We begin a new liturgical year. The season of Advent comes around once more. And once more we are invited to wait in hope.
On Saturday I gave a day of reflection to a group who are dear to my heart. The priest saying mass asked me what readings I wanted. I hesitated and he suggested repeating the readings of the Feast of Christ the King. I gladly agreed.
The gospel was that of Jesus being mocked as being ‘King of the Jews’ as he hung on the cross. Of course this is the gospel for the feast, what else would it be.
And yet, and yet, the juxtaposition of the triumphant nature of the feast itself and the image portrayed in the reading jumped at me in a way it never has before.
What struck me was that Jesus hanging on the cross wasn’t the disaster it appeared to be. It was horrific; it was tortuous; it was desolate. But it wasn’t the disaster it appeared to be.
That gives me hope.