Christ the King at 100: A Century-Old Feast for a Modern Age in Crisis
- Nov 24
- 9 min read

Yesterday, the Church celebrated the Feast of Christ the King, a solemnity that holds a profound and urgent message for our times. This year marks exactly one hundred years since Pope Pius XI established the feast in his landmark encyclical Quas Primas in 1925. Born in an age of social upheaval, collapsing political orders, secularist ambitions, and the rise of totalitarian states, the Feast of Christ the King was instituted as a reminder: no earthly government, no passing ideology, and no human power holds the final authority over the human person. Only Christ rules with a Kingship that endures.
One hundred years later, that message has not faded. If anything, it burns with greater clarity. We stand again in an age of spiritual fragmentation, confusion of truth, widespread unbelief, social tensions, assaults on faith and family, and the growing illusion that humanity can rule itself without God. Many Catholics today feel pressured to keep their faith private, reduced to a sentimental feeling rather than a reality with public consequence.
But Christ the King is not sentimental. His Kingship is not symbolic. His dominion is real, universal, and eternal.
This feast is not only a liturgical observance but a challenge: Who truly rules my life, my family, my decisions, my beliefs, my hopes, and my future? Do I live as if Christ is King, or as if I am the master of my own kingdom?
As we mark this centenary, the Church invites us not merely to celebrate, but to examine ourselves, to awaken, and to return with conviction to the One whose throne is not won by force, but whose crown is purchased with His own blood.
I. Why the Feast Was Established: A World Forgetting Its King
When Pope Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King, the world was suffering not merely material crises, but spiritual ones. The First World War had left Europe wounded and directionless. New ideologies were emerging—totalitarian nationalism, radical secularism, atheistic communism—all promising salvation, freedom, equality, or progress apart from God. The human longing for meaning was redirected from the eternal to the political, from the divine to the temporal.
Pope Pius XI diagnosed the problem clearly: humanity had forgotten God. In Quas Primas, he observed that the world’s descent into war, division, and spiritual emptiness was not random—it was the direct consequence of secularisation. When God is dethroned from society, the dignity of the person collapses, because we forget not only who God is, but who we are.
This is why the Feast of Christ the King was not created merely as a devotional celebration, but as a theological correction. It is a proclamation:
Christ has authority over nations and rulers.
Christ has authority over laws and political decisions.
Christ has authority over families, cultures, morals, and societies.
Christ has authority over every human heart.
No throne may stand indefinitely against the throne of God.
The Pope insisted that peace comes not from political systems, but from recognising Christ as King. “When men recognise, both in private and public life, that Christ is King,” he wrote, “then society will at last receive the great blessings of real liberty, well-ordered discipline, peace and harmony.”
This message is no less necessary today, for once again the human world is trying to create its future apart from its Creator.
II. A Century Later: Are We Any Different?
One hundred years have passed. Have we learned?
In many ways, we are now living the logical consequences of the same rejection that Pope Pius XI warned against. The modern age, convinced of its autonomy, has declared independence not only from Christian faith, but increasingly from objective truth, moral law, and even reason itself. What we see around us now is a new battlefield—less visible, but no less real.
Governments legislate as if morality can be rewritten.
Education systems often form children without reference to the Creator.
Public discourse treats faith as irrelevant or backwards.
Technology promises to solve every problem while uprooting us from ourselves.
Many Catholics live as if faith is private, private as opinion, private as lifestyle.
We speak much today about “identity,” yet so many are lost precisely because without God, the foundation of identity dissolves.
Who am I?
Why do I exist?
What is good and evil?
What is the meaning of suffering?
What is a human being?
Without Christ, humanity becomes a riddle without a solution. Deep within the modern crisis is the same ancient one: a world attempting to dethrone God in order to enthrone ourselves. Saint Augustine diagnosed this long ago: the city of man is built on the love of self even to the contempt of God; the City of God is built on the love of God even to the contempt of self.
By choosing the ‘self’ as ruler, we have created an age anxious, restless, and spiritually exhausted. Christ the King returns today to remind the modern world of this eternal truth:
Only one throne fits the human heart, and it is not our own.
When we enthrone ourselves, we inevitably fall. When we enthrone Christ, we become free.
III. Christ’s Kingship: Not of This World, Yet Ruler of All
When Jesus stood before Pilate, bloodied and crowned with thorns, the Roman governor asked Him, “Are You the King of the Jews?” Jesus replied that His Kingdom is not of this world—not meaning it is absent from the world, but that it does not originate from earthly power. His kingship is of divine origin.
Kings of this world command armies. Christ conquered by sacrifice. Kings of this world reign for a time. Christ reigns eternally. Kings of this world defend their throne with violence. Christ claims His throne by giving Himself fully away.
The Book of Revelation calls Him “King of kings and Lord of lords,” a title that recognises His total dominion. He reigns:
Over creation, as its Maker.
Over history, as its Lord.
Over the Church, as its Head.
Over the human soul, as its rightful King.
Even the Cross itself is His throne. The inscription above His head revealed the truth: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.”
On Calvary, the King mounted His throne and transformed execution into coronation.
Saint Cyril of Jerusalem taught that Jesus reigns from the Cross as a King stretching out His hands to embrace the world. Saint John Chrysostom declared that the victory of Christ is won not by destroying enemies but by transforming them. Saint Thomas Aquinas taught that the Kingship of Christ is grounded in the fact that He is the Word through whom all things were made.
This kingship is not fiction. It is cosmic reality.
The world may ignore it. Governments may deny it. Societies may forget it. But Christ remains King, not by election, not by popularity, not by force, but by divine right and eternal truth.
The question is not whether Christ is King. The only question is whether we acknowledge Him.
IV. A Feast that Confronts Our Age
For many Catholics, the Feast of Christ the King may seem like a beautiful celebration—processions, hymns, vestments, and Holy Scripture. But the feast is more than ceremonial. It is confrontational. It demands decision. It calls us to choose our allegiance.
We live in an age that encourages a belief in God without obedience to God. Christ as friend, but not Lord. Christ as comfort, but not commander. A Kingdom in which every believer acts as their own moral authority.
This feast shatters that illusion.
To proclaim Christ as King is to admit:
I am not my own master.
Truth is not self-invented.
Morality is not subjective.
The purpose of human life is not self-fulfilment, but holiness.
Salvation is not achieved by self, but received through grace.
This challenges the modern worldview at its roots.
The early Christians understood this. To say “Jesus is Lord” was to reject Caesar. Many early martyrs died because they refused to burn incense to the Emperor—a small gesture politically, but theologically catastrophic. The Emperor could not claim the worship due to God. To deny Christ’s Kingship, even symbolically, was unthinkable.
Today, our Caesars are not emperors but ideologies, cultural pressures, public opinion, fear of rejection, personal autonomy, or comfort. Yet the challenge remains identical:
Who is King? Christ, or something else?
Every generation must answer this anew.
V. The Kingship of Christ Over the Human Person
Christ reigns not by coercion but by invitation. His Kingdom is offered, not imposed. But the human soul must respond. The Kingship of Christ becomes real in the world only when He becomes King in each heart.
Pope Pius XI wrote that Christ must reign:
In our minds – accepting His truth.
In our wills – obeying His commands.
In our hearts – loving Him above all things.
In our bodies – living in holiness.
This is deeply countercultural. For many people today, Christianity is reduced to emotion, identity, or cultural heritage. But authentic discipleship requires nothing less than transformation.
Christ cannot be King if:
sin rules the soul,
pride rules the heart,
ideology rules the mind,
comfort directs the will.
The first territory that Christ must conquer is the human interior. The throne room is the conscience. The battlefield is the daily choices of life—how I speak, how I think, how I work, how I pray, how I treat others, what entertainment I consume, what ambitions I hold, and where I go for truth.
Every sin is an act of rebellion against the King. Every sacrifice made in love is a step deeper into His Kingdom.
Saint Ignatius of Loyola described Christian life as a choice between two banners—the banner of Christ and the banner of the enemy. Every decision draws us closer to one or the other.
The Feast of Christ the King, therefore, is not a mere remembrance. It is an examination of conscience.
Is Christ the King of my prayer life?
Is Christ the King of my marriage and family?
Is Christ the King of my speech and behaviour online?
Is Christ the King of my work and ambitions?
Is Christ the King in what I read, watch, and support?
Is Christ the King of how I use my time?
If the answer is “not fully,” then the feast becomes a call to conversion.
VI. The Kingship of Christ and the Last Things
The Feast of Christ the King comes at the end of the liturgical year for a reason: it is the final word. History is not circular, drifting endlessly. History is going somewhere. The Kingdom of Christ will be revealed when He returns in glory to judge the living and the dead.
Modern society avoids the topics of judgement, death, heaven, and hell. Yet the Gospel is clear: every human life will answer to Christ. Every earthly kingdom, every ruler, every civilisation, every ideology, every personal decision will stand before His throne. The question on that day will be:
Did you love Me, and did you follow Me?
This is not a source of fear but of hope. Justice will be done. Evil will not have the final word. Every tear will be wiped away. The martyrs will be vindicated. The faithful will be received into the eternal Kingdom.
To proclaim Christ as King is to confess that history has a direction, life has a purpose, and God will not be mocked. Our world is not drifting toward chaos—it is moving toward Christ.
VII. A Call to Conversion on the 100th Anniversary
The centenary of the Feast of Christ the King is not a historical milestone—it is a spiritual summons. The Church is not asking us merely to look backward to 1925, but to look inward and forward. What was true then is true now:
The world needs Christ.
All Christians must live their faith publicly and courageously.
Truth must be proclaimed, not hidden.
Conversion must be personal and societal.
Christ must reign not only in churches, but in human lives.
Pope Pius XI wrote that peace comes when individuals and nations recognise Christ as King. Without Him, peace is temporary and fragile. With Him, peace is rooted in eternal truth.
This anniversary is therefore a moment to recommit.
To adore Christ in the Holy Eucharist.
To confess Christ in the workplace and public sphere.
To live a Catholic identity with conviction.
To renew prayer in the home.
To place God at the centre of decisions.
The world has enough Christians in name. It needs Christians in truth—Christians who, like the martyrs, like the saints, like the early disciples, can say with their lives:
“Jesus is Lord.”
VIII. Long Live Jesus Christ our King
One hundred years ago, Pope Pius XI established the Feast of Christ the King because the world was drifting away from God. Today, that drift has become a current but the solution remains unchanged. Not new philosophies. Not new political systems. Not new programs. But a return to the One whose dominion is everlasting.
Christ does not seek only to inspire us, He seeks to reign. He does not want a corner of our hearts, He wants the throne. He does not ask for admiration, He asks for obedience born of love.
The modern world needs Christ not as symbol, but as Sovereign.
For where Christ rules, the human person discovers dignity.
Where Christ rules, families rediscover unity.
Where Christ rules, societies rediscover truth.
Where Christ rules, peace becomes possible.
Where Christ rules, the human heart finds rest.
This feast, a hundred years after its institution, remains a challenge, a comfort, and a commission. Let us enthrone Him again in our hearts, in our homes, in our parishes, in our society, and in our world.
Long live Christ the King! 👑 🙏




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