The Joyful and Terrifying Approach of God’s Reign

FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 66:10-14

Psalm 66:1-9

Galatians 6:1-16

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

Prayer of the Day: O God, the Father of our Lord Jesus, you are the city that shelters us, the mother who comforts us. With your Spirit accompany us on our life’s journey, that we may spread your peace in all the world, through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.’” Luke 10:8-11.

In Sunday’s gospel lesson Jesus sends his disciples out for just two tasks: heal the sick and announce that “the kingdom of God has come near.” Understand that the reign of God is not some Nirvana like state of mind. It is not an otherworldly realm accessed only in the “sweet by and by.” The reign of God is bound up in our human physicality. Healing of body and mind are integral to its advent and signs of its presence.

Jesus’ singular focus on healing the sick in Luke’s gospel comes a time when the United States Congress is considering the president’s “big, beautiful bill” that will likely eliminate $700 billion from Medicaid. That, in turn, will result in 10.9 million people losing their health insurance coverage over the next 10 years, according to the Congressional Budget Office.[1] Meanwhile, Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has gutted the existing U.S. CDC Vaccine Advisory panel, replacing existing experts with what can fairly be called anti-vaxxers and conspiracists who are already at work limiting the availability of certain vaccines based on junk science and long debunked theories. These measures, the toxic consequences of which are sure to fall upon the poorest, sickest, youngest and most vulnerable among us, amount to a hostile rejection of God’s just and gentle reign.

None of this should be surprising. Jesus warned his disciples that there would be opposition to their mission. Some towns would refuse to offer the disciples hospitality, reject their message and perhaps even run them out of town. Still, the message for these hostile villages is the same as for those who welcome, show hospitality and listen to the disciples: the reign of God has drawn near. That is the gospel, the good news that sustains us in times like these. God hears our prayers that God’s kingdom come. The reign of God is everywhere at the margins of our worst nightmares, pressing against our resistance, prying at the cracks in our unbelief, cynicism and despair. Jesus and his disciples might be driven out of town, but the reign of God they announce has drawn near and will remain.[2]

I have witnessed God’s reign breaking through. It happened for me at the Byzantine monastery Hosios Loukos in Greece where I had the opportunity to view some incredible iconic wall murals depicting scenes from the gospels. It is one thing to see these marvelous depictions in books or museum walls. It is quite another to see these century old paintings in the sanctuaries where they reside and where they still inspire and sustain worshiping communities. Particularly striking for me was a depiction of the Resurrection in which the resurrected Christ can be seen taking the hands of Adam and Eve and, by extension, the whole human race, raising them from death into life. It was as though I were looking through a portal into that awesome mystery surpassing all understanding. There were other depictions from the gospels, including Jesus’ baptism, the Transfiguration, Jesus’ washing the feet of his disciples and, of course, the cross. Each of these icons afforded a different view into that marvelous gospel narrative. The reign of God was all around me.

I have heard testimony to the reign of God from the many people I have sat beside as death approached. One fellow told me through tears that he had just been holding his wife who passed three decades before. A woman I visited in a nursing home during the last years of her life told me on each visit of the persons, now dead, with whom she had been having the most delightful conversation. My mother told us days before she died about how her mother stopped by to say that they would be together again soon. At the door of death, time is bent into eternity. Past, present and future are one in God’s eternal now. Let me be clear. I am sure there are probably scientific, medical, neurological explanations for these episodes. But that does not preclude their also being signs of God’s reign appearing at what is for all of us the final frontier. What do we mean when we confess in our creeds that Jesus “descended to the dead” other than that he meets us even there with the promise of abundant life?

Rev. John Fanestil serves communion at the US / Mexico border fence at Friendship Park in San Diego, California. Fanestils colleague Rev. Guillermo Navarrete provides communion on the Mexico side of the wall in Tijuana. Participants share fellowship through the metal mesh. (Photo by Zoeann Murphy/ The Washington Post via Getty Images)

I have heard testimony about the reign of God and the power of God’s reconciling love breaking through the walls of hatred and division we build and so stubbornly try to maintain. Nowhere are those walls more evident than at the ugly, barbed wired and highly militarized border between our country and Mexico. Yet it is precisely here that the most potent witness to God’s reign is made between believers on both sides of the border offering hospitality, life sustaining aid and advocacy. The most powerful sign of God’s reign is manifest in celebration of the Eucharist across the border. There the reconciling power of God’s love literally stretches across one of our most shameful monuments to hatred, bigotry and fear to unite people who are one in Christ. The cross of Jesus takes shape as Christ is skewered on the walls of division even as the Body and Blood of Christ transcend those walls, building up the human tidal wave that will finally bring them down. The future does not belong to cowardly little men hiding behind big money, big guns and big walls. The future belongs to the God who unites the human family. In spite of the present darkness, know this: the Kingdom of God is near.  

Here is a poem by Nikita Gill about the power of redemption in the midst of brokenness. One might see in this the way in which God’s reign breaks into the wreckage of our corporate and personal lives.

From Everything Broken

There is nothing beautiful

about the wreckage

of a human being.

There is nothing pretty

about damage, about pain,

about heartache.

Yet still, despite the ruin,

they show an ocean of courage

when they pick through the debris of their life

to build something beautiful, brand new,

against every odd

that is stacked against them.

And there is no denying

that this,

this is exquisite.

Source: Where Hope Comes From, Gill, Nikita (c. 2021 by Nikita Gill, pub. by Hatchette Books, New York, NY). Nikita Gill is an Irish-Indian poet, playwright, writer and illustrator based in southern England. She has written and curated eight volumes of poetry. Born in Belfast to Indian parents, Gill has Irish citizenship and Overseas Citizenship in India. Gill’s work was first published when she was only twelve years old. Her poems offer reflections on love and feminist re-tellings of fairy tales and Greek myths. She has been inspired and influenced by the work of Sylvia Plath, Maya Angelou and Robert Frost. You can read more about Nikita Gill and sample more of her poetry at her Instagram site.


[1] It should be noted, however, that the legislation has not been finalized and that this and other provisions of the bill might yet be amended or dropped altogether from the bill.

[2] Once again, in the interest of not offending our progressive protestant white and ever-polite enlightened sensibilities, the lectionary folks have sought to domesticate Jesus by omitting his more ill-liberal pronouncements. In verses 12-16, Jesus lets us know in no uncertain terms that there will be unpleasant consequences for resisting the reign of God. Sometimes the reign of God must be experienced as bad news before it can be understood as good. For all who are bent on preserving the status quo, the encroachment of God’s reign will be seen as a threat that must be resisted at all costs-and the costs might be substantial. That revolutionary reality is hard to hear for those of us so-called progressives who insist that change comes through slow, but steady and irreversible evolutionary steps that modify the status quo without abolishing it. But the reign of God is not about building a kinder, gentler empire. It is all about a new creation. 

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