Christ the King Procession

Last Sunday, in our parish in Makati, we had a procession for the Feast of Christ the King.

Three white-robed sacristans walked in front: the one at the center carried a pole with a mounted cross, the sign of the Son of Man that Constantine saw in the heavens, the night before the decisive Battle of the Milvian Bridge, on the same date last month, October 28, 312 A.D.; the other two held similar poles but with candles, which signified the light of Christ piercing the darkening day.

The band followed next in their crisp, green uniform, with golden, twisted cords. Their tuba and trumpets brayed over the bellowing drums, as when the Hosts of the West marched towards the Black Gates, shouting, “The King Elessar has come to reclaim this land! Depart hence or yield them up!” But the band knows no song for Christ the King: no Christus Vincit, no Christus Herat, no Christus Imperat. Instead, the band played songs from the mass like the “Ama Namin,” and I am content. The better must not be the enemy of the good.

Four men carried the picture of Christ the King. Christ wore a double crown gold and bejeweled, signifying his kingship over heaven and earth (c.f. Mt 28:18). His cape was red as His Most Precious Blood: “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and blessing” (Rev 5:12).  His left hand held a golden scepter, shaped like a reed, which signified He who shall bring justice on earth (Is 42:1-3).  His right hand is raised, with three fingers pointing upward, signifying the Trinity.  His Most Sacred Heart was burning in flames, pierced by a cross and crowned with thorns: “It is not you they reject; they are rejecting me as their king” (1 Sam 8:8).

Two men walked behind the image, and twenty women followed, praying the rosary.

Sad.

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