The Heart of Advent: Staying Awake and Ready for Jesus’ Arrival 

Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

A reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 24:37-44 

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, 

Today I want to share with you the story of my best friend, Mark—a man who, like many of us, always considered himself a person of faith. Mark was faithful to Mass, devoted to service, and kept his rosary close by. Then came that dreadful day: his company downsized, and he lost his job. Suddenly, his world was turned upside down. 

Job hunting became his entire focus. Mark poured over online applications, crafted cover letters, hustled every hour of the day, skipping meals, and convincing himself that Sundays were too precious to spend at church. “I’ll pray later,” he thought. “Right now, I have to work.” Sound familiar? Life’s uncertain moments can shake us, and when our routine is upended, it’s all too easy to assume we’ll come back to God—once life is less complicated. 

But weeks of rejection wore Mark down. His faith felt distant; his hope, almost gone. It took a caring friend from church to reach out, listen, and gently remind Mark that we need God most when we feel out of control—not because God will solve our troubles instantly, but because He promises to walk with us through them. Jesus calls us to “stay awake”—not to let worry, fear, or busyness blanket our faith. 

That very night, Mark picked up his rosary, dusted off his prayer life, and asked not for a job, but for peace. The next day he went back to Mass. Being there, he noticed something different—something softer and clearer in the choir’s song, something opening up inside himself. In the weeks that followed, Mark rebuilt his rhythm of prayer, reconnected with his community, and felt his anxiety begin to loosen its grip. 

A new job eventually came, through a connection he made at church—one he’d have missed if he’d stayed isolated. But looking back, Mark realized that the real transformation wasn’t finding work. It was learning to stay awake to God’s presence, preparing his heart for Jesus’ arrival in ways he’d almost overlooked. And it made all the difference. 

Continue reading
Thank you for sharing!

With Jesus in Paradise: The Gospel of Hope and Mercy for All

Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

A reflection on the Gospel of Luke 23:35-43

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Today’s Gospel from Luke 23 draws us into one of the most astounding moments in Scripture: the crucifixion, where Jesus, suffering and mocked, reveals the true nature of His kingship. Let me share a story from a Catholic prison chaplain, Father Mark, whose ministry on death row embodies the transforming hope of this Gospel.

Father Mark visited men living with regret, some convinced they were beyond God’s forgiveness. One man, John, had always refused to see a priest, insisting he was too far gone. As his last days approached, John finally asked to talk, not about his crime, but about the smallest hope that God might still care for him. During their meeting, John quietly asked, “Could God really remember me?”

Father Mark turned to today’s Gospel and told him of the Good Thief—Dismas—who, nailed beside Jesus and condemned, found the courage to say, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus, in turn, offered pure grace: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” On the day of John’s execution, Father Mark repeated those words as he gave the last rites. In that moment, the Kingdom of God shone through, a kingdom of unearned hope and mercy, even behind prison walls.

Continue reading
Thank you for sharing!

Christ the King: The Capstone of the Liturgical Year

Every year, just as the trees go bare and the culture rushes toward Black Friday, the Church places a very different celebration before us: The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. The title is long, but the meaning is simple. Before we begin Advent and once again wait for His coming, we pause to proclaim that Christ already reigns.

For many Catholics who aren’t familiar with the details of the liturgical calendar, this feast can feel like a quiet “bonus Sunday” before Advent. Yet the Church is doing something intentional here. She is reminding us that whatever chaos or confusion we see in the world, Christ is still King. Not metaphorically or symbolically, but truly.

And the more I’ve prayed with this feast (often while my kids ask if the celebration means donuts after Mass), the more I’ve realized it is one of the most needed solemnities of our time.

The King Who Comes in Clouds, Not Castles

The first reading for the feast is striking. Daniel 7:13 describes a mysterious figure, “one like a Son of Man, coming on the clouds of heaven,” who receives dominion, glory, and kingship from the Ancient of Days. His kingdom never fades, never fractures, and never collapses like the kingdoms of Babylon, Rome, or any modern political system we place our hopes in.

Revelation echoes this vision and calls Christ the “faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and ruler of the kings of the earth.” This King does not need a golden throne. His throne is the Cross. He does not rule by force. He rules by love that conquers sin, death, and everything that harms the human heart.

In the Gospel we meet Pilate, the representative of Roman power. On paper, Pilate is in control and Jesus is the prisoner. Yet the roles feel reversed. Pilate wavers. Jesus remains steady. Pilate asks questions. Jesus offers clarity. Then we hear the line from John 18:36 that shapes the entire feast:

“My kingdom does not belong to this world.” 

If this were the only verse we remembered from the feast, it would still be enough. Christ’s kingship is not a political program or a party platform. It is not concerned with borders or budgets. His kingdom is one of truth, life, holiness, grace, justice, love, and peace, as the Preface of the Mass proclaims.

And yet His kingdom quietly transforms everything in this world.

A Feast Born in a Time of Crisis

Although the feast uses royal imagery, it is not medieval in origin. It is less than a century old. Pope Pius XI established it in 1925 through his encyclical Quas Primas.

Why did he do this?

Because the early 20th century was a time of upheaval. The trauma of World War I still weighed heavily on the world. Secularism was spreading quickly. Communism had taken hold in Russia. Fascist movements were gaining momentum. Many people felt pressured to set their faith aside and give the State their highest loyalty.

New “kings” were rising, and none resembled Christ.

Pius XI saw the danger clearly. When societies forget God, they do not become neutral. They become unjust. When people forget God, they do not gain freedom. They lose direction. So he created the Feast of Christ the King to remind Catholics each year that Christ must reign in our minds, wills, and hearts.

Originally, the feast fell on the last Sunday of October. In 1969, Pope Paul VI moved it to the final Sunday of the liturgical year to emphasize its meaning even more clearly. Christ the King now stands as the Church’s way of saying, “Before we begin Advent, remember Who this whole story has been about.”

He is the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the One who is, who was, and who is to come.

What Kind of King Is This?

If you lined up kings throughout history—pharaohs, emperors, monarchs—and then placed Jesus beside them, He would not fit the mold. There are no palaces, no military parades, and no glittering robes. Only a carpenter who washed feet, welcomed sinners, and preached forgiveness without limit.

This is precisely what makes His kingship so powerful.

We are used to power that dominates. Christ exercises power that heals.
We are used to rulers who demand allegiance. Christ asks for faith grounded in love.
We are used to leadership that benefits the strong. Christ lifts up the weak.

In Quas Primas, Pius XI explains that Christ must reign in:

  • The mind, through truth
  • The will, through obedience to God’s commands
  • The heart, through love for God above all things

This does not pull us away from the world. It sends us back into the world with renewed clarity and purpose. When Christ reigns in us, we become people who care for the poor, defend the vulnerable, and work for justice and peace.

Pope Francis often reflected that Christ wears a crown of thorns because His kingship is rooted in mercy. He restores, forgives, and embraces the lost. A King like that does not intimidate. He invites.

Where Does Christ Reign in Us?

For many Catholics, this feast becomes a gentle examination of conscience. Not a moment for guilt, but for honesty.

Does Christ reign in my schedule?
In my habits?
In my entertainment choices?
In the way I treat coworkers, neighbors, and family members?

Or do I try to hold on to certain “little kingdoms” of my own?

When we pray “Thy kingdom come,” we are not asking for a distant event. We are inviting Christ to reshape our daily lives. One simple measure of that transformation appears in the Gospel for Cycle C: Matthew 25, the parable of the sheep and the goats.

Did I feed the hungry?
Did I clothe the poor?
Have I welcomed the stranger?
Will I visit the sick and imprisoned?

Christ reigns wherever charity takes root.

The feast reminds us that His dominion is cosmic and eternal, but it also reminds us that He desires to rule within our ordinary routines and relationships. This King does not impose fear. He brings freedom.

Eight Fun Facts About the Feast of Christ the King

  1. It is less than 100 years old.
    Instituted in 1925, first celebrated in 1926.
  2. The first celebration took place on Halloween.
    October 31, 1926, purely due to the calendar.
  3. It once had a different date and name.
    Pope Paul VI gave the feast its current title and placement in 1969.
  4. It was created to counter rising secularism, atheism, and communism.
    Pius XI wanted Christians to proclaim Christ publicly in an age that was hostile to faith.
  5. Many Protestants celebrate it too.
    Anglicans, Lutherans, Methodists, and Presbyterians include it in their liturgical calendars.
  6. In Sweden, the day is called “The Sunday of Doom.”
    The focus is strongly on Christ’s Second Coming and the Last Judgment.
  7. Some Anglican traditions call it “Stir-up Sunday.”
    The collect begins with “Stir up,” and the day was traditionally used to begin stirring Christmas puddings.
  8. One of the world’s largest statues of Jesus honors this title.
    The Christ the King statue in Poland stands 33 meters tall, one meter for each year of Christ’s earthly life.

A Final Reflection: Let His Kingdom Come

As the liturgical year draws to a close, the Feast of Christ the King invites us to imagine a world shaped by truth, mercy, justice, and sacrificial love. Christ reigns not through intimidation but by transforming hearts. Not through violence but through the Cross. Not through dominance but through humility.

And His kingdom grows each time we allow His grace to shape our thoughts, habits, relationships, and choices.

Before Advent invites us to wait for Christ’s coming, this feast invites us to welcome Christ’s reign. The King of the Universe desires something incredibly personal.

He wants to reign in your heart.

Related Links 

Sunday Mass Readings for Christ the King

Seeing Beyond the Cross: Feast of Christ the King

Preparation [for the King] is King

Thank you for sharing!

Rooted in Hope: Building Our Lives on Christ and God’s Unfailing Love

Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

Reflection on Luke 21

My Sisters and Brothers,

As we sit together today in prayer, let us acknowledge our Lord Jesus’ presence among us. And, before anything else, remember this: Jesus loves each of us more deeply than we can ever imagine. No matter where we are or what we face, He is always with us and never distant, never leaving us to face life’s storms alone.

Today’s Gospel is enough to make anyone uneasy. Jesus stands before the glorious temple in Jerusalem—the heart of faith, the symbol of God’s presence—and shocks everyone by saying, “All that you see here—every stone—will be thrown down.” The people are stunned. They want details: they want a timeline, a way to prepare, a set of steps to avoid catastrophe.

And Jesus tells them, honestly, you can’t avoid troubles of the world. There will be wars, disasters, betrayals. Even the things you most treasure and trust: family, friendships, even the beauty and security of your religious traditions—sometimes even these will fall away. But then, right in the middle of all these warnings, he says, “Do not be terrified… Not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”

Continue reading
Thank you for sharing!