Least

If a king is supposed to be a shepherd (seeking out the lost, binding up the broken, healing the sick, as Ezekiel proclaims in the first reading today), I suspect there will not be many who will want to run for king or president or CEO or leader.

On the other hand, if a king’s job is to separate the sheep from the goats (as Ezekiel again and the gospel today illustrate), you might get more aspirants to the throne, especially from those who get a kick from knowing just how powerful they could be and how wonderful it might be to be offered bribes and gifts from goats wanting to cross over.

There have been kings in our midst (from the church or civil society, from government or the corporate sector) who have not been good shepherds. I do believe as a people, we are good inside and out; we are a resilient, compassionate, grateful, spiritual, and joyful people. We are just poorly governed and we have for so long allowed ourselves to be misled and betrayed by false shepherds.

It is not mindless fate that consigns millions of sheep to the base of the pyramid to live in poverty and conflict. We are poor; we are broken because of the apathy and thievery of those who wear the rings and crowns and vestments of power.

I am hoping that the gospel story today will speak to you, especially if you who read this are a judge or a priest or lawmaker or executive or some official who holds the reins to some power over others. Ponder carefully the words of the King when he separates the sheep from the goats. Take to heart the kind of kingship that we are invited to share with Christ.

The last Sunday of the liturgical year always ends with the solemnity of Christ the King. Surely, there could be other ways to crown things at the end. One could be less bongga and just let things fizzle out, in the same way our universe seems to be expanding to some form of heat death. Or one could with some flair host a big victory bash to celebrate all that the King has won from Bethlehem to the beatific end.

Just as we are about to wind things down, we are presented with a simple, regal scene quite reminiscent of those Hogwarts wizards and their sorting hat. Only in this case, there are two houses to be sorted into: one for eternal punishment, the other for eternal life.

The problem with this kind of a binary ending is that it seems to lose traction among those of us who are still alive, even if mortally so. Walang kagat. The problem with the last judgment is that it is, well, so very last. The future can be a fuzzy thing especially if you cannot even grasp what punishment or life is, let alone what “eternal” entails.

Even if this traction or talab of the last judgment could very well be designed to sow fear and trembling before the cold and desolate fires of hell, you must understand that goats are wont to be fearless and numb.

Fear might be tactically wise for public policy. It could get you going on the “tuwid na daan.” But it will never get you into the house of eternal life.

If you look closely at the criteria used for the sorting at the very end, these are not as clear-cut as the commandments engraved on the two tablets of Moses. Beyond your mortal or venial transgressions, ultimately it is your seeking and seeing and serving that matter.

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

If a king is supposed to be a shepherd (seeking out the lost, binding up the broken, healing the sick), who then will tend the shepherd? If the king is supposed to take care of the people, who then will take care of the king?

“Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

You did for me. May we never have to wait till the very end of days to know what we need to do for one another. Whatever we do for the least among us, we do for the most high.

In the end, as it was in the beginning of the incarnation, we find this most delightful twist and intimate kinship. Such is the genius and grace of the kingship of Christ.

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Fr. Jose Ramon T Villarin SJ is President of the Ateneo de Manila University. For feedback on this column, e-mail [email protected]