
Gospel according to Saint Luke 23:35-43
The rulers sneered at Jesus and said, “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God.” Even the soldiers jeered at him. As they approached to offer him wine they called out, “If you are King of the Jews, save yourself.” Above him there was an inscription that read, “This is the King of the Jews.”
Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.” The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
The authority of suffering
Luis CASASUS President of the Idente Missionaries
Rome, November 23, 2025 | XXXIV Sunday in Ordinary Time
2Sam 5: 1-3; Col 1: 12-20; Lk 23:35-43
The solemnity of Christ the King was instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925. This feast was the Holy Father’s response to the atheistic and totalitarian regimes of his time. He wanted everyone to know that Jesus is superior to all the political and cultural ideologies aspiring to kingship at that time: fascism, Nazism, communism, psychological determinism, and practical materialism.
In ancient times, the king was not only a ceremonial figure, but had to exercise real leadership, of course in government, but also in leading the army on important military expeditions. Consequently, he proved his worth by preaching by example, leading the people and showing the way by risking his life. He made sure that his people had enough to eat and that everyone lived in harmony. For this reason, the kings of those times were highly respected and were granted absolute authority, not only because they were kings, but because of their personal authority.
Furthermore, as St. Paul reminds us in the Second Reading, the king was a source of unity for all his people. He is also the head of the body: of the Church, he tells us today when speaking of Jesus. Our missionary experience tells us how the witness of authentic unity (something that is fragile and volatile in the world) conquers hearts and opens souls to conversion. That is why we recognize that the Holy Spirit is the only agent capable of achieving and maintaining our unity. St. Paul exhorts believers to make every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace (Eph 4:3).
Creating division is easy; it is even the procedure of one nation against another. It is what powerful groups want to do, as well as separated spouses, seeking to make their son or daughter reject their father or mother. Christ, on the Cross, asks for and achieves a deeper union between his Mother and the disciple John,
The leaders and powerful people of this world surround themselves with security guards and protect themselves against the adversaries and enemies they will inevitably have. That is why, with the logic of the world, they shouted at Jesus: Save yourself! Even today, many people wonder why God does not intervene to prevent the evil suffered by innocent victims.
Reigning from the cross is more than a symbol; it is a reality that historically began with the Passion and Death of Christ. When we read the Gospel account of the crucifixion, we are often overcome by questions: Was that torture really necessary? Wouldn’t our redemption have been possible through nonviolent means? God the Father knows us deeply and knows that we are easily victims of our ideas, judgments, and preferences. And that leads us to impose them on others, in many different ways, in our eagerness to dominate everything: people, conversations, communities, etc. Let us remember that one day James and John asked Jesus: Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory (Mk 10:37).
The First Reading is an example of our permanent and universal desire to impose our ideas and desires. The elders of the northern tribes came before David and anointed him as king of all the tribes of Israel. David accepted, and thus began a great and powerful kingdom, but after Solomon succeeded him to the throne, the tribes separated again and Israel once more became a people dominated by neighboring nations. So, the dream of the Israelites in Jesus’ time was to reconstitute the great kingdom of David, and that was their constant request to Yahweh.
This is not about judging the people of Israel at that time, but rather carefully recognizing how the same desire for control manifests itself in you and me. This happens in several ways:
* As a constant worry: We try to anticipate all possible scenarios to reduce anxiety.
* With our resistance to change: We seek to maintain rigid routines and structures because the unknown generates fear. We even try to reserve some of our habits (good, bad, or neutral), our pair of sandals, our spare tunic, our precious staff, when we say we are following Christ.
* An exaggerated need for certainty: We tend to demand clear and quick answers, even in situations where ambiguity is inevitable.
* Control over others: This can manifest as wanting to decide for others, imposing opinions, or monitoring behavior suspiciously, rather than with a genuine desire to instruct and help.
* Difficulty delegating: We believe that “no one will do it as well” and responsibilities pile up, giving up on training others, which is a more delicate and demanding task that we are not always willing to undertake.
* Rigid expectations: We expect others to act according to our own internal script, which leads to frustration and aggressive impatience when this does not happen.
The problem is that these reactions weaken or nullify our state of prayer. Therefore, the lesson our hard hearts needed must have been more than words, a testimony that was frontal and violently opposed to our thirst to be first.
That is the power of the Cross of Jesus. This is how divine omnipotence manifests itself, not by coming down from the cross, as the magistrates and ignorant soldiers challenged him to do. His power is that there are no limits to his service and forgiveness. That is why he wins the friendship of the thief Dimas, who calls him Jesus, by his own name, as one calls a friend. I have always believed that the second thief also surrendered to the innocence of the Master, even though the Gospel does not mention it.
In these thieves, we see how this innocence had a profound impact, for one of them says with conviction to his companion, referring to Jesus: This man has done nothing wrong. The same thing happened to the soldiers at the foot of the cross; the Roman centurion, representative of pagan power, recognized Jesus’ innocence and divinity and glorified God, saying: Truly this man was righteous (Lk 23:47). Even the most cruel, those who mocked Jesus in the midst of his terrible pain, recognized in him that he saved others.
—ooOoo—
There are many historical examples, and examples around us, of how suffering for fidelity to the truth reinforces the authority of the one who suffers. The credibility of a prophet, of an apostle, does not lie in apparent human success, but in perseverance in the midst of opposition.
Seven centuries before Christ, in a small village in Judea, a young man named Jeremiah heard a voice that overwhelmed him: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I consecrated you. It was not just any voice; it was the voice of God calling him to be a prophet. Jeremiah trembled, because he knew that the words he was to proclaim would not be sweet, but harsh and difficult for many people to accept.
At first, people looked at him with disdain. You are too young, they said. But he spoke of destruction, of injustice, of a God who could no longer bear lies. His words were like a hammer striking rock. And that is why they hated him. They locked him in damp prisons, beat him, accused him of being a traitor. Even his friends abandoned him. Jeremiah wept silently, asking God why he had chosen him for such a bitter mission.
However, every time he tried to remain silent, he felt a burning fire within him, a fire he could not extinguish. I said, “I will not speak in his name anymore.” But there was a burning fire in my heart, locked in my bones, and I grew weary of holding it back (Jer 20:9). That fire compelled him to rise up, to continue proclaiming, even though his body was weary and his soul was wounded.
Over time, the people understood that this suffering man was not speaking for himself, but for God. His pain became authority. His tears were real, his voice was authentic. Jeremiah was not heard by everyone, but his faithfulness made him a witness to the fact that truth, even if it hurts, is stronger than lies.
During the Audience on November 8, Pope Leo XIV presented the figure of Blessed Isidore Bakanja, who was beatified in 1994 and is the patron saint of the laity of the Congo. Born in 1885, when his country was a Belgian colony, he did not go to school because there was none in his town and became an apprentice bricklayer. He became friends with Catholic missionaries, the Trappist monks: they told him about Jesus, and at the age of twenty, he decided to follow Christian instruction and receive baptism.
From that moment on, his witness became increasingly luminous. While working as a farmhand for an unscrupulous employer who could not stand his faith and authenticity, he remained faithful to Christ. The employer hated Christianity and the missionaries who defended the indigenous people from the abuses of the colonizers, but Isidore wore his scapular with the image of the Virgin Mary around his neck until the end, enduring all kinds of mistreatment and torture without losing hope. Isidore died without holding a grudge and praying for his persecutors.
Those who are faithful to Christ, who seek to imitate him in service and self-denial, may not always “change society,” but they will be instruments so that, in each person, sooner or later, right now or at the end of their lives, God’s plan of redemption will be fulfilled. That is the triumph of the Kingdom of Heaven. That is why we say that the crucifixion is the most glorious moment in the life of Jesus Christ.
In the same vein, Saint Luke tells us a few paragraphs later: All the crowds who had gathered for this spectacle, remembering what had happened, turned back and beat their breasts (Lk 23:48).
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In the Sacred Hearts of Jesus, Mary and Joseph,
Luis CASASUS
President









