“It is necessary that Christ reign” (1 Cor 15, 25)
On Sunday, October 25, 1925, in the midst of the Holy Year, the Church celebrated for the first time the feast of Christ King of the Universe, instituted by Pope Pius XI with the encyclical Quas Primas, dated December 11, 1924. That luminous document, born “from the ardent desire to bring to humanity the peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ” (Quas Primas, 1), was an echo and extension of his first encyclical Ubi Arcano Dei Consilio (1922), where he taught that “there can be no true peace of Christ except in the Kingdom of Christ.”
Pius XI understood with clarity that the drama of the modern world lay in having wanted to build society while disregarding God: “The greatest evil of our time consists in having removed Christ and his holy law from the life of men and society; and there is no hope of lasting peace as long as individuals and States refuse to submit to the empire of the Savior.” (Quas Primas, 24).
For this reason, he instituted an annual feast that would remind the world of Christ’s sovereignty not only in the spiritual order but also in the temporal, for “there is no difference between individuals and the domestic or civil society: all must recognize and obey the dominion of Christ” (ibid., 18). His kingship encompasses “minds, which must submit to his truth; wills, which must obey his laws; hearts, which must burn with his love; and bodies, which must serve him in chastity and modesty” (ibid., 33).
The institution of this feast had a clearly apostolic purpose: “The more Christ is denied and his authority repudiated in public life, the more urgent it is that the faithful proclaim his kingship with public and solemn profession of faith.” (ibid., 25).
From then on, the liturgy of the last Sunday of October resounded with the vigor of a social consecration: «Omnia instaurare in Christo». Christ the King was not only a future hope but an active presence in history; the divine-human Heart of an interior and public Law that should inspire consciences, families, institutions, and peoples.
Throughout the century that has passed, a succession of ideologies hostile to the Cross has sought to dethrone Christ and supplant His sweet empire of Love. First the atheistic totalitarianism, materialistic communism, and pagan nationalism, which turned the State into an idol and the person into a slave. Then liberal secularism, which dreamed of expelling God from the public sphere in the name of a neutrality that soon revealed itself as hostile. Later, moral and cultural relativism, which dissolved truth into opinion and freedom into whim. Today, transhumanism and technocratic ideology, which seek to remake man without God and reduce him to product and algorithm.
But Pius XI had announced the outcome: “When men understand that Christ must reign in their mind, in their heart, in their will, and in their social life, then humanity will enjoy true freedom, peace, and concord.” (ibid., 19). And so it will be. All those systems will fall, one after another, into the abyss of oblivion and moral failure; their prophets will fade away, but the scepter of Christ—humble and glorious—will continue to extend mysteriously over the universe, because “it is necessary that He reign until He puts all His enemies under His feet” (1 Cor 15, 25).
The century that followed Quas Primas was also the century of the martyrs of Christ the King. In Mexico, the Cristeros died proclaiming: “Long live Christ the King! Long live Saint Mary of Guadalupe!”. In Spain, during the religious persecution of the 1930s, ten thousand martyrs sealed their fidelity with the same cry on their lips. They understood what the Pope had written: that “the Kingdom of Christ is not sustained by arms, but by truth and charity” (ibid., 15).
One hundred years later, the message retains its ardor and its drama. In a world that renounces its Creator, the words of Pius XI ring out like a sadly fulfilled prophecy: “Remove Christ from the laws, from the schools, from the family, and human society will be dragged back into chaos and ruin.” (ibid., 28). Humanity, exhausted by ideologies and false promises, continues to need “the peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ.”
After the liturgical reform following the Second Vatican Council, this feast was moved from the last Sunday of October to the last of November, at the close of the liturgical year. The change in the collects sought to emphasize the eschatological aspect of Christ’s reign so much that, in practice, the vigor of its social and temporal dimension, masterfully expounded in Quas Primas, was diluted. And thus, in the majority of pulpits, the ancient apostolic clamor has been replaced by four diffuse and flabby ideas about the future Kingdom, overlooking the solid doctrinal content, so consoling and challenging, so virilely Christian, that Pius XI sought to imprint on the celebration of Christ the King.
For this reason, more than ever, it is fitting to return to the sources, to the clarity of that prophetic text that united theology with history, liturgy with action, contemplation with apostleship. And with the same words with which the Pope closed his encyclical, to implore today once again: “O Christ Jesus, I acknowledge you as King universal! Renew us with your grace, subject families and nations to your sweet empire, so that the voice of the whole world may proclaim: blessed be the divine Heart that has given us salvation; to Him be glory and honor for ever and ever. Amen.” (Quas Primas, 29).
Long live Christ the King!
Long live Saint Mary of Guadalupe!
May His Kingdom of truth and life, holiness and grace, justice, love, and peace extend throughout the earth until the entire universe confesses: “The earth is the Lord’s and all that fills it.” (Ps 24, 1).
Mons. Alberto José González Chaves