Today’s feast is unusual, because “King” is probably the last title Jesus would have wanted. In the Gospels, Jesus refused every attempt to make him a king; the sign nailed to the cross on which he was crucified — “King of the Jews” — was meant as cruel mockery.

So, let’s take a closer look at kings and Jesus.

In the ancient world, kings ruled absolutely.
They made the laws, punished or forgave, collected taxes, and dictated the religion of their subjects.

Kings ruled over a defined territory.
If you were born within certain borders, you were a subject of that king whether you liked it or not. If you’re born in England today, you’re a subject of King Charles; in Spain, King Felipe; in Saudi Arabia, King Abdullah; in Cambodia, King Norodom.

Jesus is nothing like any of these monarchs. Jesus reigns only where he is allowed to do so, where he is welcomed. He says, “Not everyone who calls me Lord will enter the kingdom of God,” and “Unless you are born again…” Nothing with Jesus is automatic. He “rules” only when we choose to follow him as the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

The statement “Jesus is King” tells us less about Jesus and more about us. It raises a deeper question: Who or what actually rules my life?
Is it ambition? Fear? Pleasure? Envy? Or is it a richer mix — love, forgiveness, kindness, respect for others?

Towards what goals do we channel our energy?
Do we give our hands and hearts to the work of Jesus?
Do we choose to live simply, as he lived?
Do we care for the people society ignores?
Are we agents of hope and life for the people who know us?

In today’s Gospel, it is the crucified criminal — not the religious leaders, not the Romans — who sees beneath the surface and recognizes Jesus for who he is: the image of the invisible God. He asks Jesus: “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus grants his request.

God’s love and forgiveness are not rewards for good behavior. They are gifts — pure gift. What does this criminal do to “earn” forgiveness? He asks. Nothing more. God eagerly grants his request.

Jesus is the image of the invisible God. He is not a reflection of our parents or the pope. Notice that Jesus welcomes the thief — the murderer — into paradise, not the priests or the political leaders.

Saying “Jesus is King” is NOT like saying “Trump is President” or “Karen Bass is Mayor.” They hold those jobs regardless of how we feel or what we do about them. But Jesus becomes King only when we let him into our hearts — when we accept God’s love even in moments of self-doubt, discouragement, or despair.

Jesus never dominates or coerces. He does not rule over us — he invites us. God never coerces; God only invites us to receive love and forgiveness and asks that we share those life-giving gifts with others.

Jesus never dominates or coerces. He does not rule over us — he invites us.

Jesus is truly King only when/where we choose to let him inspire us to do what he did, and what he continues to do at this Eucharist: be nourishment and life for others.

Whenever we choose love over hate, welcome over rejection, truth over falsehood, personal integrity over public approval… then Jesus reigns in our hearts. Jesus reigns in our homes.
Jesus reigns in our world — even if our world is very small.

Then and there, Jesus is King.

Stephen A. Privett, S.J. is a Jesuit priest and president emeritus of the University of San Francisco, and a friend of the Center's founder for more than fifty years.

Reproduced from the homily as delivered. ← Back to Reflections

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