(The following is the text of a homily on the Solemnity of Christ the King by Father Kevin Regan, the pastor of Mother Seton Parish in Germantown, Maryland, on Nov. 23, 2025.)
A hundred years ago, Pope Pius XI gave the Church a tremendous gift: the Feast of Christ the King. It came at a time when the world was reeling from instability. Perhaps that is why, a century later, it is still one of our most relevant feasts.
History itself affirms Jesus’s words from last week’s Gospel: “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.” Human history is marked by instability. Governments rise and fall; political philosophies flare up and fade away. Even as we celebrate nearly 250 years as a republic – a remarkable achievement – the Church reminds us that political life on Earth is never ultimate. In our pews sit people from many nations, backgrounds, and systems. Yet today, we all gather under one King.
When Pius XI instituted this feast in 1925, the world was traumatized. The First World War had just devastated Europe. Trench warfare, mechanized killing, gas attacks –millions dead. Then the Spanish Flu swept across the globe. Even when the war ended, turmoil persisted: revolutions, new ideologies, and a rise in secularism and relativism reshaped entire societies.
Pius XI believed the world had forgotten who truly reigns. He established this feast not as a sentimental devotion, but to anchor a shaken world in reality. He hoped, in his words, to “hasten the return of society to our loving Savior.”
Christ the King is more than a poetic title. Pius XI meant something concrete: Christ is meant to reign over every human structure – political, cultural, or social. True peace, justice, and lasting truth can come only through docility to Christ’s law of charity, His understanding of human dignity, and His vision of freedom.
Leadership can sound political, but today we proclaim something above politics: Christ’s kingship is perfect because the King Himself is both fully human and fully divine. No earthly ruler can balance mercy and justice perfectly. No president, parliament, or monarch can wield power without limitations or failings. But Christ can – and does. The Old Testament prepares us to understand this.
Our first reading describes Israel accepting David as king. David, however, was not their first king – Saul was chosen because of his impressive appearance. Yet at David’s anointing, God told Samuel, “Man looks at outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” The contrast becomes clearer as their stories unfold. David’s victories for Israel bred Saul’s jealousy, which turned to fear and violence. David had to flee for his life and lived for years in the wilderness, moving constantly, pursued by Saul. Twice David could have killed Saul, and twice he refused, knowing true kingship is a gift from God, not seized by force.
David’s wilderness became his training ground, where humility, patience, mercy, and trust in God were forged – qualities Israel needed in a king. The Messiah would ultimately fulfill this hope, as the Angel Gabriel promised: “He will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
Imagine this man, a gift from the Father, also spending time in the wilderness preparing for his kingdom, misunderstood and pursued. This sets the stage for the Gospel. Jesus rarely calls Himself “king,” though He often speaks of the Kingdom of God. He says plainly, “My kingship is not of this world.” Yet in today’s Gospel, someone perceives it—a most unlikely person.
A dying revolutionary, who had lost everything, looks at Jesus – pale, bloodied, unarmed, nailed to a cross. Jesus doesn’t look like a king, but this man, given eyes of faith, says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He sees what others cannot: the King in disguise. The rejected, humiliated One is truly the Chosen One. Jesus’s response is immediate and royal: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” The first subject admitted to His kingdom is a repentant sinner.
On this 100th anniversary, Pius XI’s warning still speaks: Love your country. Pray for its leaders. Participate in civic life. But give to Christ alone what belongs to Christ. Do not place your hope for ultimate justice or peace in any political system. Every nation is temporary. Every ideology is passing.
Christ’s reign is universal. The first place His kingship must rule is the human heart –our desires, decisions, priorities, and moral courage. The true Feast of Christ the King is celebrated not only on the church calendar but in each disciple’s life.
A century ago, Pius XI looked out at a broken world and gave us this feast to remember the One whose kingdom is unshakeable. A hundred years later, the world remains unstable. But today, we confidently proclaim:
There is a King. He is alive. He reigns. And His kingdom will never pass away.
May He reign in our hearts, homes, country, and world – beginning today.
