Saturday, 14 December 2019

5 Short Reflections from St. John of the Cross



St. John of the Cross (1542 – 1591) is a Doctor of the Church. He is given the epithet ‘Mystical Doctor’ or ‘Doctor of Mystical Theology’. The following article shares five reflections from St. John’s Sayings of Light and Love, offering a brief commentary on most.

One


(13) God desires the least degree of obedience and submissiveness more than all those services you think of rendering him.


In the Scriptures we read, “God desires mercy, not sacrifice” (Hos 6:6). Jesus repeats this teaching when he is rebuking the Pharisees (Mt 9:10-13). The Pharisees notice Jesus is eating and drinking with tax collectors. Scandalised at Jesus’ association with these sinners they question Him. The Pharisees placed greater value on fulfilling the letter of the law, with all its outward acts of piety and prayer—all good things in themselves—than the spirit of the law: love and mercy. In their quest to be good religious Jews, they forgot about the Spirit behind the laws—the entire purpose to everything God ordains.

Catholics can fall into the same trap as the Pharisees. We all have our ‘laundry list’ of personal services and acts of piety we set for ourselves, or follow because of our state of life, however many or few. Moral obligations, the duties of our vocation, as family people, clergy or religious; our prayer and sacramental life. These things are objectively good.

But we can sometimes confuse the obligations we set for ourselves or should generally carry out in accord with the objective Will of God, with the Will of God for us subjectively and in a given concrete moment. It is good that we go to Mass. But should we be on our way to Mass and come across someone in dire need of our assistance (e.g. a traffic accident), obedience is required here, in this act of charity. Or else perhaps there is a father who stays back after daily Mass to join in the Holy Hour and Benediction. This is objectively good. But what if he has to take extra time off at work, taking a longer lunch break than usual to do so, against the boss’s preference. This would not be good—obedience would require the father to submit to the just demands of his employer. Thus instead he could stay back after Mass for a shorter period in order to be faithful to the duties of work, and to secure a livelihood for his family.

Other times we confuse our personal acts of service to God and neighbour as the very means by which we please God. This is not so. The acts we do are mere “empty gongs” in themselves (1 Cor 13). Anything we do pleases God only insofar as it is animated by love, the fruit of which is obedience and submissiveness to whatever God so wills, whether the voice of God’s Will is coming from Church teaching, a spiritual director, a religious superior, Bishop, or if an underage child, a parent. It could simply be the silent voice of charity or the voice of our vocation which demands certain things of us often contrary to our own personal natural and spiritual preferences.

Notice St. John says, “God desires the least degree of obedience and submissiveness more than all those services you think of rendering him”. You think—that is the key here. We can think many things about what we should or should not be doing, and may think the key to spiritual success lies in obeying what we think is God’s will. But what does God think? What does the Church think? If it had a mind that could be read, what would our state of life think?

The ultimate act of “obedience and submissiveness” is of course, faith in Jesus Christ and in God’s love for us. This pleases God above all. Out of this primal obedience to God in faith flows everything else. We can be bed ridden, dying and incapable of carrying out any duty—but should we lay prostrate before God, clinging to Jesus in faith, with the intensity of love, God will be well pleased, more than if we were healthy and able to move mountains.

Two


(14) God values in you the inclination to dryness and suffering for love of him more than all the consolations, spiritual visions, and meditations you could possibly have.


God loves to give us gifts in the spiritual life. The substance of these gifts is always imperceptible—such is grace. Yet such gifts often come wrapped in perceptible knowledge, sensible consolations and experiences, or mystical phenomena.

Sometimes even the devil can fabricate spiritual experiences and visions to lead the soul astray. Sometimes the devil can simply encourage attachment to genuine spiritual experiences: the ‘good feelings’ and ‘wow moments.’ The devil wants to elicit a covetousness in us for spiritual gifts, so that we seek gifts as an end in themselves.

Contrarily, God gives spiritual gifts in order to draw us nearer to Him, to make us love Him more. From the gift of tears, to speaking in tongues, to prophetic dreams, locutions and intellectual visions. Even to flashes of insight or extensive knowledge in spiritual matters, or a prowess in being able to meditate and pray. All good things. But God loves a heart that can either receive such things, or not receive such things, that “can take it or leave it” as it were. A heart that is open to receiving God’s gifts, and thankful, and even which asks much from God for what is fitting, but a heart which is truly detached from all such things and rejoices solely in Him. To see a heart that is detached from all the good “fluff” of the spiritual life—and these things are indeed good—is exciting to God. Since here He finds a true friend and lover that wants Him for Him, God for God.

We will not be judged on what gifts we received or did not receive. We will be judged on how much we loved Him for all the gifts we have received: natural and spiritual. The greatest gift of all, and the only gift we ought to be attached to: His Son, Jesus Christ.

Three


(20) God is more pleased by one work, however small, done secretly, without desire that it be known, than a thousand done with the desire that people know of them.  Those who work for God with purest love not only care nothing about whether others see their works, but do not even seek that God himself know of them.  Such persons would not cease to render God the same services, with the same joy and purity of love, even if God were never to know of these.


Four


(32) If you lose an opportunity you will be like one who lets the bird fly away; you will never get it back.


The greatest opportunity we have been given is life itself. Even though the gift of life is not the greatest thing per say, it is the platform, the base or original opportunity (to appropriate JP II lingo) by which we are able to attain the beatific vision of heaven, to savour a relationship with the God of Love. One who lets life slip out of their hands will not get another opportunity. Time is a precious gift, each moment an opportunity to love God with the desire of our will—once time has passed, we cannot get it back.

One can lament over opportunities wasted or one can embrace those opportunities that remain. Even the very moment we occupy is an opportunity to offer a prayer of thanks and love to God. An opportunity to expand our soul to His grace, to seek the salvation of souls, the relief of the hurting. An opportunity to store up eternal treasure in heaven (Mt 6:19-20)—for ourselves? True enough, it will be, but more importantly, and the only reason that matters: for the glory of God. To honour He who made Us, to bring a smile to His Face.

Five


(27) Mine are the heavens and mine is the earth.  Mine are the nations, the just are mine, and mine the sinners.  The angels are mine, and the Mother of God, and all things are mine; and God himself is mine and for me, because Christ is mine and all for me.  What do you ask, then, and seek, my soul?  Yours is all of this, and all is for you.  Do not engage yourself in something less or pay heed to the crumbs that fall from your Father’s table.  Go forth and exult in your Glory!  Hide yourself in it and rejoice, and you will obtain the supplications of your heart.


St. John of the Cross is reminding us of our spiritual inheritance which we possess in Jesus Christ (Eph 1:11-14). This is what matters, this is what our focus should be on. Sure, we must handle the crumbs that fall from the Father’s table, the literal and figurative currency of life, handled in the activities we do. But interiorly our heart must orbit God.

We may lack “the crumbs” of personal strength, health, finances, perfect relationships, a stable job, stable emotions, and so many other things. But we possess the whole Bread, the Bread of Life: everything we truly need is in Christ, and through simple repentance and faith, with the aid of the Sacraments, the Communion of Saints, we are enabled to take possession of our “true selves” in Christ and can begin to grow in this God-given identity.

We may be redundant in so many ways, but God is perfect and complete, and we can share in this perfection and completion through our prayer. Not through the words we recite, nor the meditations we offer per say, but through our faith. Faith that we live in Him, and He lives in us.

“Hide yourself in it,” in this truth of God’s love for us, all He has done for us in Christ, “and rejoice”. St. John of the Cross is often painted as a sour-saint, a kill-joy. But "rejoice" he says after the pattern of St. Paul: "Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, 'Rejoice!'" (Phil 4:4).

[Read more on John of the Cross here]

Monday, 25 November 2019

What 'On Earth' is the 'Kingdom of God'?


Image source: Uncertain. Depiction of the 'New, Heavenly Jerusalem'


Applying Scripture and the insights of Ratzinger, Aquinas and John of the Cross, this article aims at painting the Catholic picture of 'the Kingdom,' theologically and in our practical spirituality.

The Kingdom of God… What exactly is it? Words so often jostled about, invoked in our praying of the ‘Lord’s Prayer,’ and mentioned countless times by Christ in the Gospels. Yet there’s something strangely enigmatic about this phrase. If we were put on the spot we might struggle to define and describe what it is.

To some Catholics “the Kingdom” is likely viewed as a boring subject evangelicals harp on about; the utopian goal of liberation theologians, stripped of the transcendental; or an archaic symbol for ecclesiastic triumphalists. Putting aside various conceptions about what the Kingdom of God is, Jesus makes it clear that it is important, vital to everything we are as Christians. As Catholics, although we can learn much from our Protestant brothers and sisters who frequently employ ‘Kingdom language,’ we are blessed with access to a deeper understanding of what the Kingdom is; since we abide in full and visible communion with the successor of Peter to whom Christ has entrusted “the keys of the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 16:19).[1] We are thus privileged with being objectively closer to the source of Revelation, visible in Christ and entrusted to His Church.

What is the Kingdom?


A general inability to define what the Kingdom of God or the Kingdom of Heaven is, is partly understandable, because the Kingdom of God transcends description. This is what makes the Kingdom a mystery in the sacred sense of the term—capable of being understood, but more than we can ever understand. It is thus that Jesus, catering to our human intelligence and experience, employs various allegories and metaphors to explain what the Kingdom is: like a treasure buried in a field; like a pearl of great price; like a mustard seed, the smallest of seeds, but which eventually grows into the largest of shrubs wherein the birds of the air can nest; or like “yeast in three measures of flour,” causing the dough to rise, or “like a net which was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind” etc. (Mt 13:44; 45-46; 31; 33; 47).

Ratzinger, Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, in Jesus of Nazareth (2007) devotes a whole chapter to exploring the varying theologies surrounding the Kingdom of God. He summarises three main approaches: (1) a Christological view, that sees Jesus as the personification of the Kingdom of God— “it is not a geographical dominion… It is a person,” Jesus Christ. (2) A mystical or idealistic view, that sees the Kingdom as the reign of God’s grace within the interiority of the soul; and (3) an ecclesiastic view, where by the Church is “regarded as the actual presence of the Kingdom within history.”[2] The latter view, among others, is espoused in Vatican II’s Lumen Gentium (3): “The Church, or, in other words, the kingdom of Christ now present in mystery, grows visibly through the power of God in the world.”[3] Ratzinger goes on to propose the necessity of all these views: the Kingdom of God is in Christ, in the Church, and in the soul of believers, but it is only “from this centre [Jesus Christ] that the different, seemingly contradictory aspects can be joined together”.[4] 

This synchronistic or wholistic approach to the Kingdom of God is the genuine Catholic (etymologically from the Greek: kata "about," holos, "whole") approach: deeply Christocentric, ecclesiological, and spiritual; and we might add, necessarily, deeply Trinitarian and even Mariological. Still, because there is so much to this “Kingdom” it is worth starting off with a baseline ‘definition’.

A Basic Definition: God’s Active Reign


In arriving at a definition of God’s Kingdom it is worth starting with a definition of kingdom itself: a geographical and political realm that is ruled by a monarchical ruler—a king or queen. An earthly kingdom is “present” wherever the king or queen rules. As Ratzinger, quoting Stuhlmacher points out: The Hebrew word for kingdom, malkut, “is a nomen actionis [an action word] and means—as does the Greek word basileia [kingdom]—the regal function, the active lordship of the king”.[5] The Kingdom of God then is God’s active reign—the eternal and spiritual reality of God’s Lordship. Wherever God is present, the Kingdom of God is there.[6]

Yet it’s not as simple as this. We know God is omnipresent, yet the world is hardly a perfect manifestation of God’s Kingdom. How do we explain this? Then there is the consideration that even without us and all creation God would still be sovereign, not literally sovereign, for without creation there would be nothing for God to be sovereign over, but eternally sovereign: God and His Power always was, is and will be. Without creation the Lord would still be Lord within Himself—not as a literal "Lord" who is master over something (since without creation there would be nothing to 'lord over'), but He is Lord analogously as the One who Is, the "I Am," YHWH. Thus the Kingdom of God does not seem wholly contingent on the existence of creation. There is at least something essential to "the Kingdom" that pertains to God’s absolute and self-sufficient "reign" outside the economy of salvation. (Keeping in mind that all such language appropriated to the Trinity is analogous). It is useful then to point out a twofold dimension of God’s Kingdom: ad intra, the co-equal reign of God’s Triune Self within Himself; and ad extra, the reign of God’s Self ‘outside’ of Himself, in creation—in all that exists.

The Kingdom Ad Intra


God eternally reigns within Himself, as a Three-Personed God—the Father reigning in the Son as Father, as supreme and only Father; the Son reigning in the Father as Son, as supreme and only Son; and Both by the mutuality of the Holy Spirit, who constitutes and is, as Divine Person, Their very Reign—a Reign of Love. It is not a Reign of superiors and inferiors, for each Divine Person is God, their Reign of Love is Co-Equal.

The Kingdom in this Trinitarian sense, ad intra (within themselves), is analogously a kingdom, it is not a kingdom how we know it: where one party rules another party. This Kingdom, this 'Beyond Kingdom,' if you will, precedes creation and transcends the Church. “Before Abraham was,” the Kingdom was, before “the beginning” there was the Kingdom and it was Goodness Itself. The Kingdom simply “is”.

In the highest and deepest sense the Kingdom is God Himself, Pure Act Itself, the ‘abode’ or ‘locus’ of “pure act, without the admixture of any potentiality” (Aquinas, Summa I Q.9.i.co.). Nothing is in need of doing ‘here,’ nothing awaits fulfillment, nothing wants, or lacks, nothing can be better or improved in this Kingdom, all is complete, perfect, unchangeable but not stagnate, superabundantly alive, beyond anything conceivable—such is the Kingdom of God ad intra, within Himself. A Kingdom enjoyed and ‘populated,’ to use terribly inadequate human terms, by population one-in-three: the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

The Kingdom Ad Extra


Yet we know God has become a Creator—He created the heaven and the earth. More than this, God has entered into covenant with humanity, above all, in Jesus Christ. Thus secondly, the Kingdom of God pertains not only to God's Self in His Self-Sufficiency, but to the divine economy: to the dynamic of God with us, and us with Him (CCC 258-259). Hence inseparable but distinct from the Kingdom ad intra is the Kingdom of God ad extra. Quite simply, it is the Kingdom in its usual signification in respect to the living fact and mystery of God’s indwelling-in His creation that He has made and continually sustains.

This is a concept of "kingdom" we can more easily understand since it is the Kingdom of God which has come among us (Lk 17:21). Everything about the Kingdom of God’s Self within Himself, the Reign of Trinitarian Love, breaks through into time in the Person of Christ. The Trinity wanted to share Itself, Its Triune Nature—the Kingdom of Its Love with all humanity, so that we might “become partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet 1:4). The Kingdom of God, eternally present within Himself, was thus made present in time and place at the moment of the Incarnation in Mary’s womb. Here in this womb the Kingdom of God, as a tiny zygote, was planted like a mustard seed, that over the course of thirty-three years grew into a man whose death on a tree has become the source of life for those who believe in Him.

This is why we hail Christ as King—He brings the reign of God into our midst, in Him we find our humanity united to our God. He is our gate to the Kingdom, and the One who establishes its reign in the world and within our souls. So what about the fallen world outside us, the imperfections visible in the Church, and the sin we see in ourselves and others—all seem to indicate the Kingdom of God is hardly among us.

A Kingdom Yet to Come


Wherever God reigns, there is the Kingdom of God. If God is Love, Truth, All-Merciful, All-Just, All-Good, then the Kingdom is where Love reigns without selfishness, where “mercy and truth have embraced, [where] righteousness and peace have kissed” (Ps 85:10), where Goodness has made its home. To the extent that these attributes of the Kingdom of God are absent in the world and in our life, to that extent the Kingdom of God remains to be fulfilled and actualised therein. To bring about this reign of God requires human cooperation with grace, but ultimately it is a work of grace, a work of the Holy Spirit who uses our hands to serve, our hearts to love, our lips to praise.

Every day we pray in the ‘Our Father,’ “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.” In God the Kingdom already, and forever “is”, it does not need to come, for His Will within Himself is “pure act,” eternally actualised and actualising without impediment. Those who abide in heaven taste and breathe this reality: the Kingdom for them has come, the Will of God in them has been done, and its completion is eternally unfolding in their beatitude.

It is in the created order that the Kingdom awaits fulfillment, and although this includes the blessed in general as a whole, almost all of whom await the reception of their resurrected bodies, it namely applies to the order of creation ‘below,’ the fallen universe, the fallen human race and pilgrim Church on earth. The Will of God, which “desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim 2:4) and to “become partakers of the divine nature,” is yet to be actualised completely and totally “on earth as it is in heaven,” and thus we have been commanded by our Lord to pray for its “coming,” just as we pray and wait for the final coming of the Lord.

The human soul is of course the focal point of the Coming-Kingdom for which we pray. It is the battle-ground between Divine and satanic claims to reign therein, the former alluring, the latter tempting, the human will to ‘let it in’.

Essentially the Kingdom of God comes about “on earth” not in rocks nor trees, nor in koalas, however cute they be, nor in human societies as a whole, but in a communion of individual human souls who together make-up the Body of the Church, whether they know it or not. It is via the soul that the Kingdom expands its presence “on earth,” and this brings about a transformed society and a natural creation, including the trees, rocks and koalas, brought nearer to its Creator by means of the mediation of its divinised stewards: pilgrim saints, who speak the praises to God that mute creation is unable to. Although it is sound to believe there will be a time of universal peace, when the Church will flourish and God’s Will shall be largely done “on earth as it is in heaven,” as taught by many fathers, doctors and saints, it is only with the Second Coming of Christ, at the very end, when God’s Kingdom shall be perfectly established on earth. The Catechism summarises as follows:

Though already present in his Church, Christ's reign is nevertheless yet to be fulfilled "with power and great glory" by the King's return to earth. This reign is still under attack by the evil powers, even though they have been defeated definitively by Christ's Passover. Until everything is subject to him, "until there be realized new heavens and a new earth in which justice dwells, the pilgrim Church, in her sacraments and institutions, which belong to this present age, carries the mark of this world which will pass, and she herself takes her place among the creatures which groan and travail yet and await the revelation of the sons of God." That is why Christians pray, above all in the Eucharist, to hasten Christ's return by saying to him: Marana tha! "Our Lord, come!" (CCC 671).

A Kingdom Already Come


Yet although we have been commanded to pray for the ‘coming of the Kingdom,’ there is a paradoxical truth to be kept in mind—what awaits fulfillment in the created order, and is yet to come about in the pilgrim Church, is already complete in Christ who is the Head of the Church and “firstborn of creation” (Col 1:18, 24, 15 resp.). “For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified,” (Heb 10:14), “and through Him reconciled all things to Himself, having made peace [shlama in Aramaic, shalom in Hebrew—"making complete”] by the blood of His cross, through Him, whether things on earth, or things in heaven.” (Col 1:20).

In short, the Kingdom for which we pray to come, simply “is” in Christ, in Him it has already come and its dominion is eternal, without border or scope, its full power made manifest in His Person.

The Kingdom "has come" in Christ in two distinct yet interconnected ways: in Himself as Person, and in Himself as Head of the Church. Firstly, by the very fact of His divine nature, as a Divine Person, He belongs to the Trinitarian Communion, the Trinitarian Kingdom. So that from the moment of the Word's Incarnation the Kingdom had come. It was wholly in Him. 

Secondly, the Kingdom "has come" in Christ via His Paschal Mystery. That is, by the redeeming and sanctifying works He carried out as God-Man, substituting His humanity for our own, so that the Kingdom already wholly in Him, might be wholly in us, the rest of humanity. This is the Kingdom in the aspect of gift. Hence the Kingdom was not only established in Christ's own individual humanity, but the entire phenomenon of the restoration of humanity to God's Kingdom abides in Him. Paul speaks of this: "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" (Eph 1:3).

Hence, first the Kingdom of the Trinity took abode in the perfect humanity of Christ, It then conquered human nature itself in Christ, through the Paschal Mystery. Christ's glorified humanity is proof of God's loving reign established not just in Christ as Person, but in Christ's Body the Church. What remains to be done is the ‘transferal’ or ‘transmission’ of the Kingdom in Christ to His members. The Reign and Headship of Christ must pour down from He the Head of the Church to us its pilgrim members.

This requires our submission to the reign of Christ—an offense to the modern ear. But there is no other way around it, we must submit ourselves to the lordship and dominion of God in Christ, not as slaves, but as children who acknowledge the greatness and might of our source. We come as creatures to our Creator, as children to our Father, as disciples to our Master, as members of Christ’s Body, clothed in the royal dignity of His Blood. Such is the power of the Eucharist we receive. Christ is our King and we belong to Him not as something apart from Himself, but as flesh of His flesh, blood of His blood. Words similar to what Adam used when he first saw Eve—this is the kind of love God has for us. He does not want slaves nor servants. He wants to reign in us so that we might reign in Him “forever and ever” (Rev 22:5).

Allowing God to Reign in Us


The motif of allowing God to reign in our life has almost become a cliché in many Christian circles. This should not lead us to undermine its importance, but it should also lead us to caution, since what we often hear in this regard is a good message, but half the message. The extent to which God must reign in our life and what this means can only be fully realised and appreciated in the light of explicit Catholic faith and teaching, which benefits from “the fullness of the means of salvation”—“of grace and truth entrusted to the Church” by Christ who said: “you are Peter, and on this rock [and not another] I will build My church” (Mt 16:18).[7]

Every person is called to submit themselves to God’s reign, doing so by surrendering to God, acknowledging Him as one’s Father and Lord, believing Him and in the one whom He has sent for the remission of our sins (Jn 6:29). Most Protestants, especially evangelicals, are adept at making personal declarations of faith and surrender to God in Christ.

Jesus, I accept you as my Lord and Saviour, come into my life, reign in it. I believe in your unconditional love for me. Fill me with your love.

It’s a shame Catholics do not do this more often. It’s basic to Christianity itself and must complement our sacramental life. Making repeated acts of faith in Jesus and God’s love for us should colour our private prayer.

But there is more to merely being in the state of grace, possessing as it were the gift of salvation in Christ (Eph 2:8) which can indeed be lost through sin, although retainable through repentance.[8] For any Christian soul who is not in the state of mortal sin, possesses sanctifying grace. And as we know, there is a big difference between simply ‘not being in mortal sin’ and ‘being a saint’. To merely possess sanctifying grace is only the beginning of allowing Christ to reign in us: it’s to possess the mustard seed. The mustard seed still needs to grow. In the words of Peter: “you must grow in respect to salvation” (lit. in the Greek, “you must grow in/into salvation”).[9]

How God Reigned in the Humanity of Christ


God wants to reign in us totally and completely, just as He did in Christ’s humanity. To appreciate what this means let us envisage Christ’s humanity: He had a soul, with the faculties of an intellect that had human thoughts, a memory that had human memories, and a human will that made free acts. Christ in His humanity had an imagination too, a body, and did every manner of chaste and ordinary act common to human life—eating, drinking, sleeping, working, walking, praying, talking, and so on. Then we consider all the breaths He made, heartbeats, and all the tiny cellular movements that took place in His flesh. In all these countless actions, volitional and autonomous, there was not only a human nature at work, but a divine nature. All that Christ did in His humanity, His Divinity did too, through His humanity. Thus, every action of Christ’s humanity was a perfect act of praise, glory and love offered to the Father, on behalf of every human being and all creation, in reparation for the absence of such praise, glory and love in our actions.

‘Do Everything in the Name of the Lord’


If this is what God’s reign looked like in Christ our Head, then what does God’s reign look like in us who are the members of His Body? It will involve the fulfilment of Paul’s decree: “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Col 3:17). We know that when we die and approach the judgement seat of God, every action of our lives will appear in a mighty line, either shining with glory for the Lord, tepidly dim, or dark in sin. “For God will being every act into judgement, including every secret thing, whether good or evil” (Eccles 12:14).

For the most part one can imagine that most people’s actions in life are perhaps neither light nor dark, simply carried out as a matter of course, with neither bad intent, nor a divine motivation. Such acts are ‘grey,’ ‘nothing acts’. As Catholics we are very familiar with the concept of “offering it up,” but we often limit this understanding to pains suffered, as though that alone can be offered up to God. But, short of sin, and granted that crosses are objectively greater offerings, nevertheless, everything in our lives, even the supposed ‘bland acts,’ are worthy of being offered to God, because Christ who became one of us, sanctified human existence. Even sin can be offered to God, not as a positive offering of love, for sure, but as an offering surrendered in loving repentance which God can transform, covering over its ugliness with the beauty of what should have been done instead.

We really should be madly obsessed with surrendering everything to God, impregnating as it were, all ours actions with love and praise, asking Jesus to take our acts and make them His, to supply for their lack, and that nothing we do would fail to give anything but perfect glory to God. Our first prayer when waking should offer up the day that will be, and our final prayer upon sleeping should offer up the day that has been. Even past years, decades, can be offered up, it’s never too late, “today is the day of salvation” (2 Cor 6:2).

Every act we do united with Jesus and His acts, become powerful, animated by the Holy Spirit, and are capable of mediating Christ’s saving and sanctifying power into the world of men, ministering to needs beyond our knowing, even for the benefit of the holy souls in purgatory. The glorified humanity of Christ has done its work, now it’s our turn, and He wants our humanity to repeat the reign He established within Himself. Our humanity becomes a substrate for God to work anew, through Christ, in this world—the mystery of the Incarnation, with all its redeeming and sanctifying power, expanding in us.

Our thoughts, are so precious, that St. John of the Cross wrote: “One human thought alone is worth more than the entire world, hence God alone is worthy of it.”[10] The same can be said about all our acts: they are precious in the sight of God. He wants everything. “He’s a jealous God” (Ex 34:14). Our memories, even the bad ones, can be offered to God sealed with the loving intention that it make reparation for those who use their memories to relive past sins, or to stir up grudges. Our heartbeat, breaths, steps, can be offered up as little acts of love. The possibilities are innumerable.

Just imagine arriving at the judgement seat of God, and thanks be to His teaching and grace, that we had continually practiced surrendering our acts to Him as an offering of praise, love and thanksgiving etc., so that He could reign therein. That no sin of ours had been left unrepented, unconfessed, and that God’s love had so dominated our lives, and charged our actions, even the smallest, that there was nothing left for God to purify in our souls. “Whatever you ask in My name, this I will do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.” (Jn 14:13).

God’s Reign in Mary


In turning to Mary, we see exactly what the fulfillment of our ideal looks like. Here is a soul, a creature—unlike Christ, who even though possessing a human nature remained God—in whom God’s reign was made fully manifest. Hence the appellation by the angel: “Hail, full of grace,” and by Elizabeth, “blessed are you among women”. We know Christ the King already established the Kingdom perfectly in His own humanity, but in Mary we see the perfect and successful transmission of that very Kingdom into a creature. She is the culmination of God’s reign in the created order, the crowning jewel of Christ’s Church, and no other creature will surpass what God has done in Her. The words spoken to Judith in the Old Testament apply to Mary: “You are the exaltation of Jerusalem, you are the great glory of Israel, you are the splendid boast of our people!” (Judith 15:9).

We have then our King who is Christ and our Queen who is Mary, the former, God Himself, the latter, the Mother of God, a human creature chosen and elected by God. Mary dared to ask that God would reign in Her and this He did in the Person of Christ Her King. We see a foreshadowing of this mystery in the Old Testament: “And King Solomon gave to the queen of Sheba all that she desired, whatever she asked.” (2 Chron 9:12).

It is now our turn to ask the King that He would reign in us and in all our acts, and what better way than honouring the Queen in our prayer and homes, asking Her for this favour also. He who changed the water into wine at Her bequest will surely not fail to divinise our acts if She so asks. Consider how the Persian King Ahasuerus, a temperamental human being, treated his queen: “And the king said to her, ‘What is it, Queen Esther? What is your request? It shall be given you, even to the half of my kingdom.’” (Est 5:3). Christ would offer far more to His Queen Mother, and in fact He did, even to the fullness of His Kingdom, and hence the Church meditates and celebrates the coronation of Mary as Queen, just as Jesus is honoured as King, especially on the feast of Christus Rex.

Our Personal Coronation of the King and Queen


“The Kingdom of God” as a concept is something which can go over our heads. It’s so easy to wind our way down theological paths that go this way and that, lost in the realm of abstraction. But when we put faces to this Kingdom, when we have a King and Queen, and names to give them, Jesus and Mary, we find ourselves planted on the ground, securely in the mystery of the Incarnation. This after all, is what God wants for us—the Kingdom came to us in human flesh, “born of a woman” (Gal 4:4), and He does not want us to invent elaborate paths that negate the King and Queen He has given us.

God Himself has anointed and crowned Jesus as King, and Mary as Queen, and both reign now in heaven. We ourselves, whether Christian, atheist, neo-pagan or Satanist, have already crowned Jesus and Mary as King and Queen, involuntarily by default, simply by the fact of our sins which God’s providence used in their coronation. Our sins fashioned the crown of thorns for Jesus’ coronation on the cross. Our sins caused Jesus to bleed, by which He anointed His Mother as Queen as She stood at the cross. This sorrowful coronation we mystically repeat every time we sin.

But what remains for us to do is to carry out our own personal coronation of Jesus and Mary, not the sorrowful one which our sins carry out, but a glorious one. God has crowned Jesus and Mary as King and Queen in glory, and He did so through the ministration of the angels. The blessed in heaven have already done the same, and the purging souls are in the process of completing their personal coronation of Jesus and Mary. We, the Church on earth, must do the same. If the reign of God wants to establish itself in our soul, in our lives, and in our every act, then to bring this reign to perfection we must coronate, as it were, Jesus and Mary in our souls, in our lives and in our every act; doing so also as a Body, in the liturgy, in fellowship and in our homes. Everything we do must worship Jesus as King, and hail Mary as Queen. God Himself has done it, now it’s our turn. This will enable the reign of God to actualise itself in us and “on the earth”—giving permission to God, in His King and Queen, to reign.

Much could be said on this, but it’s time for this article to end. If one piece of advice was given to aid in going about this, we would have to simply point to St. Joseph who did exactly all this perfectly. In the words of the Egyptian King, “Go to Joseph; what he says to you, do” (Gen 41:55), because he who was made Father to Jesus, has been “made a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah” (Is 22:21), he will instruct by the Holy Spirit, the children of the Kingdom—how to live in it, how to honour its King and Queen, and those who listen to and heed the silent witness of his life “shall enter the kingdom of heaven.” For it is not those who say “Lord, Lord. King, King. Queen, Queen,” that “shall enter the kingdom of heaven,” but he who does on earth the will of the Father in heaven (Mt 7:21).


[1] “The Kingdom of heaven,” literally, “heavens” in Greek, is a synonym for the Kingdom of God whose principal abode and dominion is “in the heavens”.

[2] Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI), Jesus of Nazareth: From the Baptism in the Jordan to the Transfiguration, vol 1., (New York: Doubleday, 2007), 49-50.

[3] This, among other direct statements, is in direct contradiction of those who claim such a stance was pre-conciliar, and that the council itself ‘did away’ with it. For example, Richard McBrien in The Church: The Evolution of Catholicism (New York: HarperOne, 2009) wrongly asserts: “This teaching is in contrast to the common preconcillar assumption that the Church is the Kingdom of God on earth. Thus, parables of the Kingdom were regularly interpreted by preaches, catechists, and theologians alike as parables of the Church. The tendency to equate the Church with the Kingdom of God was denounced as a form of “triumphalism” in a famous intervention at Vatican II by Bishop Emile Jozef De Smedt (d. 1995) of Bruges, Belgium.”(180). However, all documentative evidence to the contrary. True, the Kingdom of God cannot solely be understood in narrow ecclesiological terms, but genuine ecclesiology is necessarily Christocentric and pertains to the mystery of God.

[4] Op.cit., Ratzinger, 61.

[5] Stuhlmacher, Biblische Theologie, I, p.67, in op.cit., Ratzinger, 55.

[6] This basic principle is integral to the Jewish thought that is at the root of this Christian understanding. The Shekinah, God’s Presence, is associated with Malkut—the kingship, reign or kingdom of God.

[7] Vatican II, Unitatis Redintegratio, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_decree_19641121_unitatis-redintegratio_en.html, 3 § 4-5. See also CCC 816.

[8] For Catholics, possessing the knowledge of the sacrament of Confession as something ordained by Christ (Jn 20:23), the desire to confess to a priest, and the ratification of this as soon as possible (if concretely possible), is required for the forgiveness of mortal sin. A forgiveness technically already granted in Christ, and bestowed through perfect contrition even before confession—but the desire to, and act of confessing, is integral to the genuineness of a Catholic’s perfect contrition. Protestants who are ignorant of the sacrament, are objectively speaking, not under this law set by Christ and clarified by His Church, and thus even forgiveness of mortal sin via perfect contrition does not require the desire to confess, or action of confessing to a Catholic priest. Still, the latter is in an impoverished position, lacking the unique and efficacious gift of the sacrament Christ Himself instituted.

[9] αὐξηθῆτε εἰς σωτηρίαν

[10] The Sayings of Light and Love, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh and Otilio Rodriguez (1991).