Each year, at this point in the liturgical calendar, many churches observe Reign of Christ Sunday, the last Sunday before the beginning of Advent. In the more theologically liberal churches we welcome the critique of the problematic dimensions of the metaphor – e.g., the patriarchal and hierarchical model of “power over” christologies, the Christian adoption of the symbols of Empire, Christendom’s propensity for colonial methods of mission and evangelism.
But liturgical history reveals a kind of ironic amnesia of the origins of the day. Instituted by Pope Pius XI, the original “Feast of Christ the King” was intended as a theological critique and liturgical resistance against the very things many have come to associate with it. In 1925 nationalism was on the rise, dictatorships were being embraced as political quick fixes, and early forms of Fascism were becoming increasingly attractive to the masses. In Germany, Hitler’s star was rising within the Nazi Party. In Italy Mussolini was employing oppressive censorship and the tools of propaganda to grasp for power beyond that of Prime Minister to eventually become King Victor Emmanuel III. (And don’t forget the meaning of “Emmanuel” – “God with us”!).
In instituting the Feast of Christ the King (the emphasis being on Christ, rather than any human Head of State), Pope Pius called on Christians to bear witness to a prophetic resistance to inappropriate and inhumane uses of political power. The Christian Sovereign rules not by power and might, but by vulnerability and service. Thus, in the words of a hymn by Dan Damon, which we sang on Sunday, our prayer is for a counter-cultural kind of reign: Eternal Christ, you rule keeping company with pain; with love and truth as tools, come build in us your reign.
