A Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
Sunday, November 23, 2025
2 Samuel 5:1-3; Psalm 122:1-2, 3-4, 4-5; Colossians 1:12-20; Luke 23:35-43
Audio Recording
Today’s feast of Christ the King proclaims something astonishing: Jesus is not only the King of the Jews or even the King of humanity—He is the King of the Universe. King of every nation, every century, every star and galaxy, every unseen spiritual realm. Everything that exists was created through Him and for Him. He holds all things together.
But today’s Gospel shows us this King nailed to a Cross, surrounded by insults. The rulers sneer, the soldiers mock, and even the sign above His head—“This is the King of the Jews”—was meant as a joke. Nothing looks royal about that scene.
And yet, that is precisely where Jesus reveals His kingship.
One criminal demands that Jesus save Himself. But the other—traditionally called the Good Thief—sees what no one else can. He sees a King whose kingdom is not being destroyed that day but inaugurated. He knows that the One suffering beside him is innocent, and more than innocent—He is sovereign. So he makes a simple petition: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And the King responds with authority that no earthly ruler could ever wield: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Why does Christ reveal His kingship this way? Why not with overwhelming force or angelic armies?
Because He came to win our hearts, not to conquer us by power. The King of the Universe entered His creation in disguise. He took on our humanity, shared our suffering, and allowed Himself to be rejected so that we could finally understand what divine love looks like. His throne is the Cross; His crown is of thorns; His victory is mercy.
If Jesus had come with terrifying displays of might, we would have submitted out of fear. Instead, He came quietly so that we might choose Him freely. His kingdom spreads not through coercion but through transformed lives: forgiveness offered when it’s difficult, sacrifices made for others, fidelity in times of trial, and daily choices to obey His voice rather than the voices of sin and darkness.
To call Christ “King” means more than giving Him a title. It means allowing Him to govern every part of our lives—not just the parts that feel religious, but our decisions, relationships, finances, habits, speech, and secret thoughts. The Good Thief had no time left to make things right, yet his humble plea was enough. Christ’s rule is gentle, but it is real, and we must choose whether or not to accept it.
Right now, His kingship is veiled. He reigns under signs and sacraments, in acts of charity, in the quiet movements of grace. But the day is coming when the veil will be lifted and His kingship will be visible to all. Every knee will bend. Every power—spiritual and earthly—will be subject to Him. Those who embraced His mercy will rejoice; those who rejected His rule will face His justice.
This feast, placed at the end of the liturgical year, asks a direct question: Whom do I serve? Because everyone serves a king. Some serve comfort, others anger, politics, money, or the approval of the world. There are real powers in this world that seek to rule us—sin, fear, pride, and the evil one himself. Christ does not pretend otherwise. He calls us to choose: His kingdom or the kingdom of darkness. His gentle rule or the tyranny of sin.
Christ asks surprisingly little compared to what He gives. He is not a tyrant. His burden is light. But He does ask for our loyalty, our trust, and our willingness to let Him be Lord.
So today, we renew that choice. We say again, “Jesus, You are my King. Take Your rightful place in my life.” Let Him reign over your anxieties and your decisions. Let Him direct your words and actions. Let Him be the One who shapes your future.
And in the Eucharist today, the hidden King comes to dwell in us. The One who governs galaxies gives Himself as food. If we remain faithful to Him in His hiddenness now, we will rejoice with Him in His glory forever.
God bless you.