Christ the King - Walking with a Person of Hope

Solemnity of Christ the King: November 23, 2025

Readings: 2 Samuel 5:1–3; Psalm 122:1–5; Colossians 1:12–20; Luke 23:35–43

To listen to my audio-video reflections via YouTube, please click here: https://youtu.be/LafZGRdNUAo

As most of us are born and brought up in democratic countries, the word "King" is a bit alien to us. Moreover, a good number of us may not like to have so-called "kings" on earth. Having studied history in schools and colleges, we have seen what kings did in their lives. Somebody put it so wisely: "Absolute power corrupts absolutely." Most of the kings have been nasty and hypocritical, enjoying the wealth of the people. St Ignatius of Loyola gives us two well-noted meditations in his Spiritual Exercises: 1. Two Standards, 2. Kingdom Exercise comprises the earthly king and heavenly king, where he depicts the heavenly king as the most perfect one that Christians must emulate in their life. As the liturgical year draws to its close, the Church invites us to look at Jesus, our King. He reigns in a way the world could never imagine.

1. Christ the King - A man for all seasons

The scripture is full of mentions of kings. The great kings David and Solomon steal the show in the Bible. Even God is likened to a King or the King of glory. In the New Testament, we see people's desire to see in Jesus a king who would deliver them from the clutches of Roman rule. However, the Gospel does not show us a triumphant ruler surrounded by glory; it shows us a silent, wounded Jesus, whose kingship is revealed not in splendour but in surrender, not in power but in love. And perhaps this is exactly where the year must end: at the foot of the Cross, where everything is stripped away except love.

Fascinatingly, Jesus does not reign from a throne; He reigns from the Cross. And yet, this is precisely the place where God’s heart is most clearly revealed. For at the Cross, Jesus allows Himself to be utterly vulnerable, utterly available. He refuses to save Himself so that He may save us. He does not defend His dignity because His dignity is love. He does not shield Himself from suffering because He chooses to stand with every person who suffers. A King who refuses to come down from the Cross is a King who will never abandon His people. Such a King is worthy of our hearts.

2. Being merciful even at the crucial moment of life

The Gospel reading of today Luke 23:35–43 recalls Jesus on the Cross, hanging between the thieves. As the passage calls “good thief,” a man who has nothing to offer—no virtue, no achievement, no reputation worth saving yet, he sees something in Jesus that others fail to see in him. Strangely, he has mercy towards Jesus. The thief sees a King whose kingdom is not built on fear but on forgiveness. And he makes the most beautiful prayer a sinner can make: “Jesus, remember me.” He does not ask for rewards, or rescue, or explanations. He simply asks not to be forgotten. The answer of Jesus is straightforward: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

3. Ending the Liturgical year with hope

And now, as we stand at the threshold of Advent, this scene becomes even more precious. Advent invites us to wait for a King who comes in gentleness, who enters our world the way He enters our suffering—quietly, tenderly, without forcing His way. Advent is the season of expectation, but today’s feast tells us what we are expecting: not a distant ruler, but a compassionate King; not a judge who condemns, but a Saviour who remembers; not a monarch who demands allegiance, but a Love who waits to be welcomed.

Christ the King closes the liturgical year not with finality, but with fulfilment. The Cross gathers everything we have lived this year—our failures, our joys, our weariness, our hopes—and places them in the hands of a King whose heart breaks open for His people. And Advent begins by opening that same heart again, this time in a manger. The wood of the Cross and the wood of the crib meet, and in both places the same truth is spoken: God chooses us.

Questions for self-reflection

1. Where do I still live as though I belong to the “power of darkness”?
2. Are there patterns, fears, or wounds that keep me from fully entering the kingdom of the Beloved Son?
3. Do I recognize Christ’s presence in the humble, hidden places of my life—the places where He prefers to enter with tenderness rather than glory?

Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ, You are the image of the Father’s heart and the One through whom all things were created. In you, everything finds its place, everything is held together, everything is reconciled. As this liturgical year comes to an end, I place myself before You with trust. Heal what is fragile within me, forgive what weighs me down, and renew whatever is yearning for a fresh beginning. As I prepare to enter the season of Advent, awaken in me a deeper desire for You. Stay with me, Jesus, hold my life in Your hands, and lead me into the fullness of Your peace, now and always. I make this prayer in Jesus' Holy Name, Amen.

- Fr Olvin Veigas, SJ

20 November 2025

E-mail: olvinveigas@jesuits.net

Blog: Celebrate Faith

Video: YouTube

Labouring for Eternity

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time: November 16, 2025

Readings: Malachi 3:19–20; Psalm 98:5–9; 2 Thessalonians 3:7–12; Luke 21:5–19

To listen to my audio-video reflections via YouTube, please click here: https://youtu.be/dyAV341UTW8

We love to see and admire great and grand things. Our fascination with such things is natural and real as we are blessed with a capacity to enjoy such beautiful things. Unfortunately, the so-called great and beautiful things are also time-bound. They do not last for eternity. There is nothing in this world that we can claim will last forever. They are short-lived, just like our lives. They are created by someone. Therefore, having an awareness of uncertainty and limitedness is good for us so that we do not land in a world of despair and unhappiness when the end comes unexpectedly. We must be ready for anything and everything that would occur in our lives. Only then will we be content to know that there is also life beyond the earthly things. As we inch closer to Advent, the liturgical readings are becoming poignantly clear that we must rely on God and God alone.

1. Built by human hands has an end!

In today’s Gospel Luke 21:5–19, Jesus stands before the grandeur of the Temple in Jerusalem — its stones gleaming in the sunlight, its beauty admired by all. It is the second temple built by the decree of King Cyrus, the king of Syria, a non-Jew, around 546 BC (cf. Ezra 1:1–4). However, the construction began later and was completed under Darius I in 515 BC (cf. Ezra 6:15). The First Temple, built by King Solomon, had been destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar II, the King of Babylon, in 587/586 BC during the Babylonian captivity. Thus, the Second Temple became the center of Jewish faith and identity — a visible sign that they were once again the people of Yahweh, the chosen race. Later, it was magnificently expanded and renovated by King Herod the Great beginning around 20 BC, and this is the temple Jesus refers to in today’s Gospel.

You are God’s building - Preserving Our Sacred Spaces

32nd Ordinary Sunday - The Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome: November 09, 2025

Readings: Ezekiel 47:1–2, 8–9, 12; Psalms  46:2–3, 5–6, 8–9; 1 Corinthians 3:9–11, 16–17; John 2:13–22

To listen to my audio-video reflections via YouTube, please click here: https://youtu.be/2Kt-T5qpUBM

How wonderful it is to know that we are all God's beautiful mansions! As God's magnificent creations, we have a place for God in our lives. It is God who makes us dwell in Him. There is nothing that can separate the creator from its creation. Just like an artist makes a beautiful painting, even if someone buys that artwork, it still is the creation of the artist, and every detail in it is the imagination of that artist and not of that buyer. On this day, the Church celebrates the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome, a mother Church for all the other Churches. It invites us to look beyond the stones and grandeur of any Church building to what it truly represents — the living, breathing presence of God among His people. The Lateran Basilica, the cathedral of the Pope as Bishop of Rome, stands as a symbol of unity, the mother and head of all churches in the world. Yet, in celebrating its dedication, we are called not only to honour a structure but to renew our awareness that we ourselves are temples of the living God. The liturgical readings on this day invite us to do just that. 

1. A Stronger Zeal for God's Work

In the Gospel John 2:13–22, Jesus enters the temple in Jerusalem and finds it turned into a market. His reaction is bewildering: He drives out the merchants, overturns tables, and commands, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” (v.16). This dramatic moment is not about anger alone — it is about zeal. Zeal for God’s house, zeal for the purity of worship, zeal for restoring what has become corrupted.