Solemnity of Christ the King

It isn’t easy to believe in the prophecy of the Word of God.

And I will never stop repeating that the most terrible effort of my life has been to believe.

And I think that it is the same with you.

To believe does not have a natural dimension; it has a divine dimension within us.

It is not with my reason that I can affirm the presence of Christ in the Eucharist, or His Resurrection from the dead.

It is by faith.

And faith is a theological virtue given to us by God.

I know that the visible contradicts the invisible, I know that events on earth are incomprehensible and that they are constantly opposed by the eschatological vision of the Kingdom.

But I also know, and I have had the experience countless times, that when I “believe”, when I affirm with all my strength that the Word of God is eternal and that the prediction will happen, I upset reality, I overcome my heaviness, I enter an orbit of light, I experience a divine reality, I experience in me the Kingdom, I conquer the world that surrounds me and is trying to destroy me.

When I believe, I am no longer a simple human being, I am already the son of God.

And I am the son of a God who is master of the universe and who presides over a Kingdom that is recruiting His citizens on earth, but that, after having recruited them, leads them towards another mysterious reality that is no longer of this world.

It is He who said forcefully to him who asked if He were King : “My Kingdom is not of this world” (Jn 18, 36).

It is difficult to remember this truth. The visible constantly makes us forget the invisible. “This world” conditions us so much that we find it difficult to think that another exists.

And we are constantly taken by surprise; worse still, we are even scandalized.

If a child dies, we question the invisible with a painful “why”?

If, after building a house, raising a family, living with our children, we find ourselves alone in our old age, a spectator of our dissolving past, we are once again taken by surprise, and, desperately grasping at what remains, we struggle to prolong a while longer our time on earth; and we no longer take into account the fact that the invisible realities must absorb us in order to transform us and carry us beyond earthly realities.

The earth is not an end in itself.

What I see today is only a beginning : what follows will come later.

If the earth were an end in itself, it would be incomprehensible, totally hostile.

If it were an end in itself, if our painful history were to end here on earth, I would have no problem in classifying among criminels Him who, one way or another, conceived it, built it, and set it in motion.

You are surprised about an accident that cripples someone or disfigures a pretty girl? Go to a hospital and you will see that almost all are there as a result of a road accident where the incomprehensible deformity of man is multiplied.

You are scandalized by a military regime that tortures a rebel captured in the woods?

Why then are we not scandalized by the awful torments that nature inflicts on those who are dying of cancer, lasting months, sometimes years?

No, for me, nothing can justify the earth as an end in itself; creation is limited by our painful human existence.

No logic can explain why I, without having wanted it, have found myself in this immense imbroglio of history, living a reality that, as the psalm goes, is filled with fruitless toil (Ps 90, 10).

All that surrounds me is terribly incomplete, incomprehensible, temporary, painful, arbitrary, and if I didn’t consider it as part of a whole, a first period leading to others, a beginning that will be explained by a forthcoming development, beyond what I see, I could not do less than drag before the courts God himself who has made a mess of things, who created an earth full of faults, subject to earthquakes, and  heavens wild enough to destroy the shacks of poor fishermen. Facing reality, the reality that is visible to my way of looking at things, there is no other choice : either to curse it because it is the degenerate daughter of an insane father, or accept it as a mystery.

The Spirit of God who dwells in me tells me to accept it as a mystery.

His voice constantly tells me so.

And I give witness to my brothers saying : Yes, God is Lord of the Universe.

He is Lord, even if the sea rages.

He is Lord, even if I suffer and cry.

He is Lord, even if the elements destroy my home.

He is Lord, even when it is the hour of my death. It is precisely the hour of my death that will give me an explanation.

It is this incomprehensible moment for me as son of man which will become light to the son of God I am.

It is in dying that I will understand the “why” about life.

It is in dying that, like an atom compressed by all the weight of the universe, or warmed by the heat of unlimited love, I shall explode into God’s eternity.

Death is the door of the Resurrection.

Death is the entrance into the fullness of life.

Death is the greatest secret to be revealed.

Life is transformed, not destroyed .

Father Menard Rule of Life 1987 pg 152-155

 

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