Jesus told Peter to put his sword away, and a short time later said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Jesus taught that childlike faith was a prerequisite for the kingdom of heaven. What is the kingdom of God, and what is it not? What does it mean to build the kingdom? Are we called to build it or bear witness to it? We too often answer these weighty questions with more zeal than wisdom.
Approximately twenty years ago, I listened to a radio show where the hosts and the guest were discussing the kingdom of God. The host observed that the kingdom of God is upside down from this world. The elderly saint guest chimed in with gentle wisdom, saying, “The kingdom of God is right side up; this world is upside down.” It may seem like a semantic difference, but it is profound. God’s kingdom is not of this world, its logic, its power, or its ways. So, how do Christians view and navigate this world while being citizens of another?
Sojourners and Pilgrims
Throughout the Old Testament, the people of God found themselves as exiles. In the New Testament, we see frequent descriptions of God’s people as sojourners and pilgrims who have no lasting city here. Is this an abrogation of our call to discipleship, evangelization, or simply being salt and light? Absolutely not!
Between faith’s definition and its roll call lies the reminder that God’s people have always been exiles.
These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.
Hebrews 11:13-16
Salt and Light in Babylon
When commanded to be salt and light in a world of decay and darkness, does that override our status as pilgrims? Jesus’ declaration of our identity follows His blessing of those who are persecuted and reviled in this world, accompanied by the reminder that our reward is great in Heaven (Matthew 5:11-16). Can sojourners also be ambassadors? Peter reminds us of our identity as a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, and a people for his own possession, even as he urges us as sojourners and exiles to live honorably to the glory of God.
How Then Shall We Live?
This is the question we rush to answer while missing a foundational question: how then do we have life? We see this most clearly in the sermon. The pastor often sprints to the practical application aspect of the message to deliver “marching orders” as quickly as the congregation expects them. Our actions flow from our being, yet we try to build the kingdom using the strength of our own hands instead of the power that comes from God. In our rush to “do,” we often default to strategies of worldly success.
Two Faulty Approaches
Building the kingdom of God currently has two prominent yet opposing approaches with the same faulty foundation. The first is building the network and net worth of the church in the name of the kingdom. The second is positioning the church to wield political and cultural power for societal change. One makes the church a corporation, and the other makes it a campaign. Both miss the mark and treat the kingdom like something to be managed or conquered instead of received in childlike dependence. Unfortunately, we’ve seen recent examples.
In the past year, two prominent Southern Baptist pastors have come under scrutiny for their business practices in bringing churches outside the denomination into the denomination, including their assets. Whether you agree or disagree with the criticism, the recurring appeal in each case from the pastors and their supporters was that this was for the “kingdom.” Is building the kingdom synonymous with expanding a megachurch’s satellite campuses and urban footprint? It’s a matter of meaning and motivation, not merely methodology. Is kingdom success defined by institutional reach and branding or by faithfulness to God’s will, word, and ways?
There has been a resurgence of discussion centered on Christian nationalism and theonomy in recent years. We won’t settle the debate here, but suffice it to say that the church still has a role to play in the public square. However, is the kingdom truly built by pastors with flamethrowers (literally!) while doing videos on virtue laced with vitriol? Is kingdom building the same as accruing political power or cultural capital?
Recently, I sat in the pew and observed the pastor and vicar of my church bring communion to our eldest member. She can no longer go up to the front, but heaven came down and met her with forgiveness and peace through the body and blood of Christ. In that moment, it occurred to me that what I had just witnessed had more to do with kingdom growth than launching a church plant 30 miles away in a city that also has hundreds of churches or ripping the culture a new one on a vlog. What do evangelical corporatism and Christian nationalism have in common? They make us soldiers instead of sojourners, politicians instead of pilgrims, and confuse earthly power in the name of God with the power of God.
I imagine Jesus would look at our church brand expansion and political power plans and echo what he said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” The right-side-up kingdom is where bread and wine deliver forgiveness, exiles testify to God’s glory and grace through the humility of their obedience, and, most importantly, sinners and saints alike are redeemed through Christ’s death and resurrection.
The right-side-up kingdom doesn’t need branding campaigns, multi-site demographic studies, or political savvy. It transforms lives through the potent simplicity of word, water, bread, and wine. Let us look to the future then as “ambassador exiles” not armed with worldly wit, but empowered by the wisdom of God. The kingdom comes not through force or fame, but through foolishness: the foolishness of the cross (1 Corinthians 1:18-31).
