Christ the King - Homily 3

Homily 3 - 2013

Luke has presented a confronting scenario, and in the process has held up a mirror with which we can look more closely at ourselves.

The leaders jeered at him.  They were the religious establishment, the professionals well versed in determining right from wrong – not all that different from us who know our Scriptures, our catechism, what is a sin and what is not.  It reminds me of that incident in the creation story, where the serpent tempted our first parents: “You will be like gods, knowing good and evil”.  Would not knowing good and evil be a good thing, rather than a temptation?  Yet knowing good and evil sets us up to judge, to judge others – and to find them wanting.  The surer we are of our orthodoxy, the more dangerous we become.

The soldiers who had crucified Jesus were the same ones who then mocked him.  They were agents of the Roman Empire, an empire that prided itself on the peace it had brought the world, based firmly on its sense of justice and its ability to ensure law and order by means of its military might.  Yet, perhaps, those with power are not so good at discerning justice.  When you can virtually do what you want, justice too easily becomes what is good for you, or for your national interest.  Perhaps those under oppression, the ones who are victims of another’s power, are the ones most likely to perceive the requirements of true justice.

Yet even victims can get it wrong.  The two criminals hanging next to Jesus had questioned Rome’s justice.  Underdogs can be misled.  They can too easily seek to be top dogs, to change places; the oppressed become oppressors.  Since crucifixion was the penalty for revolt, both criminals crucified with Jesus had probably responded to Rome’s oppression with acts of terrorism, trying to overcome violence with violence.

Yet, exposure to the innocent, non-vindictive Jesus had evidently done something to one of the criminals – who began to see things differently.  “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  His request came from not only total powerlessness but total emptiness – he had no time to change his ways, to make up for his former hatred and violence.  Yet Jesus said to him: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

Also present were the people watching Jesus, the crowd who had peacefully gathered to watch criminals getting what they no doubt deserved, and dying a tortured, dehumanising death.  What was going on inside that crowd?  Self-esteem can be bolstered by having others to look down on, to feel superior to, and to be more deserving than.  Likewise, the sense of belonging and social harmony can be safe-guarded by defining individuals or groups as undeserving and undesirable, by scapegoating them and excluding them from the inner-group.

Jesus, the human revelation of God, can handle sin; he can move beyond what is right and what is wrong. He can freely and unconditionally forgive.  But he cannot forgive those who see no need for forgiveness, who quietly congratulate themselves on their superior knowledge, their self-determined sense of justice, and their place on the moral high-ground.  Perhaps our hope lies in contemplating Jesus – the victim of the world’s violence.  After his resurrection he still bore the wounds in his hands and feet.  His kingship, confirmed by his Resurrection, was not a case of underdog becoming top dog – as disciples would sometimes like it to be.  It is nice, after all, to feel on the winning side.

What then, if not that?  Being disciples of this King is more a factor of breaking free from the addictive need to be better than, learning sensitivity to true justice by standing with those who are oppressed, letting go of the lie that violence can eliminate violence, and discovering a self-esteem that is nourished, not from feeling superior to others and excluding them, but from discovering the wonderful love that God has for us all.