“The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.” (Rev. 11:15)

Such is the final truth, the final decree of the seventh trumpet. It is the truth we acknowledge on the solemnity of Christ the King, but which is true every day. It’s truth before which the angels and elders of heaven prostrate themselves in praise—before the just wrath and truth of God, before Christ the everlasting King.

It’s true whatever the epoch and whatever the madness. Above politics, above economics, above whatever you or I think, it’s what has always been and always will be true—and that’s Christ and his teachings, the verity and authority of which require not our approval, only our obedience. This is what we must accept if we will continue to dare to call Jesus King or Lord with anything like integrity—if we’re not to make our praise of Jesus a mockery and merely the preface of our judgment.

The Solemnity of Christ the King is a rather serious feast. It calls into question the authenticity of our religious language, the authenticity of our praise. Do we really mean it when we call him a king? Is he really our Lord? If so, then why do we barely listen to him, even less, heed him? This is the question this feast puts to us—What sort of Christians are we?—rightly a haunting question, especially for those of us who rather easily and selectively discard certain teachings of the Gospel and of the Church.

To be a Catholic Christian is to be obedient, a genuine subject of Christ. It’s to be obedient to his word and to the Church, which is the King’s bride. Whether you like this or not, it matters little, because whatever we think, it’s the truth. And it’s what’s presented in this solemnity, the truth that will be revealed then—when the “Son of Man comes in his glory.” (Mtt. 25:31)