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).

Monday, 2 September 2019

Just Think, What Love the Father Has for Us

When we survey the Gospels, we find that the earliest recorded words of Christ are about His Father.

The Passover feast has ended, and Mary and Joseph are on their way back from Jerusalem when they realise they have lost the twelve-year old child Jesus. Tradition (apart from logic) informs us of the great sorrow that befell Mary and Joseph. They search for him and on the third day they finally find him in the Temple. “Son, why have you treated us so?” Mary asks, concerned and confused as to why their perfect God-Son has put them through the grinder. “Behold your father and I have been looking for you anxiously.”

Jesus’ words are brief. A mere “statement” or “saying” (Lk 2:50) spoken from the lips of a child, almost with a teenager-like smack if the words weren’t also laden with the mystery, weight and authority of a God: “Why is it that you were looking for me? Did you not know that it is fitting for me to be in my Father’s house?” (Lk 2:49).

The last words of Jesus recorded in the Gospels before His death are likewise directed to the Father. “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit” (Lk 23:46).

As we know, the Holy Spirit is the ultimate author of the Gospels. Out of all the words spoken by Jesus that could have been recorded as His ‘first words’ in the Gospels, the account at the Temple was chosen according to divine decree, by means of the Evangelist Luke. Here the subject is the Father as is the final words of Jesus before His death.

The Father was constantly on the human mind of Jesus—Jesus who was one in substance with the Father according to His divinity. His humanity made manifest this profound oneness with the Father, His marvellous unity and relationship with the Father.

Jesus tells us plainly, especially through the Evangelist John. He was sent by the Father, sent on mission into the world to turn the hearts of straggling humanity back to their Father (Jn 7; Mal 4:6).

“No one has ever seen God,” writes St. John, but “the only begotten God, the one being in the bosom of the Father, He has made Him known” (1 Jn 1:18).

Thus Jesus can boldly and beautifully say, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (Jn 14:9). We don’t know what the Father looks like, He is pure spirit, non-material, beyond all sight. Yet in Jesus we can “see” the Father. The Greek root word used as a participle here (ὁ ἑωρακὼς) is richer than mere physical seeing, it’s a seeing with the mind, and an experiential knowing. “Whoever has known, whoever has experienced me has known and experienced the Father”.

Thus Paul can say “He is the image of the unseen God” (Col 1:15), and John can write, that concerning “the Word of life,” Jesus “the only begotten [Son] of God” who has made the Father ‘seeable’ and known: Him “we have seen with our eyes… and our hands have touched”.

“Behold what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and we are!” (1 Jn 3:1). Here we are entering some of the most beautiful passages in the Scripture. Yet the passage can also be translated as follows: “Behold what love the Father has placed in us, that we should be called children of God”.

St. John then directs himself to us: “Beloved,” or more properly, “Beloved ones, now children of God we are, and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be. But we know that when He appears, we will be like Him, for we will see Him as He is” (3:2).

Recall the Creed, “I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God… consubstantial with the Father”. “Consubstantial,” meaning “with same substance” or “of one substance” translating the Latin consubstantiálem, which translates the Greek term: homoousios. When John writes, “We know that when he appears we will be like Him” the word for “like” is homoioi (ὅμοιοι) the same root used in the Greek word for consubstantial: homoousios.

However, we know that we cannot be one in substance with the Father. Our likeness will not be a likeness by virtue of substance but by virtue of grace—a likeness to God accomplished by grace.

This is precisely what Jesus came into the world to do. He came on a mission from the Father to make us into children, into sons and daughters of God. To make us one with the Father just as He is one with the Father.

We tend to complicate things—this is what our faith is about. It’s the purpose of the sacraments, the reason for the Church, the ultimate plan God has for us, and the purpose of our vocations and lives: to come to Jesus, to believe in Him, to enter Him and there be one with the Father—to love the Father in Jesus Christ, as another Christ, as son, as child, with the Holy Spirit who is the Love of the Father for the Son, and who is the Love of the Son for the Father, given to us as gift, so that we might love with this Love who is the Holy Spirit. The Spirit who pounds in our hearts, hovers over our lives, whirls throughout creation as its sustaining power, and which above all causes us to cry “Abba! Father!” (Rom 8:15).

After all, “this is how you should pray,” said Jesus, “Our Father…”

“All who have this confident hope” to call on the Father as child, “purifies himself, just as He [the Father] is pure” (1 Jn 3:3) and will be fashioned more and more into the likeness of the only Son.

Earthly fathers, fatherly figures and parental roles are all meant to serve as little signs of the Father and His love for us. Not all are privileged with loving fathers, some of us are, we should be thankful for that and we can use our love for our own fathers as spring boards to love the Father in heaven. Yet whatever the case, the Father through Jesus His Son has sent His Love into our hearts as Holy Spirit: placed in us at baptism, fortified by confirmation, enkindled by prayer and acts of love. Nothing can thwart this Love.

Just think, “what love the Father has placed in us, that we should be called children of God… and that when He appears,” and when we appear before Him, “we will be like Him, for we will see Him as He really is”.

Monday, 24 June 2019

Corpus Christi: The New Showbread


Temple priests replacing the showbread each week, Henry Bill (1871).


In the Jewish Temple, in front of the Holy of Holies, there stood a gold-gilded table upon which unleavened bread was placed. The bread was called lechem hapanim – ‘bread of the presence’ or ‘bread of the face,’ often translated in English as ‘showbread’.

“Showbread” does not reflect the Hebrew well but it does capture the fact that the bread was ‘on display’—visible at least to the Levitical priests who had access to the interior of the Temple, and shown to the people three times a year. In Exodus the Lord commands that the bread should be set “on the table before me always” (25:30). In Leviticus we read that a total of twelve loaves were stacked on the table, six in each stack. Every Sabbath the bread was to be eaten by the priests “in a holy place” and then replaced with twelve fresh loaves (Lev 24:5-9).

Three times a year, when the people of Israel made the pilgrimage to the Temple—on Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot—the priests would present the table and the showbread exclaiming: “Look at how beloved you are by God!”[1]

The Medieval Jewish commentator Maimonides was perplexed by the lechem hapanim. He confessed that he could not find in the Rabbinical Tradition any explanations for the commandment.[2]

For a Catholic however, the meaning is clear: we have here in the Old Testament a foreshadowing of the sacrament of the Eucharist— the New Covenant’s Lechem Hapanim, the true, real and ultimate ‘Bread of the Presence’. The Eucharist is nothing less than the fulfillment of this ancient temple ritual. On this feast of Corpus Christi it will be worth exploring how the Eucharist is its fulfillment.

How the “Showbread’s” Made


The Talmud states that the ‘bread of the presence’ was made by the Garmus family, who kept the recipe a secret. One time they were asked to share the secret by the Sages but they refused. Dismissed from their duty, others attempted to make it, but without the recipe the bread would go mouldy and stale before the week’s end. The Garmus family were reappointed but the Sages wanted to know why they kept the recipe a secret. The family explained: “We know that the Temple will be destroyed, and we are concerned that an unworthy man will learn how to bake the showbread and use it to serve an idol.”[3]

The Garmus family were thus seemingly appointed by God to make the showbread, and without them, the bread was unable to be made. We see a parallel in the ministerial priesthood of the Catholic Church: the spiritual Garmus family as it were, entrusted with being the instruments through whom Christ makes the Showbread of the New Covenant—and without this precious gift of the ordained priesthood, there would be no transubstantiation:  (trans – across; ‘moving across substance’) from simple bread to bread that veils the Divine Presence.

What is called “the secret” (secreta) in the Tridentine Mass, and contained in the prayer over the offerings in the Ordinary Form, which the priest recites during the Eucharistic Liturgy, is in a way symbolic of ‘the Eucharistic secret’ they have received at ordination. A secret first whispered into the ears of the Apostles and passed on from Bishops to priests since—conferring the unique ability to reside over the consecration of the bread and wine.

In the Old Law only “Aaron and his sons,” the Levitical priests, were allowed to eat the showbread (Lev 24:9), but in the New Law all the faithful are summoned to feast on the Lechem Hapanim, the Bread of God’s Real Presence and the Bread of God’s Face. Since although the ministerial priesthood alone can consecrate the Bread, all the baptised share in the general priesthood of Christ (CCC 1268). So that while ‘the Eucharistic secret’ is entrusted to the Bishops, and in turn to the priests, it is received by and belongs in turn to all the faithful. In the words of Pope St. John Paul II: “With the Eucharist we digest, as it were, the ‘secret’ of the resurrection.”[4]

Twelve Baskets


There were twelve loaves of showbread in the Temple serving as a memorial of what God had done in the wilderness for the whole nation of Israel with all its twelve tribes. In the Gospels we notice also that after the feeding of the five-thousand there were twelve baskets of bread and fish leftover—corresponding in turn to the twelve tribes of Israel founded upon the twelve sons of Jacob, foreshadowing the twelve Apostles, the spiritual sons of the New Jacob (Christ), upon whom the spiritual Israel of the Church was to be founded (Lk 9). The meaning runs deeper than a mere parallel when we consider other Scriptural accounts.

In Matthew we read that one Sabbath Jesus is strolling with His disciples as they pick grain along the way to eat. The Pharisees become upset at this, forbidden as it was according to their extra-stringent reading of the law. Jesus responds, referring to an account recorded in 1 Samuel (21:1-9):

"Have you not read what David did, when he was hungry, and those who were with him: how he entered the house of God and ate the bread of the Presence, which it was not lawful for him to eat nor for those who were with him, but only for the priests?" (Mt 12:3-4)

On a different note, we read elsewhere in the Gospels the command of Christ at the Last Supper when He commissioned the Apostles “To do this,” to consecrate bread and wine, to celebrate the Eucharist, “in memory of me”. On another seemingly unrelated note recall the words of John who tells us that Jesus understood His Body to be the fulfillment of the Temple (Jn 2:21). As the Jews would gather to worship at the Temple, it was now in Him that worshippers, Jew and Gentile alike, were to gather as ‘one Body’ in the Spirit for the glory of the Father (Jn 4:23).

Let’s tie these scriptures together. In the Eucharist we have Jesus, the Son of David, reaching into the Temple of His Person to give His whole Self—the Bread of His Presence.

In the Eucharist we have the single Passion of Jesus made manifest. At the consecration, when the priest breaks the Bread, we have Jesus breaking open the Temple of His Body before us and opening the way for we who believe in Him to “take and eat” from the wooden table of the Cross, gilded with blood not gold, the Bread of His Heart, the Bread of His Love. If we strain our eyes in faith we will see Love in a tiny host on the table of the Eucharistic altar; and if we strain our ears in faith we will hear the angels and saints exclaiming like the Levetical priests of old: “Look at how beloved you are by God!”

In the Eucharist Christ’s resurrection is not a past phenomenon but a present reality unfolding before us. As the priest comes forth from the altar with Communion, here we have our Lord rising from the dead, coming forth through eternity aflame with love as piping hot bread. He comes as One Bread but broken into a myriad pieces to satisfy the hunger of those who seek His Face. From the Holy of Holies of heaven He strolls through the generations picking the ordinary wheat the Church has to offer, and giving it out instead, transformed as the Bread of His Presence.

There used to be twelve loaves in the Temple; and when Christ fed the multitude, twelve baskets of bread remained. In one way the twelve loaves in the old Temple can be taken to symbolise the foreknowledge and desire God had to give Himself in the Person of the Word in the Holy Eucharist. A foreknowledge possessed from eternity, and a harboured desire that had to wait to be realised in time, so that its realisation and mystery was ‘locked up,’ as it were, for millennia.

At the Last Supper this desire was finally realised: the Showbread of heaven was brought out from the sanctuary of Christ’s Person and in commissioning the twelve Apostles “To do this,” to consecrate and distribute the Holy Bread, it was as though each Apostle received a basket from Christ containing the total sum of every Eucharistic host ever consecrated—from the first to the last. Since in these twelve Apostles, Mathias taking over Judas’ place, every priest, and therefore, every celebration of the Eucharist can trace its origin. The Apostles went forth throughout the world, the basket of the Eucharistic mystery in-hand, and in a way, every Eucharist has come from these twelve baskets, which in turn have come from the Table of the Last Supper on earth, and from the Altar of the Father in heaven. We don't all have the ministry of distributing the Eucharist as ordained priests, but we can all do so spiritually by Eucharistic-living: by breaking ourselves up in love and allowing Christ to distribute Himself through us to the world.

A Perpetual Decree


All that is complete and fulfilled in Christ’s own Body—life, death and resurrection—simply remains to be actualised in most of Christ’s Mystic Body the Church (Heb 10). Apart from Our Lady, even St. Joseph (i.e. see Frances de Sales), and perhaps a few others whom tradition hints at—even the glorified souls in heaven await the literal completion of the Paschal Mystery in themselves, by waiting for their resurrected bodies. The suffering souls in purgatory await the completion of the death of Christ in themselves through their purgation, so that they might arrive at the spiritual realisation of the resurrection in beatitude. Those who have died do not receive the sacrament of the Eucharist. True, they do ‘receive Communion’ mediated through Christ’s Humanity, but in a different mode—they are either ‘in the que to Eternal Communion’ (purgatory) or ‘in Holy Communion’ (heaven). Thus what is already fulfilled in Christ’s Body is realised in the souls in purgatory and heaven, His suffering and triumphant members, outside the ordinary sacramental means which is established for pilgrim souls.

For the pilgrim Church—the Church on earth—the Eucharist is the established sacramental means of realising in Her members what is already fulfilled in Christ. Hence all that is complete and fulfilled in Christ’s own Body, necessarily contained in His Sacramental and Eucharistic Body, simply remains to be, in a manner of speaking, transubstantiated into Christ’s Mystic Body the Church on earth. What is complete in Christ our Head is in need of moving across (trans) into us His members.

“Verily I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass away, not one jot, not one tittle shall pass away from the law until it is fulfilled” (Mt 5:18). The entire law is already fulfilled in Christ, and because Christ is entirely present in the Eucharist, the Eucharist is the fulfillment of the law. In the words of Lumen Gentium: “The Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life.”

In Leviticus, where we find the instructions concerning the Bread of the Presence, we find two important Hebrew words stating its importance: chaq olam, translating to “an everlasting ordinance” or “perpetual decree” (24:9). Thus the Bread of the Presence and the law surrounding it is stated by God to be “everlasting” and perpetual”. The Jewish Temple is long gone, and the showbread hasn’t been made for two-thousand years. Yet Christ the Living Temple stands in full splendour, Its embodiment in the Church will endure, and the Showbread of the Eucharist has been around for two-thousand years. The “perpetual decree” of the showbread has not “passed away” but it has been fulfilled in the Eucharist which will endure as “an everlasting ordinance” until the end of the world when it too will be fulfilled with the consummation of the Church and the entire universe in Christ (Col 1).

It is amazing to think that since the time of the Apostles the Table of the Church has never lacked the Showbread of the Eucharist. As the Garmus family kept the old showbread supplied each Sabbath, so too, the Church through Her ministers has kept the supply of the New Showbread renewed. A supply which in a spiritual sense is a multiplication of the first loaf broken by Christ in the cenacle.

With perpetual reverence Aaron and the Levitical priests treated the old showbread. How much more must we the pilgrim Church, perhaps not all belonging to the ministerial priesthood, but certainly to the “royal priesthood,” (1 Pet 2:9) treat the New Showbread who is Jesus Himself, God and Man disguised and present in our midst? What a wonderful thing to “show” our Eucharistic Lord on the altars of our churches, elevated and on display in a monstrance for the People of God to see. How excellent it would be to try our best to “show” this Holy Bread perpetually, to work together to adore Him perpetually ‘on earth as He is in heaven’.



[2] Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed, part 3, chp., 45.
[4] Ecclesiae de Eucharistia, 18.