This photograph is of an early 17th century crucifix found in the Sanctuary of San Damiano in Assisi, Italy. Thomas Merton writes of his early days in the monastery, where hand lettered signs were all over the place, reminding the monk to be recollected. He said of the signs, "After you've passed them a once or twice, you don't even notice them." But you can't just breeze by this crucifix — arresting in its emotional beauty.
This Feast of Christ the King is often celebrated in a triumphant way — rent a trumpeter for the Mass or service, pull out all the stops on the pipe organ to accompany a rousing rendition of To Jesus Christ our Sovereign King. But King-Jesus is not triumphant in any worldly way — he wears the fake crown of thorns on his head to make him look a crazed fool. So in love with earth-power—dictator-like leaders, consumer spending power — I'd suggest the Christians need to rethink this end-of-the-liturgical-year feast day. Big time!
God's power — revealed in the abused, crucified Jesus, is the power of committed love. So, here's the choice. It's the choice nations have before them. It's the choice each individual has to make: Where do I put my trust, my confidence?
The Second Psalm begins, "Why this tumult among the nations?" Other translations ask, "Why do the nations rage?" or "Why do the nations conspire?" It's a line about the nations in the ancient world and, of course, about our own time and place? It's always crisis time. The first psalm (introducing the collection of 150) says, "Happy indeed is the person who follows not the advice of the wicked, but whose delight is the law of the Lord and who ponders God's law day and night." And the last line of the second psalm (its partner) says essentially the same, "Happy are they who put their trust in God."
There it is. In 150 ways, the psalms put this choice before us — do I put my trust in money, in my connections, in my stored up stuff, in the power-leaders we elect, in my country's military might and threat, in our greatness (whatever that means), in our so-called freedoms — or humbly and simply, in God? Of course, we can be propagandized and not even know how self deceived we are. We can wear and fly slogans and never consider what these things mean spiritually: In God we trust. One nation under God. For God and Country. A nation can use throw-away God-words and still have a weaponized, greedy, arrogant, hater-heart.
But I'm not despairing. The Vatican nuncio (a pope's national representative) sent an online message to the bishops who met virtually this week. He laments how secularized the world has become by people who live as if God doesn't even exist. But I've known self-proclaimed Christians, and even been taught by or lived with clergy who I've wondered if they even believed. Yes! But then there are movements, not necessarily religious, that give evidence of great love—choosing love for the "crucified" people — the rejects, the wastes, the ones some might think should have been aborted. There's the rub, as they say.
I saw this news item on TV recently and subsequently found it again as a YouTube video. It's about choosing love (and God is love, St. John tells us, heh?). The second psalm is about that choice — finding and trusting God in a world of raging, conspiring, turmoil. Whether we know it or not, frame it in religious language or not, doesn't really matters: The love matters.
