Feast of Christ the King
If you look around a bus stop, a café, or even the pews before Mass begins, you see a universal posture. Heads are bowed. Eyes are cast downward. Silence reigns.
A century ago, this might’ve looked like a community in deep prayer. Today, we know better. We are bowing not to the Almighty, but to algorithm the god. As Pope Leo XIV wrote in his first message to the youth for the 40th World Youth Day (November 23, 2025), we are caught in a cycle of “endlessly scrolling on our cell phones, which captures our attention but leaves us with tired minds and empty hearts.”
We are searching, doomscrolling through news of wars in the East and unrest in the West, looking for answers and perhaps security. We are living in the “Scrolling Twenties,” and much like the “Roaring Twenties” of a century ago, the noise is deafening, yet our hearts feel strangely empty.
The implicit question haunting us today is: Who is actually in charge? Is it the algorithm? The political “strongmen”? The economy? To whom do we truly belong?
1925 and 2025
To understand why celebrating Christ as King matters today, we have to look back to the moment this feast was born 100 years ago.
The year was 1925. The world was catching its breath. The “Spanish Flu,” a catastrophe that claimed nearly 50 million lives (much like our own recent pandemic memories), had passed. The economy was roaring. Technology (radio, cars, airplanes) promised a utopia.
But Pope Pius XI looked out from the Vatican and saw storm clouds. In Russia, Joseph Stalin was solidifying a reign of terror. In Italy, Mussolini was rising. Then, looking toward Germany, Adolf Hitler published Mein Kampf. In Mexico, the government was warring against God’s people.
Pius XI realized that when the world evicts the Prince of Peace, it doesn’t become “free.” It becomes a “slave” to power. He wrote Quas Primas to remind a terrified world that politicians, no matter how loud they are or the “savior” posture they sell, are not God. Charisma in galvanizing citizens or in fostering patriotism doesn’t equal moral governance.
100 Years On?
Fast forward 100 years to today. In his message for this very Sunday, Pope Leo XIV identifies a new kind of tyranny. It isn’t just the dictator with a gun; it is the tyranny of “ideological propaganda.” It is the pressure to be an “activist” rather than a “witness.” And it is the polarization that demands we hate our enemies rather than love them.
We taste for divisive rhetoric. Our audiences’ crave for the drama becomes the king who determines our rhetoric. Paying for a DM on SuperChat becomes our measure for relevance. If our audience wants more anti-this or anti-that, viler this or that, we give it to them. We sacrifice charity on the altar of social media attention and engagement, and enthrone moral apathy.
By embedding moral apathy into our algorithmic models, we grant them a godlike power to deliver maximum impact, yet the responsibility remains ours, not the machine’s. We applaud ourselves for technological progress while blaming the algorithm for the very structures we designed it to enforce. In essence, we fashion gods with our own hands and crown them as king; and when peace proves elusive, we shift the blame to the machine.
The players have changed, but the crisis is the same: We are tempted to put our trust in “worldly kingdoms”, be it a political party, a social media following, a technological structure, or our own comfort or economics.
From Subjects to Friends
So, how does Jesus assert his Kingship in 2025? Does he come with a louder microphone? Or should he? Does he write a better algorithm?
No. The Gospel gives us a shocking twist. Jesus says to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” And as Pope Leo reminds us, Jesus says to us: “I have called you friends.”
This is the radical difference. Worldly Kings want subjects. By worldly, I don’t just mean unbelievers, I mean everyone including those who use the altar or the bible, the Quran, or other sacred books as evidence for their nasty communications. They want your vote, your money, and your angry retweets. They want you to be a “servant” to their cause and you oblige them. Christ the King wants friends.
Pope Leo XIV writes beautifully about this: “Jesus does not want us to be servants, nor ‘activists’ of a political party; he calls us to be with him as friends.” The Holy Father’s words are a strong message, and I know many would reject them as they rejected Christ two thousand years ago.
They fail to recognize that Christ’s Kingship is not imposed from a golden throne; it is offered from the wood of the Cross. It is a Kingship of intimacy. As Pope Pius XI taught, Christ claims authority over our intellect. He will, not to crush us, but to free us from the “narrow confinements” of our selfishness.
The Witness: The Two Johns
If Christ is a King-Friend, what does he ask of us? He asks for a witness. “You also are my witnesses, because you have been with me” (Jn 15:27).
Pope Leo XIV offers us two models for this, two “Johns” who show us how to live in the Kingdom of God while walking on the earth:
- John the Evangelist (The Beloved): He rested his head on Jesus’ chest. He knew that before we could do anything for the King, we must be with the King. In a world of burnout and “tired minds,” the King offers rest. He invites us to “listen to his heart.”
- John the Baptist (The Pointer): He was famous, but he refused to be an influencer. He said, “Behold the Lamb of God.” Pope Leo reminds us that “true witnesses do not seek to occupy the center stage.” In an era of selfies and self-promotion, the citizen of Christ’s Kingdom points away from themselves and toward the Truth.
Fraternity as a Weapon
Finally, how do we fight the battles of 2025? If we are subjects of this King, what are our weapons?
The world says: “Destroy your enemy.” The King says, “Love your enemies.” The world says, “Cancel those who disagree.” The King says, “Overcome evil with good.” For the wordily, the option is: once your feelings are hurt, post it on social media, call it “my truth,” and dare your opponent to come on social media and challenge you. The Gospel says, “turn the other cheek.”
Pope Leo XIV challenges us to a “political charity.” He writes: “Do not follow those who use the words of faith to divide.” Instead, we must be builders of peace. When we see violence, we offer fraternity. When we see polarization, we offer friendship. And when we experience rejection (and we will, for the servant is not greater than the master), we do not react with aggression. React with the warmth and flavor of the Gospel.
Conclusion
The “Roaring Twenties” of the last century ended in catastrophe because the world forgot who is King. Let us not make the same mistake in the “Scrolling Twenties.”
Today, let us lift our heads from the glowing screens that promise connection but leave us lonely. Let us lift our eyes to the Cross. There, we find the only King who does not take, but gives. The only King who does not demand soldiers but invites friends. The only King who can turn our tired minds into fountains of hope.
Christ conquers! Christ reigns! And most importantly… Christ loves. May Christ continue to reign in our lives and save us from the torments of today’s challenges and trials. Amen.
