand to just be an observer of our lives. God doesn’t sit back! He walked with Adam. He talked with Moses. He became a man, to share our humanity and give us His divinity. He suffered that we may understand just how much He loved us. “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son…” What this is actually saying is “God loved the world *like so*.” It is not simply a declaration of how much He loved us, but more HOW He loved us.

Then, He left the Earth and wasn’t content to simply be a God who was among us when He was incarnated. He is now within us. Every time we consume Him in the Eucharist, His adorable blood pulses through our veins. Does that scare you a little? Good. God likes to get personal, especially when we don’t deserve it.

We read in Stephen Chbosky’s ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ that “we accept the love we think we deserve.” Yes. Yes, we do. This is the exact reason why God disregards our plans. We accept the love we think we deserve, but He knows what we deserve. He laughs at our dreams for ourselves and says ‘is that it? Just wait – wait and see what I have planned for you!’ His plans are unimaginable, inexplicable. They make our wildest human reveries look like fairy tales written by Ebenezer Scrooge.

Why? Because only He that made you knows you and knows your value. He knows what will make you happy, if only you put your life in His hands and allow Him to show you the way: and more than that, to have the courage to do what He wants, not what will merely keep you in your comfort zone.

We are not ‘stuck’ where we are at the moment. We are not here by coincidence or as a part of some cruel divine comedy God designed for His own entertainment. Our situation now is meant to prepare us for the place God wants to bring us into tomorrow. Trusting His plan is not contingent on understanding it!

See, as impatient as we are, God’s timing is not ours. He doesn’t operate on our schedule or when His plans suit us. His way is infinitely greater. He is never too early and never too late.

Maybe some of you can relate to this: I know sometimes in my life, I give God my struggles. I tell Him I want to trust Him, and to accept that I’m trying. I tell Him that at least for now, trying to trust him completely has to be enough until I can let go. Not long after this (often dramatic) resolution and promise, I get impatient. I tell God He’s too slow. He isn’t fixing it the way I want Him to. *He* isn’t enough. I snatch back my baggage only to hand it back not long after, when I realise how weak I am. On my own I am powerless, because I don’t rely on the grace from He whose “power is made perfect in weakness.” Then I pray for perseverance and the cycle starts over. Soon comes discouragement.

I’m learning - let go, let God. How can he fix me if I never relinquish control???

I am trying, as we all are. For encouragement, allow me to channel JPII: “you are not who they say you are, let me remind you who you are.”

We are children of the King, the ultimate Father who denies His children no good gift. Our King is not moved by the world. He walks with us. He knows our every step and, as we walk, He lays down the gifts of grace along our path. Have no fear, we are His. Maybe one day, in Heaven, we will join with St. Augustine in telling Our Lord: “You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me… I burned for your peace.”

Yahweh promised His bride Israel, as Jesus promised His Bride, the Church (us!): “… I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” We spoke of Psalm 63 putting into words how neglected we often feel. The psalmist later reassures us in the same stanza: “you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”

If that’s not enough, nothing will ever be. 

... Jesus, I (want to!) trust in you.

The pressure to die, and why we want to institutionalise it…

I’ve read a few articles the past couple weeks about the death of Brittany Maynard, who took her own life in order to escape her suffering. She had terminal brain cancer.

Let me start off by saying I pray God has mercy on her through the merits of His son, who loved Brittany so much he died for her. I pray we meet one day in the land of no pain and no goodbyes.

Some of these articles have been great, some have missed the point, and others have been so far off they have condoned her ‘taking control of her own life.’ How does one take control of something that they completely give up on?

Taking control of your life is about MASTERING, not escaping suffering. Far be it from whiney-old-me to judge how much pain she’s in (I get a headache and demand all but morphine cos I’m ‘dying’), but I don’t see what is glorious about condoning one euthanising themselves and escaping an opportunity to show the world just *how precious* life is. I am not judging her, for all I know she was in so much pain that she wasn’t thinking straight. This post isn’t about judging her, it is about condemning the ideology that if one wants to kill themselves, we should allow and even legalise it.

Yes, it’s easier to say these things from where I’m sitting, an over-cynical, conservative keyboard warrior, but let’s look at euthanasia objectively.

Forget the fact that we are made in the image and likeness of God and our lives are a gift. Forget that suffering is not the worst thing that can happen to us (I won’t mention that I once heard it said that “suffering for God is the only joy Heaven does not have.”) Forget that suffering is salvific, forget – for goodness’ sake, if we must – that Jesus Christ Himself suffered unimaginably, an innocent man, in order to show us how to suffer and to show us that when we struggle, He is there with us. Please, let’s not bring up that out of that suffering, out of the greatest act of Evil ever committed, came our salvation – the greatest good.

Forget all the “God stuff.” It’s great, but I don’t think it is essential to the euthanasia debate. I believe all moral issues can be argued simply using logic. In other words, you don’t have to be a Christian to believe euthanasia is wrong.

We’ve decided to forget the “God stuff” here. If I may, let’s forget the ‘slippery slope’ too. Let’s forget that in countries where euthanasia has been legalised there is a push for children as young as 8 or 12 to decide whether they want to live or die. Seems like a decision a pre-pubescent only-just-reached-the-age-of-reason child can make, right? Let’s not mention that where the euthanasia movement is strong, there has been a greater push for eugenics, where *we* decide what kind of people should live or die or even be conceived in the first place.

Let’s talk about what euthanasia is not: euthanasia is not compassion; it is a way for us to tell people they are a burden. They are no longer ‘powerful,’ as the euthanasia advocates wish to have us believe, they are useless and weak. They are ‘dragging us all down with them.’ Euthanasia is an attack on the vulnerable, plain and simple. Healthy ‘strong’ people are not at risk, only the most needy, fragile and defenceless are. Those that need protection and nurturing will simply be told “if you want, you don’t have to do this anymore.” Then, we are bombarded by statistics about how much money we would save if we didn’t have to look after the disabled or the elderly. What a sad world we live in. Even the Neanderthals had enough humanity in them to care for people and not simply leave them behind when we decide they are too burdensome.

A poll taken in the Netherlands in 2010 found that almost all of those living in nursing homes opposed euthanasia. Is this a shock? It shouldn’t be. They have a lot to fear. What’s to stop a frustrated relative or nurse convincing somebody they consider so burdensome they have the audacity to *live* they are no longer needed? What is to stop one of these victims submitting in what is nothing but a moment of weakness? Further, in countries where it has been legalised, countless cases of euthanasia occurring without the consent or request of patients should be enough evidence that this is a force for evil.

Why should somebody be forced to justify their own existence, especially at the most vulnerable time of their life? Rather than looking after one another, we are feigning compassion by telling people their life is no longer worth living.

C. Everett Koop, former surgeon general of the United States, brings up another point of note:  “It is very easy to slip into moral deception in a discussion of euthanasia… Euthanasia opens up the opportunities at this early stage of the game for almost inconceivable fraud, deception, and deceit. Think of the burdensome elderly people, economically burdensome, whose rapid demise could be looked upon as an economic blessing for their family. Think of the temptation to hasten a legacy. Think of how easy, when there are ulterior motives, to emphasize the surcease from suffering and anxiety that comes with painless death.”

People speak of a ‘right to die,’ but what about the ‘right not to be pressured to die?’ What about the right not to have it suggested to you that we would all be better off, that life would be easier without you? The "right to die" becomes an expectation to die, then a duty to die, then euthanasia - outright murder. Legalising euthanasia results in institutionalising the idea that a person’s existence has pros and cons. The will to live is human; it is a sign of that divine spark in all of us that makes us fight for good, for progress. To annihilate that would be catastrophic in more ways than we can imagine.

Who knows though? Maybe Brittany’s decision will spark a debate. Maybe the good that’ll come out of this evil is that people will talk about the issue enough to realise that life is always worth living.

I had to refrain from mentioning that to know 

of your impending death is a gift. 

One can only pray for the opportunity to die in a state of grace.