What Do We Mean When We Say "The Kingdom of God"?

An Opening Post with Ecumenical Insight

Let me begin with a small pastoral confession: whenever someone asks me, “So… what exactly is the Kingdom of God?” I feel the same way I do when somebody asks me to explain cloud storage. I use it every day… but don’t expect me to diagram the servers.

Jesus, however, would not stop talking about it.
He filled the Gospels with Kingdom talk—“The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed” (Mark 4:30–32), “like yeast that a woman mixed into dough” (Matthew 13:33), “like a banquet prepared for all” (Luke 14:15–24). I sometimes imagine the disciples scrambling for a notebook, trying to keep up as Jesus kept switching metaphors like a preacher with too much coffee.

Still, one truth remains consistent across traditions:
The Kingdom of God is not distant; it is God’s life breaking into our life—present, disruptive, and beautifully ordinary.

The Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann put it this way:

“The Kingdom of God begins when we understand that all of life is communion with God.”

Catholic scholar John P. Meier noted that Jesus presented the Kingdom as “both God’s gift and God’s demand—grace offered and transformation required.”

And Methodist missionary E. Stanley Jones, never one for understatement, wrote:

“The Kingdom of God is God’s total answer to man’s total need.”

Different traditions, same heartbeat: the Kingdom is already touching the ground we stand on.

Not a distant heaven, but a present reality

Many of us were taught that “Kingdom of God” was simply a synonym for “heaven,” the place we hope to arrive someday (preferably with good weather and familiar hymns). But Jesus spoke of it as something near—“at hand” (Mark 1:15), among us, within us, and breaking into the world even when we aren’t paying attention.

Liberation theologian Gustavo Gutiérrez reminds us:

“The Kingdom is not only beyond history; it is within history, calling us to convert our lives toward the poor and excluded.”

The Kingdom shows up in moments where God’s justice and compassion interrupt our routines:

• A hungry child receives a meal with dignity.
• A neighbor long ignored finally hears the words, “You matter.”
• A community chooses fairness over convenience.
• A stranger is welcomed like family.
• A weary person rests without fear for the first time in years.

As Pope Benedict XVI wrote in Jesus of Nazareth:

“The Kingdom of God comes where God’s will is done—where people allow the healing and transforming power of God’s love into their lives.”

But if the Kingdom is here, why does the world still look the way it does?

Good question. If I had a dollar for every time I asked God that, I could at least pretend I was being generous with my giving.

Jesus offers us a clue through the mustard seed—“the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it becomes a tree large enough for birds to rest in its branches” (Matthew 13:31–32).
Tiny beginnings. Ordinary soil. Slow, persistent growth.

Orthodox bishop Kallistos Ware says,

“The Kingdom grows in hiddenness—small acts of love that become shelter for others.”

In other words, the Kingdom rarely announces itself with trumpets. Sometimes it looks like a casserole dish left on a doorstep.

A practical test: is someone besides me being freed?

If you want to know if you’re seeing the Kingdom, here’s my pastoral humor for the day:
Ask yourself, “Is this liberating anyone other than me?”
If yes—you’re probably standing on holy ground.
If not, there’s a decent chance you’ve fashioned a very polite religious cul-de-sac.

As Augustine once wrote,

“The Kingdom of God is present where the love of God orders all things toward the good of all.”

The Kingdom is not about escape.
It is about embodiment—faith lived in the open, for the sake of others.

The Kingdom shows up where we stop looking

So as we begin this journey together, here’s the promise I make:
We will search for the Kingdom not in the clouds but in the cracks—those places where light slips through and surprises us with grace. We will walk the paths Jesus walked, especially the ones leading toward the poor, the weary, and the forgotten.

Because, as N.T. Wright reminds us,

“The Kingdom of God is what the world looks like when God is in charge.”

And often, it looks exactly like the things we’ve overlooked.

Welcome.
Let’s look for the Kingdom—right here, right now, and in the company of one another.

Blessings Pastor Mick