My heart. Its an iron throne. The one who sits on it, rules me.
I was sitting before the crucifix on Saturday, praying my penance and I looked at the bishop’s chair. I rapidly contemplated apostolic succession, I contemplated that when my bishop sits on that chair, he has authority over this flock as if he were Christ. He shepherds in the name of the Great Shepherd. I thought about how he can trace his consecration as a bishop back to one of the twelve. Its amazing! And those and their successors shepherd in union with the Bishop of Rome, the equal that Jesus Christ gave the keys of the kingdom of God to, to be the Hand of the King, that is Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ is the King.
When I was a Protestant and was on my summer project in San Diego, I can’t even count the number of times I would be sharing the gospel, barefoot on the beach, and I would reach down and draw a heart in the sand and in that heart I would draw a small chair, a throne. And I would tell the potential convert that we could either sit in that chair ourselves and go to hell, or we could let Jesus sit in that chair, on that throne, and let him bring our soul to heaven.
As I looked at the bishop’s chair, his throne, I was reminded of those beach moments and I had a little conversation with Jesus. Actually, it was more of a monologue:
“Jesus, I’m sick of fighting over this throne with you. I only hurt myself by playing this little game with you. I’m not fit to rule. Please sit on the throne of my heart. BUT, you have duties as a King, and I expect you to carry them out. Mainly, I need you to protect this realm from evil. I NEED you to fight against whatever may destroy me. I have no need for a King who will not protect me from the things which will destroy and plunder this land beyond healing, condemned for all eternity.”
I sat there and then continued:
“I suppose that you will require me to join the armies that march out to fight the evil in my soul, won’t you? I suppose that it won’t do to sit idly by feasting on the spoils while you lead a legion of angels and saints to fight and protect me. Fine. So be it. I suppose that I must be willing to do whatever you ask of me in faith and without question, like Abraham. Ok. Sure. Then I ask this one thing of you. Grant me the grace to discern your voice, your commands so that I know that what I’m being asked to do is for your kingdom and does not come from the enemy.”
It is a good thing we have a good, gracious, just, merciful, and loving God who would allow a creature such as me to make demands and tell him what I think his duties as King ought to be.