The Ritual of the King Fry

Even more interesting than the unusual menu fare he tried to pair those fries with was the ritual involved in eating them.  With every order of fries, he would pick out the biggest one and push it to the side.  He saved it until he was finished with everything else and then savored it as though consecrated.  He always called that last one the King Fry.

King of Kings

This week’s readings are all about Jesus as king.  The first reading references “the Most High, whose kingship shall be an everlasting kingship, whom all dominions shall serve and obey” (Daniel 7: 27).  Then the second reading begins by affirming that “Jesus Christ is the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead and ruler of the kings of the earth” (Revelation 1: 5).  All this sets the stage for the gospel reading which features the prescient dialogue between Pilot and Jesus, all about being a king (John 18: 33-37).

Lest we lose our faculties and entirely miss the point, the Catholic Church calls this Sunday the “Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.”  Not exactly subtle.  If Jesus had business cards printed back in the day, I’m guessing the title he might have used would be Rabbi or Teacher.  I doubt he would have been comfortable with “King of the Universe.”  But the Church has an understandable need to speak in superlatives when attempting to describe the indescribable. 

The problem with the word “king” is that it doesn’t hit our modern ears the way that it would have when this week’s Old and New Testament passages were written.  The word today conjures up images of authoritarian despots and entrenched patriarchy.  Especially in the United States, a country built through revolution against a monarchy, this gold-plated, royal-we, my-subjects-must-obey notion of “king” doesn’t always sit well.

Big is Better

But it’s not entirely useless.  In fact, if we let go of the typical understanding of “king” as “royalty” and instead use Ben’s approach when referencing that last, beautiful, venerated fry, it might even be helpful. 

Ben used “king” it to indicate the “biggest.”  Certainly, a king-sized mattress is the largest one for sale.  And the king-sized Polar Pop at the convenience store is the most gigantic soda cup of all.  Personally, I’m more comfortable talking about Jesus as big, vast, all-encompassing than I am about Jesus as monarch. 

What on earth might that mean?  Here’s how I think about it.  Take the Earth.  Picture a globe in your head.  One way of looking at the Earth is to see seven continents and five oceans.  But another way to look at it is to pretend it’s one giant – king-sized – bathtub, one in which we unstop the drain and let all the water seep out.  What do you have left?  One big-ass Earth.  When you look closely, you realized that it’s all one thing.  Not two.  Not seven.  Not 195, which is the number of countries in the world.  The divisions between them disappear, and Earth becomes Earth.

I think one way to describe Jesus’ ministry is to say that he unstopped the drain on what it means to be human, to live as a person of faith.  In effect, he said, “Look closer.  Everything is connected.  It’s all one, and it’s all holy.  It’s all from and in and of God.” 

That’s why it only makes sense to love thy neighbor . . . because she and I are connected whether I like or even know her.  That’s why the poor in spirit, the meek, and even those who are persecuted are blessed . . .  because those horrible things can’t help but break down the false sense of separation we live out of.  As Father Richard Rohr writes, only great love and great suffering are powerful enough to break through the membrane encasing the false, separate selves we envision ourselves to be.  

Enlighted Self-Interest

Connection is sacred.  It gets us back to who we truly are. In my view, that’s why a great, big hug feels so good.  That’s why sex is so pleasurable.  That’s why service is so enriching.  That’s why kindness to others can be magical.  It all feels good because it’s “right.” I mean that in a way that’s less about moral prescriptions and more about aligning ourselves with the truth of who we are. Anything we do to connect gets us in touch with that original unity that we are at our core.  Anything we do to unstop the drain and recognize that we area all individual pieces of the same reality is God alive in the world today.

I don’t eat French fries very much anymore, but when I do throw caution to the wind, I like to find the King Fry and set it aside to eat last.  It’s my nod to a quaint ritual that at one time meant something to my son.  But it’s also a concrete way for me to acknowledge that “big is beautiful,” and God is all in all. 

I don’t need Jesus to be a benevolent dictator.  But I do need the experience of Christ to remind me that God’s presence is so much bigger, more vast, more all-encompassing than I usually acknowledge in my day-to-day life.  For this reason, I am grateful for the King Fry.

Photo by Fernanda Martinez on Unsplash