Our beloved national holiday of Thanksgiving recalls Plymouth Colony in 1621. The 53 surviving pilgrims of the Mayflower expedition had put themselves outside of the King’s protection and faced the wilderness alone. They had turned to the King of Kings for protection, but more than half of them died that first winter. God’s ways are mysteries.
The Mayflower Puritans had their issues, one of which (obtuseness) would lead to a series of “witch trials” in a town they founded six years after Plymouth called “Salem.” The Puritans loathed the Church that their Lord had established, which was in great need of reform then (as it is today, and ever will be). For all their issues, the Mayflower Puritans were pilgrims, seekers of truth, goodness, and beauty. When they landed at Plymouth Rock in November of 1620, they were the seventh attempted English colony in the New World, and the second attempt at Plymouth itself. All the rest had perished, and half of the Mayflower travelers would die that first year. But the King of Kings provided Squanto, a Native American brave who had been sold as a slave by the Spanish, escaped to England with the help of some Dominican friars, and converted to Catholicism. He served as translator and advocate for the Plymouth colonists to the native tribes around them. Through Squanto’s good will, the Wampanoag tribe helped the Puritans survive that first winter, and together they gave thanks to the Great King and the Great Spirit.
Despite our Puritan obstinacy, our anti-authoritarian, “question authority” mindset, even Americans yearn to live under the rule of a good king. Some of you watched the deeply-moving coronation of King Charles III last May. The Archbishop of Canterbury lifts the crown toward God and prays: “King of Kings and Lord of Lords, bless, we beseech thee, this crown, and so sanctify thy servant Charles, upon whose head this day thou dost place it….” The Archbishop then gently places the bejeweled crown upon the frail old man’s head to shouts of “God save the King!” It is clear throughout this ceremony, one of the last and most impressive vestiges of Christendom, who the King is. Christ is the King, and Charles is his viceroy. God is the Sovereign, and Charles is his emissary. Today we thank God, as pilgrims, in our great national holiday.
Today our nation thanks God, and on Sunday our Church acclaims Christ the King in the great Mass entitled in Festo Domini Nostri Jesu Christi Regis. All human authority is subject to this King. In 1976 a smiling peanut farmer from Georgia was running for President of the United States, and I was a freshman in high school. My imagination was fired by his words and I believed in this man! I appointed myself Jimmy Carter’s campaign manager for Big Spring High School and posted his gladsome image in every hallway. He won, and he wasn’t that bad as modern presidents go (it’s awfully hard to be a U.S. President these days), but he didn’t live up to my exalted expectations. Two years into his presidency I won an essay contest and joined high school students from around the country in Washington, where the President of the United States spoke to us in the Rose Garden. Seeing this exalted man in the flesh, I was surprised to find him so frail, and so unsure of himself. I remember him nervously licking his lips every few seconds, and this was only in front of a group of pimply high schoolers! I realized that the President of the United States is only a man of flesh. I realized that he must appeal to a Higher Authority as much as, and even more than, the rest of us. Today, we frail men and women give thanks to that Higher Power, rejoicing to be subjects of the Great King who can do no wrong. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
The Mayflower Puritans had their issues, one of which (obtuseness) would lead to a series of “witch trials” in a town they founded six years after Plymouth called “Salem.” The Puritans loathed the Church that their Lord had established, which was in great need of reform then (as it is today, and ever will be). For all their issues, the Mayflower Puritans were pilgrims, seekers of truth, goodness, and beauty. When they landed at Plymouth Rock in November of 1620, they were the seventh attempted English colony in the New World, and the second attempt at Plymouth itself. All the rest had perished, and half of the Mayflower travelers would die that first year. But the King of Kings provided Squanto, a Native American brave who had been sold as a slave by the Spanish, escaped to England with the help of some Dominican friars, and converted to Catholicism. He served as translator and advocate for the Plymouth colonists to the native tribes around them. Through Squanto’s good will, the Wampanoag tribe helped the Puritans survive that first winter, and together they gave thanks to the Great King and the Great Spirit.
Despite our Puritan obstinacy, our anti-authoritarian, “question authority” mindset, even Americans yearn to live under the rule of a good king. Some of you watched the deeply-moving coronation of King Charles III last May. The Archbishop of Canterbury lifts the crown toward God and prays: “King of Kings and Lord of Lords, bless, we beseech thee, this crown, and so sanctify thy servant Charles, upon whose head this day thou dost place it….” The Archbishop then gently places the bejeweled crown upon the frail old man’s head to shouts of “God save the King!” It is clear throughout this ceremony, one of the last and most impressive vestiges of Christendom, who the King is. Christ is the King, and Charles is his viceroy. God is the Sovereign, and Charles is his emissary. Today we thank God, as pilgrims, in our great national holiday.
Today our nation thanks God, and on Sunday our Church acclaims Christ the King in the great Mass entitled in Festo Domini Nostri Jesu Christi Regis. All human authority is subject to this King. In 1976 a smiling peanut farmer from Georgia was running for President of the United States, and I was a freshman in high school. My imagination was fired by his words and I believed in this man! I appointed myself Jimmy Carter’s campaign manager for Big Spring High School and posted his gladsome image in every hallway. He won, and he wasn’t that bad as modern presidents go (it’s awfully hard to be a U.S. President these days), but he didn’t live up to my exalted expectations. Two years into his presidency I won an essay contest and joined high school students from around the country in Washington, where the President of the United States spoke to us in the Rose Garden. Seeing this exalted man in the flesh, I was surprised to find him so frail, and so unsure of himself. I remember him nervously licking his lips every few seconds, and this was only in front of a group of pimply high schoolers! I realized that the President of the United States is only a man of flesh. I realized that he must appeal to a Higher Authority as much as, and even more than, the rest of us. Today, we frail men and women give thanks to that Higher Power, rejoicing to be subjects of the Great King who can do no wrong. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
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