Dear Friends,

This coming week, we conclude our liturgical year with the celebration of “Christ the King” Sunday. Some of you may know that this feast day was established in 1925 by Pope Pius XI in response to a world marked by rising nationalism, antisemitism, and secularism. That year, Adolf Hitler published Mein Kampf, and the Ku Klux Klan, with over 5 million members, held a massive march in Washington. Amid the aftermath of World War I and growing nationalist sentiment, Pius sought to counter these movements by proclaiming Christ’s kingship over all creation, urging Christians to prioritize their allegiance to Christ above national loyalties or cultural ideologies.

As we stand in the wake of our national elections, I am struck by how history repeats itself and how the idea of an alternate allegiance to Christ raises deep questions for us today. What does it mean to have Christ as a king? For those of us who have never lived under a monarchy, what does the language of reign and kingdom even mean? Furthermore, what did Jesus mean when he spoke of himself as a king? What was Jesus’ understanding of his kingship?

In our Gospel reading for this Sunday, we get a glimpse of the answer. We find Jesus standing before Pontius Pilate, being questioned as if facing a final exam. Pilate distills his concerns about Jesus into one fundamental question—the key question for all of us: “Who are you, Jesus, and what are you doing here?”

As I reflect on this question, especially in these chaotic times, I realize how easy it is to forget why we are here and who we are meant to be. Are we to be leaders or followers? Radical reformers or spiritual guides? Disrupters or healers? What is the nature of the “kingdom” we want to call home? Who are we, really? And how shall we represent ourselves?

Here’s how Jesus answers: “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.” To speak truth to whoever listens.

More and more, I’m aware of how far I still have to go to really hear the truth, to speak the truth, and to become more in tune with who God is and who I am. I wonder if that’s true for you as well. The longer I serve as a priest, the more I see that people either grow more generous of heart, less fearful of change, and more aligned with love, or they do not. I’m still trying to understand why some move in one direction and others in the opposite. I’m not sure I’ll ever figure this out, but one thing I know for sure is that we have a choice, with God’s help.

So, as we enter a new liturgical year and begin the journey with Jesus once again, I leave you with this question: Who will you and I become? And why are we here?

In Christ,

Amelie+