Christ the King — The Rule of Christ in Every Part of Life
Tonight we close the Church’s year with her final and most decisive word:
Jesus Christ is King.
Everything the Church has proclaimed, every mystery she has celebrated,
leads to this declaration — that the One who was born in Bethlehem,
who died on Calvary, and who rose on Easter morning
is not only Saviour but Sovereign.
He is not one voice among many; He is the voice through whom all creation came to be.
To call Him “King” is not simply to use a title of honour;
it is to acknowledge the true structure of the universe.
All things were made through Him, and in Him all things hold together.
That means that nothing in our lives — not our time, our choices,
our relationships, or our morality — stands outside His rule.
Christ’s kingship is not a Sunday idea; it is a total claim.
He is either Lord of all, or He is not Lord at all.
We live in an age that loves Jesus the healer, the teacher, the kind man —
but hesitates before Jesus the King.
The world will accept spirituality as long as it doesn’t demand obedience.
It will tolerate faith, provided it remains private.
But the Feast of Christ the King shatters that illusion.
It proclaims that Christ’s authority reaches from the stars in heaven
to the smallest decision of the human heart.
It is a kingship that embraces every part of life.
Let’s begin with time.
Every minute we are given is a gift from the King.
To recognise His rule over our time means learning to use it as He wills —
not merely filling our days, but ordering them toward love.
When we set aside time for prayer, for Mass, for service,
we are not losing time but sanctifying it.
The Sabbath principle still stands: when we give God His rightful share of time,
the rest of life falls into harmony.
But when time becomes self-centred — when every hour is “mine” —
life begins to unravel.
To let Christ rule our time is to make space for eternity within the day.
Then come our choices.
The modern world insists that freedom means doing whatever we please.
But the Gospel teaches that true freedom is the power to choose the good.
Christ’s rule over our decisions does not limit freedom — it liberates it.
Every moral law He gives is not a fence around joy,
but a pathway toward it.
When He commands, “Love your enemies,” or “Forgive seventy times seven,”
He is not binding us — He is freeing us from bitterness and revenge.
The commandments are not chains but signposts;
they point the way home to the heart of God.
To live under Christ’s rule is to find that obedience and happiness are not opposites.
They are, in fact, the same road.
Next are our relationships.
Christ’s kingship reaches into how we treat one another.
If He is Lord, then gossip, resentment, or cruelty cannot remain in His kingdom.
We cannot kneel before His altar on Sunday
and ignore the poor, the lonely, or the broken on Monday.
To live under His rule means that every encounter —
in family life, friendships, work, and community —
must bear the mark of His love.
The way we speak, the way we forgive, the way we serve —
all of it reveals whether He truly reigns in us.
When Christ is King of the heart, peace begins to spread outward like light.
His reign grows one act of mercy at a time.
And finally, morality — perhaps the hardest area to surrender.
Modern culture tells us morality is a matter of opinion,
something each person invents for themselves.
But if Christ is King, then truth is not negotiable.
Right and wrong are not decided by majority vote,
nor by feelings or fashion.
They are grounded in the nature of God Himself.
To say “Jesus is Lord” is to accept that His Word judges our words,
His truth corrects our ideas,
and His Church speaks with His authority.
This is why the saints were willing to stand against emperors and mobs —
because they knew there is only one true throne.
When conscience and Christ agree, the soul finds peace;
when they part, life fragments.
To submit our morality to Christ is not moral slavery but spiritual sanity.
It restores harmony between what we are and what we were made for.
Christ’s kingship is not like that of the world.
He does not rule from a palace but from a Cross.
His crown is thorns; His sceptre is mercy.
He reigns not by force but by forgiveness.
And yet, His dominion is the only one that will last.
Earthly rulers rise and fall, nations flourish and fade —
but His Kingdom of grace endures forever.
When we let Him rule our hearts,
we begin even now to live the life of heaven.
At every Mass we kneel before the throne of the Lamb.
The altar is the place where His reign is renewed —
where the King offers Himself to His people.
When we receive the Eucharist, we receive not only His Body and Blood
but His authority, His peace, His mission.
We are sent out as citizens of His Kingdom,
to make His mercy visible in the world.
So tonight, before this altar,
ask yourself: does Christ truly reign in every part of my life?
Over my time — how I spend it?
Over my choices — what I love?
Over my relationships — how I forgive?
Over my morality — what I believe to be right and wrong?
If there is any part of life that resists His rule,
that is the place He most wants to enter.
The world changes when hearts surrender.
The Kingdom of God begins wherever a person says,
“Lord, not my will, but Yours be done.”
That is the anthem of the saints and the charter of His realm.
So lift up your hearts,
for the King is here — not distant, but present;
not demanding, but giving;
not ruling with fear, but reigning in love.
Let Him rule your time, your choices, your relationships, your morality —
and your life will become a small reflection of His Kingdom.
Vivat Christus Rex — Long live Christ the King!