BIBLICAL BACKGROUND: Christ the King (Year C)

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Date: November 23, 2025
Liturgical Season: Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe (Last Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C)

Readings:

First Reading: 2 Samuel 5:1-3
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 122:1-2, 3-4, 4-5
Second Reading: Colossians 1:12-20
Gospel: Luke 23:35-43

One-Sentence Theme:
When earthly kingdoms collapse and the cosmos expands beyond human comprehension, the Church proclaims a King stripped naked on a cross-throne, where a criminal enters Paradise TODAY—not through cosmetic performance, but through simply saying “Jesus, remember me.”

INTRODUCTION TEXT, which you are welcome to read aloud before the Liturgy of the Word, is placed at the very end of this post.

WHY “KING OF THE UNIVERSE”?

This feast was established in 1925 when all earthly kingdoms had fallen, then renamed “King of the Universe” in 1969 when humans first walked on the moon and the cosmos expanded beyond imagination. For the full historical context of why this solemnity matters in our moment, see the Resources.

What matters here is this: The key to understanding this Sunday is not just in the readings themselves, but in recognizing what holds them together—a single image that appears in the Responsorial Psalm and echoes through every text:

Jerusalem, “strongly compact,” “joined to itself.”

Two realities—earthly and heavenly, human and divine, visible and invisible—joined together. Not separated. Not divided. Joined.

That’s what happens on the cross. That’s what the torn veil reveals. That’s what “TODAY you will be with me in Paradise” means.

Let’s look at how each reading holds this tension.

THE READINGS IN CONTEXT

First Reading: 2 Samuel 5:1-3

When & Where:
Around 1000 BCE, at Hebron. Israel has been divided—Saul’s house ruled the north, David ruled Judah in the south. Now, after years of civil war, the northern tribes come to David.

What’s Happening:
This is David’s second anointing. He was already anointed privately by Samuel as a boy (1 Samuel 16), rejected by his own father as unworthy to even be presented to the prophet. Now, after proving himself as warrior and leader, all the tribes come to him and say:

“Here we are, your bone and your flesh.“

Key Insight:
Notice what makes David legitimate as king: He is their FLESH. Not distant royalty. Not a foreign ruler. “Your bone and your flesh.”

This is incarnation language. David becomes king because he’s joined to the people—their flesh, their struggle, their humanity.

And the first thing they say he will do? “You shall shepherd my people Israel.”

King = Shepherd. Authority through care, not through cosmetic power.

This reading sits under the cross like a question: If David is king because he’s “bone and flesh” with Israel, what about this King dying naked on wood? Is HE joined to our flesh?

The answer comes in Colossians.

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 122:1-2, 3-4, 4-5

When & Where:
A “Song of Ascents”—sung by pilgrims literally climbing up to Jerusalem for feast days. Jerusalem sits on a hill; you ascend to worship.

What’s Happening:
The psalm celebrates arriving at Jerusalem’s gates, and then uses a phrase that appears only once in the entire Hebrew Bible:

“Jerusalem, built as a city that is strongly compact / joined to itself.”

The Hebrew word חֻבְּרָה-לָּהּ יַחְדָּו (chuberah-lah yachdav) comes from chaver (חבר) = friend, companion, one who is JOINED.

Like the tabernacle curtains that were “joined together to be one” (Exodus 26:11).

Key Insight:
Jerusalem isn’t just joined to something else—it’s joined to ITSELF.

The Talmud interprets this: Since Jerusalem is “joined to itself,” there must be TWO Jerusalems—one earthly, one heavenly. The Hebrew name Yerushalayim (ירושלים) has a dual ending—grammatically, it’s a PAIR.

Two cities. Joined. One.

The earthly Jerusalem (where David’s throne sits, where judgment happens) and the heavenly Jerusalem (where God dwells, where Paradise is) are strongly compact together.

And today’s Gospel shows us WHERE that joining happens: on the cross.

“TODAY you will be with me in Paradise” = the criminal standing on earth enters the heavenly Jerusalem. TODAY. Joined. Compact.

Second Reading: Colossians 1:12-20

When & Where:
Paul (or a close associate) writes to the church in Colossae around 60-62 CE. This is one of the most cosmically expansive Christological hymns in Scripture.

What’s Happening:
Paul gives thanks that believers have been “delivered from the power of darkness and transferred to the kingdom of his beloved Son,” and then breaks into what scholars believe is an early Christian hymn—possibly sung in worship—about Christ’s cosmic role.

The hymn has two stanzas:

Christ and Creation (vv. 15-17): He is the image of the invisible God, firstborn of all creation, ALL THINGS created through him and FOR him, in him ALL THINGS hold together
Christ and Redemption (vv. 18-20): He is head of the church, firstborn from the dead, reconciling ALL THINGS through the blood of his cross

Key Insight:
Notice the word “ALL THINGS” (Greek: ta panta):

“In him ALL THINGS were created” (v. 16)
“ALL THINGS were created through him and for him” (v. 16)
“In him ALL THINGS hold together” (v. 17)
“Through him to reconcile ALL THINGS to himself” (v. 20)

Not just humans. Not just souls. ALL THINGS. The entire cosmos. Visible and invisible. Heaven and earth. Thrones, dominions, principalities, powers—the whole created order.

And how does this cosmic reconciliation happen? “Making peace by the blood of his cross.”

The Greek word for universe/world here is kosmos (κόσμος), which means ORDER, ARRANGEMENT—and also gives us “cosmetics” (the art of adorning/ordering/beautifying).

The cosmic King brings universal ORDER through what appears most DISORDERED: bloodshed, nakedness, execution.

He is:

“Image of the invisible God” = joins the invisible TO the visible
“Firstborn of all creation” = not chronologically first, but FOREMOST—the head, the source, the one through whom creation exists
“In him all things hold together” = He is the JOINING POINT, the glue, the compact that holds reality together

Without him, things fall apart. With him, heaven and earth are strongly compact.

And where do we see this joining most clearly? On the cross.

The place where:

Heaven meets earth
Divine meets human
Invisible becomes visible
The cosmic King appears as a dying criminal
Paradise opens TODAY

Gospel: Luke 23:35-43

When & Where:
Golgotha (Calvary), outside Jerusalem’s walls. Jesus has been condemned by both Jewish and Roman authorities and is being executed by crucifixion—the most shameful, public form of Roman execution.

What’s Happening:
Luke frames the crucifixion with three groups mocking Jesus:

The rulers sneer: “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God.”
The soldiers jeer: “If you are King of the Jews, save yourself.”
One criminal reviles: “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.”

All three say the same thing: SAVE YOURSELF. Prove your power. Do something cosmetically impressive. Show us kingship that looks like kingship.

But Jesus doesn’t respond to any of them.

He responds to the other criminal—the one who says:

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

No cosmetic offering. No impressive credentials. No performance. Just his name: “Jesus.”

And Jesus’ response:

“Amen, I say to you, TODAY you will be with me in Paradise.”

Key Insight:
This is the first citizen of the Kingdom. Not a priest. Not a disciple. Not someone who “got it right.” A dying thief who brought nothing but his broken, unadorned self.

And he enters Paradise TODAY. Not someday after purification. Not after earning it. TODAY.

Why? Because the veil has been torn (not mentioned in our Gospel reading but theologically present—Matthew 27:51, Mark 15:38, Luke 23:45).

The curtain separating the Holy of Holies (God’s presence) from the rest of the temple was 60 feet high, 4 inches thick. Only the high priest could pass through once a year.

At the moment Jesus died, God tore it from top to bottom.

The separation between heaven and earth—ended.
The barrier between God and humanity—torn open.
The cosmetic requirement for access—stripped away.

Hebrews 10:19-20: “We have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his flesh.”

The torn veil = torn flesh. Christ’s broken body IS the joining point. The place where heaven and earth become strongly compact.

Jerusalem joined to itself. The tabernacle curtains joined to be one. And now: Paradise opened TODAY.

WHERE ARE WE?

In the Biblical Narrative

David is anointed king at Hebron—the shepherd-king who is “bone and flesh” with his people.

The Psalmist sings of Jerusalem—the city “joined to itself,” where heaven and earth meet, where the tribes ascend to worship.

Paul proclaims the cosmic Christ—in whom ALL THINGS were created, through whom ALL THINGS are reconciled.

Jesus hangs on a cross—where the King of the Universe appears as a convicted criminal, and the first person into Paradise is a thief who simply says His name.

In Salvation History

This is the hinge point. The moment when:

The temple system (with its veil, its separation, its cosmetic requirements) ends
Direct access to God begins
The cosmic reconciliation (heaven/earth joined) happens

The prophets spoke of it. The Law pointed toward it. The temple foreshadowed it. And now—on this cross, in this moment, with this criminal—it arrives.

Not gradually. Not eventually. TODAY.

In the Liturgical Year

This is the last Sunday of the liturgical year. Next week we enter Advent—but not first with mangers and shepherds. Advent begins with apocalyptic watchfulness: Christ’s return in glory, the Kingdom fully realized, the parousia. The readings will echo TODAY’s cosmic scope before they eventually zoom to Bethlehem’s intimacy.

So this Sunday serves as a hinge: We celebrate the cosmic King who has already reconciled all things (Colossians), and we prepare to watch for His return to complete what He began (Advent’s opening weeks), before we remember how He first came—incarnate, in flesh, available to our senses (Advent’s final weeks and Christmas).

From throne to cross to manger to throne again. The circle completes itself. Strongly compact.

THE COMMON THREAD

Jerusalem “strongly compact”—joined to itself.

This is the image that unlocks everything.

What does it mean to be “joined to itself”?

It means holding two realities that seem opposite—and discovering they’re actually one:

Earthly Jerusalem (where David reigns, where judgment sits) + Heavenly Jerusalem (where God dwells, where Paradise is) = ONE city, strongly compact
Flesh and bone (David with his people) + Image of invisible God (Christ with creation) = ONE King, incarnate
Tabernacle curtains (multiple pieces woven together) + becoming one (Exodus 26:11) = ONE dwelling place
The veil (separating heaven from earth) + torn open (Matthew 27:51) = ONE access point
“Jesus, remember me” (criminal’s request) + “TODAY Paradise” (Christ’s response) = ONE moment of joining

Here’s what’s at stake in this “strongly compact” image:

God makes Himself available to our senses—incarnate, touchable, visible—in order to force us to look beyond our senses.

On the cross, we SEE:

A brutalized body
A convicted criminal
Public humiliation
Cosmetic failure

But we’re invited to PERCEIVE:

Paradise opening
Cosmic reconciliation
The King of the Universe
The veil torn from heaven to earth

The sensible reveals the beyond-sensible. The visible opens to the invisible.

This is the sacramental principle woven into creation itself: You cannot perceive the divine WITHOUT the flesh, but you cannot STOP at the flesh either.

Water becomes the gateway to rebirth (Baptism)
Bread becomes the vehicle for divine presence (Eucharist)
A cross becomes the throne of cosmic kingship
A dying thief’s broken plea becomes the password to Paradise

The flesh is not the destination. The flesh is the doorway.

We spend our lives trying to keep these realities separated:

The holy and the profane
The spiritual and the physical
The worthy and the unworthy
Heaven and earth
God and us

We do cosmetics (from kosmos = order/adornment)—we try to order ourselves, adorn ourselves, make ourselves look acceptable enough to cross the barrier. We stop at the surface. We perfect the visible and hope it’s enough.

But Christ the cosmic King (from kosmos = universe) brings true order not through our cosmetic efforts, but through His tearing:

Torn flesh = torn veil = torn separation = heaven and earth joined.

The torn veil means: You can’t stay in the outer court anymore. You’re invited through. Not because you perfected the surface, but because the barrier itself is gone.

The joining happens through the breaking.

And once you’re through—once you’re standing with the good thief on Golgotha, looking at brutalized flesh and somehow perceiving Paradise—you can never go back to thinking the visible is all there is.

You hold both. Strongly compact. Tent and city. Flesh and glory. TODAY and forever.

THE HUMAN REALITY

Sit with the good thief for a moment.

He’s dying. He’s in pain. He has nothing to offer. No impressive resume. No cosmetic presentation. He’s literally naked and bleeding next to Jesus.

And he doesn’t try to hide it.

The other criminal is still performing—mocking Jesus, trying to leverage the situation somehow, keeping up appearances even while dying. Still doing cosmetics.

But the good thief does something radical: He stops hiding.

He says to the other criminal: “We’ve been condemned justly. We’re getting what we deserve.” He names the truth about himself.

And then he does the only thing left: He says “Jesus, remember me.”

Not “Jesus, look at my good deeds.” Not “Jesus, I deserve this.” Not even “Jesus, forgive me.”

Just: “Remember me.”

See me. Know me. Don’t forget I existed.

And Paradise opens. TODAY.

This is the invitation of Christ the King: Stop trying to make yourself cosmetically acceptable. Stop hiding your chaos under adornment. Stop performing worthiness.

Just say His name.

The King of the Universe—who holds all things together, through whom all things were created, in whom heaven and earth are joined—remembers you.

Not because you’ve earned it. Not because you’ve perfected yourself. Not because you finally got the cosmetics right.

But because He is joined to your flesh. “Bone and your flesh.” Incarnate. With you in the suffering AND the Paradise. On earth AND in heaven.

Strongly compact. Joined to Himself. And joined to you.

BRIEF REFLECTION

We’ve gotten too comfortable with paradox. We say “fully God and fully human” without letting it undo us. We say “King of the Universe dying on a cross” without pausing to feel the impossibility.

But this Sunday, we need to let it wreck us.

The cosmos—the ordered universe—is held together by the one appearing most disordered.

The city joined to itself—heaven and earth compact—exists at the cross.

The first citizen of Paradise enters TODAY, not because he performed well, but because he stopped performing.

As we close this liturgical year and prepare first to watch for Christ’s return, then eventually to meet Him again as an infant, maybe the question is this:

Which reality are you holding?

Are you holding only the tent—only what your senses can verify, only the earthly Jerusalem, only the cosmetic presentation you can control?

Or are you holding only the city—only the spiritual, only the “someday Paradise,” only the invisible disconnected from your actual flesh?

Or are you holding BOTH—strongly compact, joined together?

Because that’s what the good thief discovered. On the worst day of his life, in his most broken moment, saying “Jesus, remember me”—and finding that Paradise was already there. TODAY.

Not someday. TODAY.

Because the veil is torn. The curtain is open. Heaven and earth are joined.

And the King of the Universe remembers your name.

INTRODUCTION TEXT (Optional Read-Aloud Before Liturgy of the Word)

“Today we celebrate Christ the King—but not as we might expect. This feast was established in 1925, when all the great earthly kingdoms had fallen after World War I. And in 1969, when humans reported to walk on the moon and the cosmos expanded beyond imagination, the Church renamed it: King of the Universe.

As we listen to today’s readings, pay attention to a single image that runs through them all: Jerusalem, ‘strongly compact,’ ‘joined to itself’—two realities, earthly and heavenly, held together as one. We will hear David anointed king because he is ‘bone and flesh’ with his people. We will hear Paul proclaim that in Christ, all things in the universe hold together and are reconciled through the cross. And we will witness the King of the Universe dying as a convicted criminal—and opening Paradise today for a thief who simply says His name.

This is the mystery we celebrate: the cosmic King who holds all creation together appears in utter brokenness. The joining happens through the tearing. Heaven and earth become one—not someday, but today—for anyone who stops trying to look acceptable and simply says, ‘Jesus, remember me.'”