And the Hope of His Reign Restored
In the life of the Church, signs are never neutral. They either reveal or they conceal; they either proclaim the Faith, or they obscure it. In recent decades, two especially symbolic changes—the abandonment of the papal coronation and the widespread loss of ad orientem worship—have served not merely as liturgical or ceremonial reforms, but as outward signs of a deeper eclipse of Christ’s visible Kingship on earth.
Yet the light of Christ cannot be extinguished. It may be veiled for a time, but it remains—ever radiant, ever victorious. For the faithful who see the eclipse, the call is not to despair, but to Hope: the firm trust that what was obscured can and will be restored, through the grace of God and the perseverance of His people.
The Tiara Set Aside
In 1963, Pope Paul VI became the last pontiff to be crowned with the papal tiara—a triple crown rich in symbolic theology: father of princes and kings, ruler of the world, and Vicar of Christ on earth. Shortly thereafter, he set it aside, never to wear it again.
Since then, papal coronations have given way to inaugurations—simplified ceremonies that reflect less the majesty of divine Kingship and more the horizontal image of democratic leadership. The Vicar of Christ, once enthroned as a monarch in the household of the Faith, came to be seen increasingly as a moderator or administrator, a “first among equals” rather than a visible prince of the Kingdom of God on earth.
This was no mere gesture of humility—it sent a signal. The visible reign of Christ on earth, mediated through His Church and personified in the papacy, was no longer to be emphasized. The crown was not denied, but hidden. And with it, the doctrine it embodied—of divine authority, sacred hierarchy, and Christ’s rule in time and eternity—was all but forgotten.
Yet what is hidden is not destroyed. What is set aside can be taken up again. In this truth, we find Hope. For Christ’s Kingship is not diminished by human neglect, nor His authority erased by symbolic omissions. It remains, awaiting its rightful recognition.
Turning Away from the East
At the same moment in Church history, another quiet revolution unfolded: the near-universal abandonment of ad orientem worship in the Roman Rite. For centuries, the priest, with the people, faced East—the cosmic and liturgical symbol of Christ, the rising Sun, the Lord who is to come.
This orientation proclaimed a profound truth: that the priest leads the faithful toward God, and not merely toward themselves. The Mass was pilgrimage and offering, not performance. Christ was the focus—not the congregation.
With the advent of versus populum celebration, the altar often became a table, the priest a host, and the liturgy a dialogue. Though Christ remained truly present in the Eucharist, the posture of worship no longer proclaimed it clearly. The mystery was clouded. The throne of the King gave way to the circle of community.
Yet even here, we do not lose heart. The liturgical East is not lost—it remains embedded in the Church’s memory and recoverable through her Tradition. Wherever a priest turns again toward the East, wherever the sacred signs are restored, there the light returns. The orientation of worship can once more become the orientation of souls.
When the Signs Fade, the Truth Is Forgotten
The papal tiara and ad orientem worship once proclaimed with power a single truth: Christ reigns—in heaven, on earth, and in His Church. When these signs were obscured, the doctrine they conveyed faded from view. Christ’s Kingship became interiorized, spiritualized, and often sentimentalized. He was still loved, but no longer feared; followed, but no longer adored as Sovereign.
Without these visible signs, a generation grew up seeing Christ not as King, but as companion, counselor, or concept. Yet the Church does not invent her signs—she receives them. And when she casts them off, she risks casting off the truths they incarnate.
Still, we live not in defeat but in the time of seed and soil. What has fallen away may be planted anew. What has been eclipsed may yet rise in glory. In this lies the virtue of Hope: that in fidelity, beauty, and reverent worship, the Kingdom of Christ can once more be seen and embraced.
Restoring the Crown of Worship: A Path Forward in Hope
To restore the visible Kingship of Christ is not nostalgia—it is renewal through remembrance. It begins with hearts turned toward God and continues with signs that proclaim Him. This renewal takes root in:
- The reverent celebration of the traditional Roman Rite, with its clarity of doctrine, sense of sacrifice, and transcendent symbolism.
- The return to ad orientem worship, where priest and people journey together toward the Lord who comes.
- The recovery of sacred hierarchy, solemnity, and ecclesial order, not as trappings of power but as reflections of the divine liturgy of heaven.
This work is already underway. In quiet chapels and rural parishes, in young vocations and faithful families, the Kingship of Christ is being crowned anew. The signs are returning. The eclipse is passing.
Let us therefore not grow weary. Let us hold fast to tradition—not as relic, but as living treasure. And let us walk with steadfast hope, knowing that the glory of Christ the King will shine again in His Church, in His liturgy, and in every soul that dares to enthrone Him anew.
“He must reign, until He hath put all His enemies under His feet.” (1 Corinthians 15:25)