Are we signs of the kingdom of God?

A nearby tree begining to turn

Across from our house, sycamore, oak and maple trees are turning yellow and gold: the clear sign that autumn is here and more change is coming. 

It reminds me of the spectacular change of seasons I witnessed when I lived in Indiana, each autumn observing birch, oak, ginkgo bilboa and other trees turning brilliant red, orange and yellow. When I moved from Indiana to a tiny island off the west coast of Scotland, it took me two months to realise why the setting felt so different: Iona has very few trees -- a few dozen, mostly clustered in the village. Without trees, it was more difficult to mark the passing of time and the changing of the seasons.

Like deciduous trees, key people in history have served as signposts of change. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus teaches a crowd, 'This is a wicked generation. It asks for a miraculous sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah. For as Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites, so also will the Son of Man be to this generation' (11:29-30).

Like trees in autumn pointing to change, Jonah was a sign announcing the coming judgement of God: in forty days, God was going to destroy Nineveh for their evil and violence. But the Ninevites humbled themselves and turned from their evil ways, and in response, God showed them mercy. 

As I have written before, God's judgement can be either destructive or life-giving, depending on how one is judged. In the case of the Ninevites, God's judgement was life-giving because they turned from their evil. 

Beyond being a sign of God's judgement, Jonah was a sign of God's coming kingdom. As Jesus says elsewhere, Jonah's spending three days and three nights in the belly of the fish foreshadows Jesus' spending three days in the heart of the earth before rising to life, winning the decisive battle against evil and granting the world entrance into God's kingdom. Jonah was thus a sign of God's kingdom because he was a sign of Jesus, that kingdom's King.

What about us? Are we signs of God's kingdom and of Jesus? What about our communities, whether our churches or towns, the companies we work for or even our nations? Like trees in autumn expressing the change to come, do we anticipate and reflect the second appearing of Christ, the coming day of God's judgement? Are we transparent to the light of the heavenly kingdom shining through us?

Let me give a few examples. This week is Anti-Slavery Week, ending on Anti-Slavery Day on 18th October. I first learned about modern slavery in university, when for a political science course I read Gary Haugen's Terrify No More. The book describes the International Justice Mission's work of partnering with law enforcement officers and holding traffickers accountable through the legal systems of each of the countries where they work, and delivering people enslaved in trafficking. I am proud of my university's own involvement in supporting vulnerable people, such as through its Beauty for Ashes Scholarship Fund, which helps survivors of human trafficking pursue a college education.

In the UK, over a dozen organisations are dedicated to supporting victims of modern slavery. Many such groups describe their motivation as being not only compassion for the specific people they support, but also their vision of a world in which slavery does not exist, where people do not exploit the weak for economic gain, where all can live up to their full God-given potential. Although not all of these organisations are Christian, they reflect God's kingdom to the extent that they offer a glimpse of God's justice over evil and mercy for the lowly. 

A more personal example: I was recently participating in a Christian worship service. In the midst of the singing and praying, I sensed that we were being transported to heaven, joining the worship that is taking place there (as I have written about briefly before). 

I share this only because this is the best personal example I can give of what I'm saying: the Church is called to be a sign of the kingdom of heaven, to be a community where, in its worship, people ascend to heaven, resulting in the transformation of everything they do 'down here' on earth. 

As theologian Alexander Schmemann writes of Christian worship,

The Eucharist is the anaphora, the 'lifting up' of our offering, and of ourselves. It is the ascension of the Church to heaven. 'But what do I care about heaven,' says St. John Chrysostom, 'when I myself have become heaven. . . ?' (For the Life of the World)

Although that specific worship service has ended, my brief experience has remained with me, renewing my spiritual vision to recgonise that 'the whole earth is filled with God's glory'. Although I already knew this to be true, I needed that experience in worship to remind me and to transform my vision again.

In her song 'Kingdom Comes', Sara Groves expresses other ways we let the kingdom shine through our lives:

When fear engulfs your mind
Says you protect your own
You still extend your hand
You open up your home

When sorrow fills your life
When in your grief and pain
You choose again to rise
You choose to bless the Name

That's a little stone, that's a little mortar
That's a little seed, that's a little water
In the hearts of the sons and daughters

This kingdom's coming

Schmemann has written (in his book Church, World, Mission) that most of Western society, especially the Church, has lost its orientation and rootedness in the ever-coming and already present kingdom of God. Instead of opening ourselves and our communities to being transformed into workers of God's kingdom, we have pursued our own agendas, seeking to transform the world based on our dreams of how it should be, apart from God and his power. Instead of being a people 'in, but not of, this world', we have remained both in and of this world, giving little thought or reference to the heavenly dimension.

Rather than trusting that Jesus will come again to unite heaven and earth, we can fall into the trap of thinking the task is entirely up to us. 

Like deciduous trees changing colour as a sign of the coming change, our work remains for us to be for our generation what Jonah was for his: a sign of the kingdom of God. We do this by proclaiming through our lives, both to ourselves and to the whole world, the message of Jesus: 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.'

Come, Lord Jesus!