Last Sunday in Ordinary Time:Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

The God-Given Leadership of Our Lord

    

    Every community needs good leadership. We see this in our parishes, in our towns, and even in our nations. Leaders are tested, their words are examined, and their past actions are reviewed. Only when they prove themselves honest and capable do we trust them with authority.

    But leadership in God’s kingdom is different. It is not chosen by votes or elections. It is given directly by God. And in Jesus Christ, we have the perfect leader. He is not only trustworthy — He is divine. As Scripture says: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” (Colossians 1:15, ESV). Jesus now reigns, “seated at the right hand of God” (Colossians 3:1, ESV), sharing in God’s power and guiding all who seek to live in His kingdom.

    The Bible often describes Jesus as a King. This language comes from the culture of the time, where kings ruled with authority and were seen as God’s representatives. The New Testament writers looked back to King David, Israel’s greatest ruler, and saw in Jesus the fulfillment of all their hopes. As the angel announced: “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David.” (Luke 1:32, ESV).

    Jesus is the true King and Leader of God’s kingdom. His leadership is not limited by human weakness or corruption. It is eternal, holy, and perfectly aligned with God’s will.

    The question for us is simple: Do we allow Jesus to lead our lives? Do we trust Him to give direction, not only to the Church and the world, but to our personal journey of faith?


Shepherd My People (2 Sam 5:1-3)

    

    When the elders of Israel came to David at Hebron, they spoke words that carried deep covenantal meaning: “We are your bone and your flesh.” In the tribal world of the Hebrews, this was more than a statement of kinship—it was a declaration of unity, of shared life and destiny. The king was not a distant ruler but a fatherly figure, bound to his people as one body. His authority was rooted in relationship, not domination.

    For Israel, the king stood as a visible sign of God’s invisible kingship. He was God’s vicegerent on earth, entrusted to lead as a shepherd tends his flock. His anointing marked him as Messiah—the chosen one consecrated to embody God’s rule among His people. The shepherd image captured the essence of this vocation: guiding, protecting, and nurturing, rather than exploiting.

    The New Testament writers saw these royal motifs fulfilled perfectly in Jesus Christ. He is the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for the flock, reversing the pattern of earthly kings who demanded sacrifice from their people. He is the Messiah, the Anointed King, not ruling a single nation but reconciling all creation to God. And in Paul’s vision, the Church is His body, inseparably united to Him—an echo of that ancient phrase, “bone and flesh,” now transfigured into the mystery of Christ and His people sharing one life.

    Psalm 122 gives voice to the joy of pilgrims entering Jerusalem, singing with excitement as they approached the temple precincts. That earthly temple was the dwelling place of God’s presence, where the king reigned in covenant fidelity. Yet for Christians, this psalm points beyond itself. It becomes a song of anticipation for the heavenly Jerusalem, where Christ sits at the right hand of the Father. The joy of pilgrims entering the earthly temple foreshadows the eternal joy of believers entering the heavenly temple, the communion of saints gathered in worship before the throne.

    Thus, the story of David’s anointing and the people’s declaration of kinship is not locked in the past. It unfolds into the present and the future. It reminds us that true leadership is shepherding, that unity with Christ is life itself, and that our pilgrimage is not merely toward a city of stone but toward the eternal dwelling of God. In Jesus, the shepherd-king, the anointed Messiah, and the head of the body, all these threads converge into one radiant tapestry of covenant, kingship, and eternal joy.


Primacy of Christ (Col. 1:12-20)

    

    Paul lifts our eyes to the mystery of Christ, not merely as the crucified one, but as the eternal Son through whom all things were made. In Colossians 1:12–20, he unfolds a vision of Jesus that stretches from the cross into the very foundations of creation. The Christ who died is the Christ who always was, the one in whom the Father’s Wisdom dwells.

    The echoes of Proverbs 8 resound here, where Wisdom is described as present with God before the world began, rejoicing in His creation. Paul identifies Jesus with this eternal Wisdom: the Son of God is not a late arrival in history but the One who stands absolutely prior to the visible universe. Before the stars were hung in the heavens, before the seas were poured into their basins, Christ was. He is the beginning, the source, and the meaning of all things.

    Yet Paul does not leave this vision in the realm of cosmic grandeur. He brings it down to earth, to the Church, to us. This eternal Christ is also the head of His body, the Church. The one who holds galaxies together also binds His people into one living organism, united in His life. In Him, the scattered fragments of humanity are reconciled, healed, and made whole.

    The cross, then, is not simply an act of suffering but the decisive moment of reconciliation. Through His death, Christ has brought peace between God and creation. What was estranged has been restored; what was broken has been mended. The Father has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of His beloved Son. This is not abstract theology—it is the story of our salvation.

    And so Paul calls us to thanksgiving. Gratitude is the fitting response to such a gift. We thank the Father who has delivered us, who has made us heirs of light, who has given us Christ as both Lord of creation and Lord of redemption. In Him, the eternal Wisdom and the crucified Savior are one. In Him, the universe finds its coherence, and the Church finds its life.

    The primacy of Christ is not only a doctrine to be confessed but a reality to be lived. To acknowledge His primacy is to see all things—our work, our relationships, our struggles—in the light of His lordship. It is to recognize that the One who reigns at God’s right hand is the same One who walks with us, shepherds us, and calls us His own.

    Thus, Paul’s hymn in Colossians is both cosmic and personal. It stretches from eternity past to eternity future, yet it touches the present moment with transforming grace. Christ is before all things, Christ is above all things, and in Christ all things hold together. He is the Wisdom of God, the head of the Church, the reconciler of humanity, and the beloved Son in whom we find our inheritance of light.


The Crucifixion (Lk. 23:35-43)

    At Calvary, the kingship of Christ is revealed in a way that overturns all human expectations. The
rulers scoff, the soldiers mock, and even one of the criminals derides Him. Yet in the midst of humiliation, Jesus reigns—not from a throne of gold, but from the wood of the Cross. His crown is of thorns, His scepter a reed, His royal proclamation a sign above His head: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” What appears to the world as defeat is, in the eyes of faith, the supreme victory of divine love.

    Catholic Tradition teaches that Christ’s kingship is inseparable from His sacrifice. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that Jesus is truly King because He “accomplished His mission by the obedience of the cross” (CCC 440). His reign is not imposed by force but manifested in self-emptying love. This is the paradox of the Cross: suffering becomes glory, death becomes life, humiliation becomes exaltation.

    In this moment of apparent weakness, Jesus exercises His royal authority by granting mercy. To the repentant thief, who acknowledges Him as King—“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”—Christ responds with sovereign power: “Today you will be with Me in Paradise.” This is no mere consolation; it is a definitive promise. The Church sees in this exchange the essence of salvation: faith, repentance, and the gratuitous gift of divine mercy. St. Augustine called the good thief the “first fruits” of the redeemed, a sign that no one is beyond the reach of Christ’s kingship when they turn to Him in faith.

    The Fathers of the Church often reflected on this scene as the unveiling of Christ’s true kingdom. St. Ambrose wrote that Paradise, lost through Adam’s sin, is reopened through the obedience of Christ. The thief, who had no merits of his own, enters by sheer grace. This underscores a central Catholic dogma: salvation is not earned but received as a gift, mediated through Christ’s sacrifice.

    The Crucifixion also reveals the eschatological destiny of the faithful. The promise of Paradise is not only for the thief but for all who die in Christ’s friendship. The Church teaches that our final destiny is eternal communion with God, a happiness beyond imagining. The Cross is the narrow gate that opens into this eternal kingdom. What seems like defeat is in fact the triumph of divine mercy, reconciling humanity to the Father and inaugurating the reign of Christ the King.

    Thus, the Crucifixion is not simply an episode of suffering but the enthronement of Christ. His kingship is exercised through love that embraces suffering, transforms death, and grants eternal life. The paradox of the Cross is the heart of Catholic faith: “We proclaim Christ crucified… the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:23–24).

    For the believer, this scene is both consolation and challenge. Consolation, because even in our darkest hour we can turn to Christ and hear His promise of Paradise. Challenge, because His kingship calls us to embrace the Cross in our own lives—to reign with Him by serving, to triumph with Him by suffering, and to enter His kingdom by surrendering all to His mercy.


Conclusion: Christ the King

    Brothers and sisters, today the Church proclaims with joy: Our Lord Jesus Christ is King of the Universe. His kingship is unlike any earthly rule. He does not reign with armies or political power, but with the authority of love poured out on the Cross. From that throne of wood He reconciled us to the Father, opened Paradise to the repentant thief, and revealed that true victory comes through mercy and self-giving.

    Christ is the Shepherd-King, the eternal Wisdom, the crucified Lord, and the risen Savior. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. He is the head of the Church, His body, and He calls each of us to live under His reign—not only in word, but in deed.

    So the question is not whether Christ is King. The question is whether we allow Him to be King in our lives. Do we let Him guide our choices, heal our wounds, and direct our steps? Do we trust His leadership more than our own?

    As this liturgical year closes, let us renew our allegiance to Christ the King. Let us follow Him in service, embrace Him in suffering, and rejoice with Him in hope. And let us look forward to the day when His kingdom will be fully revealed, when every tear will be wiped away, and we will hear His promise fulfilled: “Today you will be with Me in Paradise.”

To Him be glory and honor forever and ever. Amen.



Prayer to Christ the King

O Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe,  

You reign not with earthly power but with the authority of love.  

From Your Cross You reconciled us to the Father,  

    and from Your Resurrection You opened the way to eternal life.

Rule in our hearts, O Christ,  

    that we may trust You above all else.  

Rule in our families,  

    that Your mercy may heal divisions and strengthen bonds of love.  

Rule in Your Church,  

    that Your Spirit may guide our pastors and unite us in service.  

Rule in our world,  

    that Your peace may overcome violence, injustice, and fear.

Shepherd us as Your people,  

    draw us ever closer into Your Body, the Church,  

    and lead us on pilgrimage toward the heavenly Jerusalem,  

    where we shall rejoice forever in Your presence.

Christ our King, we renew our allegiance to You.  

To You be glory and honor, now and forever. Amen.



Thorns crown the true King,  

Cross becomes His throne of love,  

Paradise opens.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Joyful in Hope – 3rd Sunday of Advent (Cycle A)

Turning Toward the Wind: Living Water and Divine Tones

Gluttony and Catholic Living: Sin, Temperance, and Marian Intercession