Kings and kingdoms go hand in hand. A king is not a king if he doesn’t have a kingdom. A kingdom is not a kingdom if it doesn’t have a king. Old Testament texts that talk about the coming of the kingdom imply the coming of the king, just as texts that talk about the coming of the king imply the coming of his kingdom.
It is possible to see the kingdom as the horse and the king as the cart. In this case, we can imagine people finding the kingdom and then being led from kingdom to king. It is equally possible to see the kingdom as the cart and the king as the horse. In this case, they find the king and are led from king to kingdom.
There are many who have thought that they have found the king who will give them the kingdom. Theudas, after all, claimed to be “somebody,” and while 400 men rallied to him, “he was killed” and “all his followers were dispersed” (Acts 5:36). As Christ warns, “False messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect” (Matt. 24:24). Yet we might ask why such followers were deceived in the first place. And there is reason to believe that they had, in fact, conceived of the kingdom as the horse and the king as the cart.
This was the problem of the Pharisees. They had a preconceived notion of the nature of the coming kingdom based on the experience of the successful Maccabean revolt. Since they were looking for national grandeur, and therefore the death of their enemies, they had no interest in Jesus once he asked them to love their enemies and pray for those who persecute them (Matt. 5:44).
The people of Nazareth, too, were interested in what Jesus had to say, but only until he exposed their prejudices by endorsing the ministries of Elijah and Elisha on behalf of the widow in Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian (Luke 4:25-27). There is reason to believe that the disciples equally allowed their preconceived notions of the kingdom to become the horse pushing the cart, for when Jesus told them that he would willingly give himself over to his adversaries, Peter cried out “Never, Lord! … This shall never happen to you” (Matt. 16:22).
There are also in the New Testament, happily, those who put the horse before the cart, those who encounter the King and allow this encounter to determine their understanding of the kingdom. They managed to do so, miraculously, not through their insight or cunning but through the King’s gracious self-disclosure. Simeon and Anna are prototypical in this regard, as they see the Christ child and immediately behold him through the revelation of the Holy Spirit (Luke 2:27, 38). Philip and Nathanael can also be interpreted along these lines as those who behold Christ as King (John 1:45, 49), and then are patiently led by him to re-envision the kingdom they hope for.
But we might also note that the disciples were still guilty of putting the cart before the horse even after they encountered the crucified and risen LORD. They asked him, “Are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). Their gaze was still set on the fulfillment of their projected kingdom aspirations, failing to realize that these were all fulfilled in the person standing before them.
They were, perhaps, guilty of the sin Dietrich Bonhoeffer names in Life Together. Having set their sights on the fulfillment of their human wishes and dreams, they still expected Jesus to realize them in the community he had established (34). Had they persisted, they would have destroyed the fledgling Church, for “Every human idealized image that is brought into community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be broken up so that genuine community can survive” (35-37).
Jesus, though, mercifully puts this nonsense to an end when he gives the disciples the gift of his enduring presence through the coming of his Spirit (Acts 1:7-8, 2:1-4). Another way of saying this is that God’s gift of himself, in Christ and through the Holy Spirit, is the gift of the kingdom.
In The Divine Conspiracy, Dallas Willard defines the kingdom as “God’s rule in action” (26). Willard affirms that this kingdom is present in Jesus (29). But his chief aim is to give a participatory account that distinguishes between King and kingdom. Christians have, for too long, Willard argues, simply assumed that bringing the kingdom is Jesus’ business and not ours. For Willard, the Christian who prays “Thy kingdom come” (Matt. 6:9) so that God’s reign might be manifest “on earth as it is in heaven” (6:10) is drawn into its fulfillment: “With this prayer we are invoking it, as in faith we are acting it, into the real world of our daily existence,” he says (26).
Willard’s delightful account of the kingdom has been transformative for many. It powerfully explains the New Testament’s claim of dynamic inbreaking, in which the disciples, no doubt, participate. Yet the New Testament witness never calls upon Christians to “bring the kingdom” since the kingdom is something that only the King can bring.
The closest Paul comes to using such language is his description of Aristarchus, Mark, Barnabas, and Justus as “co-workers for the kingdom of God” (Col. 4:11). But even this statement cannot be interpreted apart from Paul’s deep conviction that “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow” (1 Cor. 3:6). Given this testimony, the ambition of the social gospel and the more recent ambition to “occupy” seven spheres of society to establish God’s kingdom on earth seems wrongheaded. The King brings the kingdom with him as he comes, and Christians enter, as citizens, as they repent and put their faith in him (Matt. 3:2; Mark 1:15; Luke 4:43; John 3:3).
If we wish to speak of human participation in the bringing of the kingdom, we must, therefore, speak of something many now seem to ignore: the kerygma, the proclamation that Christ, the crucified and risen LORD, is King. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that in the Book of Revelation it is the martyrs, as those who have been victorious “by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony,” who are celebrated as partakers in Christ’s eschatological reign (Rev. 12:11).
When the Bible speaks about the ancient vocation to honor the poor or invest in building society, it doesn’t use kingdom language. It speaks rather of vocation, obedience, and responsibility. The kingdom-building that comes as a result of the work of human initiative is almost always described as a work of arrogance and tyranny, and it often contributes to the construction of beastly empires (i.e., Gen. 11:1-9; Jer. 22:13; Ezek. 28: Dan. 4:30-32; 7:1-7; Luke 12:16-21; Acts 12:19-23; Rev. 13:1-2).
It is possible for preachers to use the pedestals they have been given to contribute to this beastly work. But the true evangelist releases the Word of God into the world and then steps back to behold this Word at work (Isa. 55:11; Heb. 4:12). Such a person lets go of kingdom-building aspirations and invites the King to claim that which is rightfully his. It’s a frightening work, because the world that rejects its King will reject those who proclaim his rule (Luke 10:16). But it is also a wonderful release. The evangelist gladly casts aside his claim to the throne and becomes a herald for the royal wedding banquet of the universe’s rightful King (Luke 14:15-24).
The world, of course, needs evangelism, since it is the invitation to profess the name of the King before whom every knee must bow (Phil. 2:10). But the Church needs evangelism too, since it is the surest way to put the cart behind the horse. The Christian who proclaims Christ as King invites the King to bring his kingdom. The Christian who refuses to do so often does his own kingdom-building and then expects the King to show up.
I take no pride or delight in saying this. God only knows that I am, as a timid evangelist, the chief of sinners in this regard (1 Tim. 1:15). But I do see this, and clearly: The King does not sit in the cart, watching us ride ahead of him. He comes riding on a white horse, and when he comes the kingdom that he alone can bring follows swiftly after—the cart follows the horse (Rev. 19:11). The answer to the second petition of the Lord’s Prayer—“thy kingdom come”—is only fulfilled as God answers the prayer that concludes the Bible: “Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev. 22:20).
The Rev. Dr. David Ney is a native of Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, and a priest in the Anglican Church of Canada. He currently serves as associate professor of Church history at Trinity Anglican Seminary, in Ambridge, Pennsylvania.
