Saint Catherine of Alexandria
25 November 2025
Only One Kingdom Endures
On Sunday we celebrated the Solemnity of Christ the King
— the final word of the liturgical year —
and we proclaimed again that Christ is sovereign over the universe.
His Kingdom is both now and not yet:
now,
because we already live under His reign;
not yet,
because the world around us does not fully recognize His lordship.
This whole week,
the Church invites us to let that truth sink deeper
— to examine the foundations of our lives,
the loyalties of our hearts,
the kingdoms we are building or clinging to,
and to allow Christ to break down every false allegiance.
Today’s readings help us do exactly that.
In the first reading,
Daniel interprets King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream
— a colossal statue made of various materials:
-a gold head
-a silver chest
-a bronze belly
-iron legs
-and finally feet of iron mixed with clay
This statue represents the kingdoms of the world
— massive, impressive, seemingly unstoppable.
To ancient listeners,
this statue would have felt like the ultimate symbol of security, political power, and human achievement.
But in the dream comes something unexpected:
a stone “hewn from a mountain without hands.”
A stone not shaped by human strength,
not crafted by a king,
not built by a general,
not engineered by an empire.
It strikes the statue at its weakest point
— the feet —
and the whole thing collapses into dust,
blown away like chaff in the wind.
And that stone?
It becomes a mountain filling the whole earth.
Daniel tells us plainly:
this is the Kingdom of God
— a kingdom not built by human hands,
not upheld by military might or political strategy,
not dependent on wealth, technology, or cultural power.
It is the Kingdom Jesus Christ inaugurates.
It destroys every counterfeit kingdom,
not by violence, but by truth.
Not by domination, but by fidelity.
Not by human power, but by divine initiative.
And it lasts forever.
In the Gospel, Jesus echoes Daniel’s message.
People marvel at the beauty of the Temple
— the stones, the decorations, the apparent solidity of it all.
Jesus says:
“All that you see here
— the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another.”
We know that statement came true.
We know from history that as the Romans burned the Temple to the ground
the gold seeped into the cracks of the floors
which necessitated removing each stone to get all of the gold in the floor.
This reminds us that it is not an anti-Temple statement;
it is a prophetic reminder:
Nothing earthly is ultimate.
Nothing created is permanent.
Nothing human is unshakeable.
Jesus names the things that shake our confidence
— wars, revolutions, earthquakes, persecutions, betrayals.
He is not trying to frighten us;
He is teaching us to see clearly:
Everything unstable in this world invites us to anchor ourselves
in the only Kingdom that stands forever.
Daniel’s interpretation and Jesus’ warning are not meant to produce anxiety
— they are meant to produce clarity.
Every time an earthly structure shakes
— a government, a job, a relationship, a plan, even our own bodies —
Christ is inviting us to examine:
What kingdom am I trusting?
Where is my foundation?
What am I building my life upon?
The stone cut without human hands is Christ Himself.
If our hope is in possessions — they crumble.
If our hope is in popularity — it fades.
If our hope is in political systems — they shift.
If our hope is in our own strength — it wears down.
If our hope is in Christ — it holds.
This week after Christ the King, the Church is asking us:
Are we letting the true King dismantle our false security?
Are we preparing to live fully in His Kingdom?
The world’s kingdoms rise and fall,
but the Kingdom of God
— quiet, humble, seemingly small like a stone —
fills the whole world and endures forever.