Christ the King: Creation, Redemption, and Majesty
Readings and Virtual Homily for November 23, 2025, Feast of Christ the King; Twelve Busy Sabbatical Days; California Dreaming; Late Additions to the Mass Schedule
Readings for Mass this Sunday:
2 Samuel 5:1-3
Psalm 122:1-5
Colossians 1:12-20
Luke 23:35-43
Dear Friends and Family:
Today is the Feast of Christ the King. As I have observed often enough in the past, one of my favorite feast days of the year. The day when we celebrate how all of creation comes together in the Kingship of Christ, God-made-man. All of creation comes through the Second Person of the Trinity ("through him, all things were made”). All of creation is rescued, redeemed, and not just restored but made new, through the Second Person of the Trinity incarnate, the man Jesus of Nazareth.
This stupendous reality hardly bears analysis, though of course, careers have been built, in its analysis; books written about it, professorships spent teaching it, the hearts, minds and souls of countless theologians and saints given over to its contemplation. But truly, the reality we contemplate today is so vast, so majestic, so astonishing that I wonder what I might say here that could approach doing it justice.
Of course I have given homilies on this feast day; have done so since late November, 2006, a brand new priest in Pleasanton. And if I were so inclined this morning, I could take each of today's readings in turn and offer analysis and perspective. Number one, I have done that before. Number two, as I say, it would not begin to do justice to the reality we contemplate today: Jesus of Nazareth, true man; and at one and the same time, the Second Person of the Trinity, true God. Jesus Christ, King of creation, King of the universe.
I mean, really, give it a moment's reflection. "Through him" the Andromeda Galaxy came into being.
And he hung on a cross, bleeding to death, to save not just us but all creation, which fell when its steward (the human being) fell. To rescue it, its Creator became a human being, and died that death for it. For us.
I am gonna add anything to that?!?
I do love today's passage from Colossians, one of several in the New Testament that asserts in no uncertain terms the huge mystery we celebrate today.
"He is the image of the invisible God...in him were created all things in heaven and on earth...all things were created through him and for him...in him all things hold together...for in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell and through him to reconcile all things...making peace by the blood of his cross" (vss. 15-20).
And who does not love the passage from Luke, where Jesus forgives his executioners and prays for their salvation (vs. 34); where St. Dimas (the good thief) comes so startlingly to Jesus' defense, and throws himself on God's mercy (vss. 40-43). Dimas is the first among all humanity (leaving Mary out of this) to avail himself of the salvation being won at that very moment. What must it have meant to Jesus, to have that -- that affirmation, that confirmation? To have that evidence, that proof, of the power and the effectiveness of his sacrifice? He had not even died yet and already, his total self-giving was bearing fruit.
Thank you, Dimas, is all I can say.
And thank you, Jesus. Thank you, my Lord, my God, my Savior, my King. Just a suggestion, to really enter into the cosmic dimensions of the feast we celebrate today: The next time you gaze up at the stars on a clear night, recall that "through him all things were made."
I've joked off and on for the past five and one-half months that though I am technically on sabbatical, there are days when contemplating my schedule, no one would guess it. But on the whole, that fact has pertained only to the occasional day, maybe two days together, since the start of the summer; on the whole, my weeks have been fairly spacious in terms of time and schedule.
Not so the twelve days that ended with this past Wednesday. Among many other things, a three-day Kairos Retreat with the juniors at San Damiano immediately followed by a weekend retreat for Bay Area chapters of the Legion of Mary at St. Clare in Soquel promptly followed by a two-day trip to LA for San Gabriel Media (and some wonderful time with my LA family). Among several other things, all that and more. It was like what life used to be like when I was fulltime in the parishes. That is, non-stop.
I got to this past Thursday and -- not having the morning Mass -- slept 'til 930, then spent 45 minutes catching up texts and e-mails from bed. Had coffee after my shower, did not bother to shave, hit the road for Pleasanton, where I had a lunch date with a dear friend, returned to the parish and checked my box in the office (it was overflowing -- I had not checked it in over a week), ran a couple errands and then...drove to Danville for dinner with a couple more dear friends and...felt blessed. Felt relaxed. Felt like I had exhaled.
I mean, after all. I AM (supposedly) on a sabbatical...
Will close with this "report from the road" (that is, I-5, and in contemplation of all that has come to be, through Him). The recent surprisingly heavy rains, the more so because the south state has actually recorded greater precipitation totals than we have, have left California not just green but vibrantly so, deeply so. The drive down 5 this week (I waited 'til Tuesday to go, so as to avoid the storm at the start of the week) was gorgeous. The clarity of the air; the huge fluffy white-and-grey clouds; the sparkling sunlight. The slopes of the Coast Range were either turning green or were green already and the valley itself was...What was that 1940s film called? How Green Was My Valley? How green IS our Central Valley right now? VERY.
Only in the Tehachipis did I find myself among summer-still-golden hills. But even there, and surprising -- because after all, it is only November -- the highest peaks had snow. It was bright and sunny, driving over the Grapevine, but the huge clouds were all over the place, and as we rose into the mountains, they became quite close to the freeway; maybe just a couple hundred feet above us. It was cool.
The drive -- both down and back -- was effortless; zero traffic, plenty of cars and trucks, but we never slowed down anywhere. I stopped at Harris Ranch both going south and heading back; took photos there, the valley there was so -- photogenic, I guess.
It was a blessed way to end the twelve busiest days of this sabbatical. Those days will not be repeated, but I am not sorry for them. Just the opposite. All their jammed-together experiences were experiences of grace, above all of the grace of priesthood and for that, well, again, thank you, Jesus, my Lord, my God, my Savior, my High Priest, my King.
That'll wrap it.
Happy Thanksgiving!
God bless.
Love,
El Padre
Last-minute changes to the November schedule, all of them this weekend. I now have all four English Masses here at St. Clement -- the vigil this evening at 5; the 8, 1115 and 630 tomorrow.
I had not been scheduled this weekend because I had had a trip planned, but as with so many other travel plans this sabbatical, the trip was scotched, owing to my determination to get as much done, as well done as possible, for our efforts at San Gabriel Media. We wound up without our frequent helper priest this weekend, here in the parish (Fr. Celestine, a young scholar from Rwanda, studying at the GTU in Berkeley). So our pastor asked me for help. Happy to take up the slack!