Friends, this Solemnity feast of Jesus, Our Brother and Friend, as I have named it, traditionally known as, Christ the King has only been with us since 1925.   Pope Pius XI established it, because in his words, “People had thrust Jesus and his holy law out of their lives.” He also said, “These laws [were given] no place in public affairs or in politics,” basically suggesting, that they should! The pope continued, “As long as individuals and states refused to submit to the rule of the Savior, there would be no really hopeful prospect of a lasting peace among nations.”

Now there may be some truth in that because if we are to look at the message of Jesus’ life; we can sum it up quite succinctly by saying that it was, “all about love.”   The pontiff’s words say that if we don’t follow Jesus’ “law of love” in our dealings around the world; there is no hope for peace.  I think “love of adversaries” is probably not the first item on the list when trying to figure out how to deal with other nations.

So, from the standpoint of a “Roman” Catholic pope declaring this feast; we can perhaps understand the naming of Jesus, the Christ, as “King.”  It is interesting though that Jesus was not a king in his own time, nor did he ever claim the title for himself.  In fact, the title was used to mock him as he hung, dying on the cross—as I just proclaimed, “You saved others, save yourself, if you are King of the Jews!”

All the people, living in the time of Jesus, knew of kings—there was Herod, a puppet king set up by Rome, who knew nothing about being a true king—one who would care for the people and be about their best interests.  The people of Jesus’ time awaited a Messiah and had the mistaken idea that when this messiah came, he would take on Rome and conquer this enemy, once and for all.  Imagine their disappointment and confusion when Jesus was crucified.  We might say that many in this country were awaiting a “messiah” of sorts when they cast their votes almost two weeks ago.

But Jesus was about something else—“I have come to set a fire on the earth”—a fire basically of love—there will be no more bloodshed, either of animal offerings or human sacrifice—I am coming to do something new.

It strikes me that we saw a similar phenomenon in this year’s election. The president-elect made it abundantly clear who he was, who he didn’t like and who in fact he would wield the power of the White House against—minorities, immigrants, women—yet as one commentator said this last week, many, many people who have good hearts put these truths aside and voted for him anyway thinking that he would make their lot in life better, even though through his many business dealings; he proved that the opposite was true.

I have not commented on the election yet in a homily and throughout the election process, I tried not to, simply because I think I need to keep the lines clear.  I speak now only because when someone who wishes to lead our country displays an inability to do so coupled with a moral sense that in the least, seems to be lacking, such as we have not seen before in an aspirant for the White House; we have to ask, “What is going on?”

There have been many explanations given as to why we experienced this outcome and it isn’t my purpose to get into that except to mention that our Church in its hierarchy was less than prophetic when it encouraged parishioners—in some cases, rather strenuously to “vote pro-life.”  I say, “less than prophetic” because their definition of “pro-life” was very narrow—being “pro-life” means from birth to death, and everything in between.  Just because someone talks about overturning Roe v. Wade, that is a far cry from doing it.  Pro-life is also about uplifting minorities, refugees, women and all others down-trodden—being pro-life is hard work! Or as one of you has been sharing in emails recently, “Good is something you do, not something you talk about.  Some medals are printed on your soul, not your jacket.”  Another way to say it, “when convenient and when not,” and certainly never because you are trying to get votes!

Next Sunday begins Advent and the words of the prophets will don some the cards we send out for the Christmas Season—“The lion will lie down with the lamb.” Jesus indeed asks something new of us—even now, over 2,000 years later.  We must not just speak about being good; we must in fact, BE GOOD and object when we see less than good in those who want to be our leaders.

Several years after Jesus’ resurrection, when the people truly thought about it, they began to give him the title of “king.”  People did this in that best sense of what a king should be—one who was wise, good—a person of justice, who would truly care for the needs of people and call them to be the best they could be for themselves and others. This was truly a description of who they knew Jesus to be.   People instinctively know when goodness and truth appears and name it for what it is.

In our quest then to understand the naming of Jesus as king, we can look to the early years of Christianity.  As the young Church was growing and becoming more established, it was no doubt felt important to state, in no uncertain terms that Jesus was the fulfillment of the religious expectations of the Jewish people and thus the tracing of him back to David in the genealogies.

In the first reading from Samuel, we learn what can be expected from a true king—this person would shepherd and protect the people—would be their leader.  They also saw the king as the one who would be the commander of Israel—the one who would lead them into battle against their enemies, thus the misconception of who Jesus, the Messiah would be.  I think for too long, our Church has been under the misconception as well of what Jesus intended for our world.

We see the response of the true king in Jesus as he gave his life—he wasn’t ultimately concerned about himself, but promises paradise to his brother criminal for recognizing his royal nature—both that of Jesus and his own, when he said, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” In Jesus’ response, he proves himself a king, even though his throne isn’t majestic, but a cross.  And again, we must remember, Jesus never claimed “kingship” for himself.

Paul, in our second reading today, gives many names to Jesus to add to his royal title; first-born of all creation, image of the invisible God.  These two names alone tell us much about our God. If we see and know Jesus, we then know what our God is like.  If we look to the Scriptures and study the life Jesus lived, we know that our God is a God of love, mercy, justice—one who lifts up the lowly, one who will fight for the down-trodden—one who is not about being served, but one who wants to serve, wants to share with us this beautiful creation—wants us to be close.     And on this weekend when we celebrate what it means to be a true leader as we see it in Jesus, we can’t help but grieve as we contemplate the election of a man who does not emulate any of these qualities.

Paul continues with the names he attributes to Jesus:  In his resurrection, Jesus is first-born of the dead.  This title should give each of us hope—knowing that Jesus rose, signals what we can expect!

So, one thing that we can say about Jesus Christ, the King is, as a scripture scholar has said, “He is unparalleled in all history as far as kings go,” whether he ever saw himself that way or not.  It is understandable that Jesus never claimed a title or position for himself—the true prophets are about something different—not taking care of themselves, but others—calling each of us to our best selves.  And in my mind, because he is such a great role model in simplicity and servanthood, “Brother” is a much better title than “King.”

Each year at this time; we recall the death of John F. Kennedy—a young man taken too soon for whom Joan Chittister stated, “With the death of the young president came the death of the spirit of the nation. Hope died and direction died and idealism died in an entire generation with [his] death. If we learn anything from such waste, it is that each of us carries some part of another person’s life; but we never know how much.  We as a people must realize that we live not just for ourselves, but for others –this is not just a Christian attribute, but a human one.  It is one we will need to keep in mind these next four years and speak up when we see less than that!

Pope Pius XI was concerned back in 1925 that Jesus and his message needed to once again become more familiar to each of us—needed to penetrate our lives and as we move out into our society, state and government—allow Jesus’ way of life to seep into all the structures that govern our world and its people.   If we want to bring peace to our world, we need to remember the golden rule of Jesus, our Brother—that we do to others as we would want others to do to us.  Maybe the question we should all ask ourselves as this Church Year ends and a new one begins next week—can we recommit ourselves to follow Jesus’ lead?

Our readings this week cause us to ask, “What happens next? This question is one we all need to contemplate in our lives, from beginning to end—in our youth and as we age.  And there are different meanings and answers we come to as we move through our lives.  As young children, we were thoroughly engaged in life, discovering all there was to know, getting our simple needs met, hopefully—enjoying our existence.  Hopefully too, as a child, we knew a certain amount of love so that growing into adulthood; we felt good about ourselves and as a result, were able to make a contribution to our world.  Not everyone finds themselves in this situation and then, life can be a struggle.  If we didn’t receive all the nurturing needed in our younger years, hopefully we found it later on in our lives and are able now to give back a measure of what we have received.

As the years of our lives go by; we begin at some point reflecting, with more urgency, whether there is life after this life.  We see parents, spouses, and siblings die, and we begin to realize that we are the next group that will experience this awesome passing over and the thought may bring some trepidation—hopefully less and less as we age.  Scripture and our faith tell us that we can’t imagine what God has prepared, yet our human nature wants instinctively to hold on to what it knows.

Separations come in life, from death and other causes, and yet, life continues to move on—there is no stopping it.  It is all a mystery and we all can only pray to understand and accept it somehow.

We all understand the passion for life that underlies the readings today, especially in the gospel story.  We too instinctively want life to continue.  We know this fact most personally, in our own lives, as we watch our families grow and change, take on responsibility and carry life forward.

This passion for, and value that we place on human life can be seen in the practices that have arisen in different cultures through time—burial rituals for instance.  Because we consider life to be sacred, the places that we commit our loved ones to become sacred as well. These places become “sacred” because people deem them as so, leaving proclamations from church officials that differ, null and void. Some cultures commit their loved one’s remains back to the ground or the sea—lift them up to the heavens—according to where they believe the person came from.

The inevitability of death makes us reflect upon the meaning of life—what am I here for?—what is my piece to do?—a very spiritual question. I am working with a couple preparing them for marriage in the spring and the man in the couple comes out of a background that didn’t include a religious upbringing—he has no problem with those who do espouse a religion,  it is just not something that is important for him.

I indicated to him that even though this was the case, that he doesn’t claim a particular faith, he was no doubt a spiritual person.  I explained that each of us is a composite of the physical, emotional and spiritual.  Explaining the spiritual piece; I told him, it is what we get up for each day, the code of ethics by which we live—it may even be what we live and would die for.  Given that explanation, he conceded that he is a spiritual person.  I gave him an exercise to do entitled, “My Spiritual Journey” wherein I think he will answer questions for himself like, “Why am I here—what am I to do with my life?”

Continuing our thinking then around life and death presented by the Scriptures today; we are told that the Israelites did not have a clear idea of an afterlife—they believed that the dead went to a place they called Sheol, a place of neither reward nor punishment, a shadowy, underworld place.  They didn’t have a notion of an immortal soul like the Greeks who came after them. The Israelites believed their God was “of the living,” not the dead, so this would fit their thinking that discounted an immortal soul.  The Israelites did not venerate gods of the underworld as other nations did.  Even though their belief didn’t include an immortal soul; they didn’t believe that death was the end.

The reading from 2 Maccabees, while incredibly violent, serves to inform us of several important points in understanding the Israelite people and their way of thinking.  This reading comes out of a time of persecution when the occupying Greeks are trying to force the Israelite people to renounce their religious practices.  The reading shows the valor of those being tortured, because from three of the victims who speak, we learn of their belief that God will one day “lift them up.”  It stops short of claiming a belief in an immortal soul, but clearly is speaking of the resurrection of the dead.  This reading is the earliest reference to some form of existence after death.

It is this belief that one day we will see our loved ones again that gives each of us hope in the loss of loved ones and too, as we contemplate our own deaths. This past week, I was called to the hospital to minister to a young couple whose marriage vows I had witnessed last fall.  Their 39-week old daughter was still-born.  As you can imagine, it was a very sad time—one day the baby was jumping in her mom’s womb and the next day, there was no movement.  We spent time together, sharing, caring, anointing—baptizing this little one with our tears and I know the thought if not there at the moment, will come for them—we will see her again, one day!

In the gospel reading, Jesus deals with the same theme, that of the resurrection of the dead. Because the Sadducees don’t believe in the resurrection of the dead;  they try to make a sham of it in the scenario they raise of the seven brothers all marrying the same woman—an ancient marriage practice to keep the family line going, all through the male, of course. Jesus exposes their mockery by insisting that there will be no need for marriage in the next life because there will be no death.  He also restates the traditional belief that their God is, “of the living,” not the dead.

Even so, Jesus, as is always the case, is presenting something new.  Here, it is his understanding that God is God of the living and not the dead and the fact that it means something different to him than what the Israelite people have always believed. In the original meaning, “God of the Living,” simply meant, those who were alive now, whereas Jesus was talking about the resurrection of the dead and that those people would then be alive in a “new” way.

We continue then, to question through these readings, where the belief in the resurrection of the dead comes from because we know it doesn’t come from the Greek belief in the immortal soul.  Upon further reflection, we realize this belief for them, so passionately displayed in the torture of the Maccabees is their ardent belief in covenant—the promise made to them by their God—“I will be your God and you will be my people.”  So, my friends, it was all about their trust in their God—they believed the bonds that bound them were so strong as to be unbreakable.  That was the foundation for their faith.  A good place for us to contemplate how strong our faith is and to what extent we would go for that faith!

This is carried forth into Christian belief as Paul writes to the Romans 8:38-39, “neither death, nor life…will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”  For us friends, it is the same, we believe.  As Paul says today to the Thessalonians, “May our Savior, Jesus Christ, may God who loved us and in mercy gave us eternal consolation and hope, console [our] hearts and strengthen them for every good work and word.  The young couple I mentioned, grieving the loss of their daughter will go on holding tight to each other and continue to choose life.

The readings clearly reflect end times as we liturgically move in our church year toward its end.  November is a good time to reflect on all that this means as we literally watch our earth and surroundings change before our eyes.  Many people are putting their yards and gardens to bed, so to speak, for the season.  Days are becoming shorter—with less light.  For some of you, I know, this brings sadness—it brings change—it slows life down—others are ready to rest in the slower pace.

I believe the Church, in God’s wisdom sets us up liturgically each year to go through these changes along with our earth. Here in the Midwest; we truly see these stark contrasts of change. These changes allow us to reflect on life, its goodness, and its finality, and strive as we look toward a new Church Year, as Advent begins in a few weeks, to always, always keep our focus on Jesus who came to show us the way, the truth and the life.  Our readings today call us to the finality of life, yes, but also to the promise of everlasting life.  Amen? (Response)  Amen!

I always like when this Gospel today comes around because it can teach us much about our relationship with God.  Zaccheus merely wanted to see Jesus—he climbed the tree to get some height that his physical stature didn’t allow him.  Up the tree, he could see Jesus, safely, from a distance.  But Jesus had something else in mind—he wanted to know Zaccheus in a more personal way—he wanted to come to his house—eat with him—talk with him—get to know him.  It is the same with us—Jesus wants to get to know us—share our lives—a concept we shouldn’t miss when reading this gospel.

On a deeper level, the story of Zaccheus tells us something about the culture of the time and within that culture is where Jesus was able to reach Zaccheus and enter into his life, giving him true life.  Zaccheus we know, was a tax-collector; a profession despised by any respectable Jew.  Being a tax-collector meant that you worked for the occupying Romans.  You were not salaried, but took your living out of the extra taxes you demanded from your neighbors.  There was no limit on this—Zaccheus merely had to pay a set amount to the Romans and anything above that was his. We know that he took care of himself because, as the Scriptures say, “he was wealthy.”

There are many interesting twists in this story and Jesus uses them all to teach those gathered, along with offering Zaccheus something he could not buy through his tax-collecting. First, recalling that Zaccheus was despised by his neighbors for his profession—he joined a group of others—Samaritans, prostitutes, and lepers, also looked down upon.  It was custom/culture to shun people who certainly weren’t living very good lives; it was thought, as to end up in such places and predicaments.  It would be the same if we were to assume that any of us who live with an ailment in life are getting what we deserve.

Now we might look down on this kind of behavior, but in our day, has the mindset changed that much in dealing with people we don’t understand, can’t accept, or don’t approve of? We may ignore, refuse to listen, even judge them, taking comfort in a group of people who think and act as we do, telling ourselves that we are right and they, the “different ones,” are wrong.  We don’t wish to really hear a dissenting message, as it disturbs our comfort level.

A case in point looms before us in North Dakota with the Native People demonstrating against an oil pipeline that they feel could rupture and destroy the waterways that literally give their people life. The juxtaposition is that we all use oil, so we all need to prayerfully consider where we come down on this issue.

Jesus we know was one to turn things upside down.  Everyone knew that respectable Jews didn’t enter the home of a known sinner and all the above mentioned; tax-collectors, prostitutes and lepers, were in that category.  Who are the outcasts in our society, we might ask, that we choose not to be seen with? Jesus, our brother doesn’t let these culture mores stand in his way, but enters Zaccheus’ house anyway.  Jesus always looked deeper, wanted to get to know people; not just assume them worthless because of what they did.  He wanted to talk with them, hear their stories, love them where they were and then call them to be more.

By the very fact that Jesus wanted to come to Zaccheus’ house already told Zaccheus that he was dealing with someone a cut above the rest, and one who could offer him true meaning in life.  One of the interesting twists in this story is that even though Zaccheus was wealthy, which would indicate some power-over-others, he was short in stature—an issue, or it wouldn’t have been mentioned.  We know it impeded Zaccheus from clearly seeing this important figure to his town, Jesus.  People in Zaccheus’ time looked at any physical impediment as most likely caused by sin.  Being that Zaccheus was a tax-collector, a despicable profession, probably was a reason for his shortness, culture dictated.

Once again Jesus calls the lie to such narrow thinking.  I want to come to your house today Zaccheus—to dine with you.  I want to know you.  Jesus’ sentiment comes right out of the Wisdom reading for today, “You love all things that are created and loathe nothing.  Because Jesus looked into Zaccheus’ heart, Zaccheus found the strength—the grace, to change his life.   Jesus always chose the compassionate, understanding response—not the easier one that so many in his day and we too, at times choose.  If we can categorize those that aren’t like us, put them in a box—because, they are wrong and we are right, we don’t need to ever grow closer, ever come to understanding.  And during this election year, there is plenty of grist for such “easy” sizing up of people.

In that vein, I was pleased to read a commentary by former congressperson, Tim Penny this past week in the Winona Daily News where he did some comparison of the political process that we have all been through these last 18 months as compared to what people of all stripes manage to do through philanthropic organizations.  The political process tends to be so divisive whereas the more “neutral” organizations designed for giving to worthy causes tend to unite people after a common cause.

The word Penny uses in his commentary to describe the philanthropic endeavors, is “collaboration.” Collaboration isn’t always easy he says, but it is the way to go. It seems to me, a good idea to embrace across the board to give life, and as Penny indicates, more vitality.

All the readings today are about salvation—not in the narrow sense of saving folks from their humanness—but in a much broader sense.  Jesus wants people to know, as described in the Wisdom reading, the Creator “loves all of creation,” or would not have made it!  We might also say, “God created only that which is loved!”

Jesus, in the great heart of God, knows and understands Zaccheus—he knows what he does for a living and he knows why he does it—he knows all that makes up Zaccheus’ life.  He doesn’t judge, but moves to the next step—he respects Zaccheus and loves him to be more than Zaccheus thought was possible.

With Jesus, simple acceptance of Zaccheus where he was, then gave him the strength through Jesus’ love to change his life—that is what salvation is really all about—finding the strength to be all we were created to be.

We have to smile when we think of Zaccheus, the wealthy tax-collector, wielding, no doubt a good bit of power around Jericho, by nature of his occupation , climbing the sycamore tree like an excited child to see someone, he knew was important for reasons he wasn’t totally aware of.  He had the misconception that, up the tree, he probably wouldn’t be seen. Little did he know that Jesus was about to teach him and all of Jericho a significant lesson—God loved him right where he was and for what he was.

Certainly Jesus knew all that Zaccheus was capable of and through love, selflessly given, compassion and understanding, Jesus brought about the transformation in him that at some level Zaccheus was looking for when he climbed the tree that day.

For each of us friends, Jesus is on the look-out each and every day of our lives to enter in through the sorrows, the joys, the “ah-ha” moments.  We try to hide, in safe places too, up our own trees—behind our names, our situations—our pain, the people we know—thinking that God won’t find us or probably doesn’t care.  And if we think that, we would be wrong.  Let me say that again—if we think that our God doesn’t care—WE WOULD BE WRONG!  All we have to do is reflect on all the Scriptures where Jesus goes out of his way to make a difference in people’s lives like today with Zaccheus.

This gospel story tells us in no uncertain terms that our God wants to be part of our lives, wants us to be our best selves.  And it all begins, simply, with love.  Once we know we are loved and accepted, we can then share that love with others.

Paul prays today with us that God will continually make us worthy of our call as followers of Jesus, the Christ—that by his power in our lives, all good and works of faith will be accomplished through us.  On this next Tuesday, the Church will celebrate the feast of All Saints. No doubt, we will reflect on some of our favorite saints through the years, who have touched our lives. I think it is important to remember that we are all saints in God’s eyes—we all have that inherent goodness that our God created us with—we just need to show the truth of that each day in our lives.

On Wednesday, the Church will celebrate the feast of All Souls—a day we remember all those who have gone before us—many who have shown us the way. It is significant that near the end of the church year, we reflect on who we are in God’s eyes, who have been the people who have touched and mentored us in life and make a resolution to be all that we can be in their memory, going forward.

Each week we pray for those who have died when we gather here for liturgy. As a community we have created a book that we can open each year during the month of November and remember in a special way all those who have gone before us who have helped make us who we are. So, beginning next Sunday and throughout the month of November, I will invite you to record the names, birth and death dates of your loved ones. This special book is our parish’s Book of Life.

Paul’s prayer today, that all good and works of faith be accomplished through us is a mighty challenge. My friends—let us pray for the grace to be faithful to this call.