John Bunyan’s book The Pilgrim’s Progress is valued as one of the most significant works of theological fiction in English literature. It describes the long, toilsome search of our hero, “Christian,” for the “Celestial City,” the kingdom of God.
Ironically, the premise of this story, considered to be the first novel written in English, is the myth that the kingdom of God is far off from everyone. Yet, over 2,000 years ago Christ Jesus wanted to make sure that his followers didn’t fall for this myth. The very first command of his public ministry was: “Repent [that is, from original Greek, change your perspective]: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 4:17). “At hand,” meaning “you are here, actually in the kingdom, right now.”
In Luke’s account, underlining the completely mental nature of God’s kingdom and our place in it, Jesus describes this kingdom as, not just super close, but “within you” (Luke 17:21). St. John the Revelator in the book of Revelation goes even further and describes in symbolic detail “the holy city, new Jerusalem” (21:2).
Despite Jesus’ and John’s best efforts, our culture is still living with the myth of a distant kingdom of God.
The kingdom of God is actually our home. Our true home.
Mary Baker Eddy, in her inspiring work Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, encourages us to enter, mentally, this kingdom of God. Referring to the Revelator describing “a new heaven and a new earth,” she asks us, “Have you ever pictured this heaven and earth, inhabited by beings under the control of supreme wisdom?” (p. 91).
That is actually our home to which she is referring. Our true home.
I must admit the first few times I read John’s description of this holy city, it seemed to me a bit gaudy. Gold and precious stones everywhere, even pearly gates. But I have become gradually aware of Eddy’s superlative valuing of St. John’s ability to see and to appreciate this New Jerusalem.
She esteemed highly John’s vision, which she points out came to him “while yet he tabernacled with mortals” (Science and Health, p. 576).
The beauty St. John is detailing is, of course, symbolic of the spiritual perfection of this, our true home.
In fact, I have come to appreciate each of the variety of details John includes in his description, as having a symbolic meaning. Most precious to me is John’s description of the super close relation of man to God. Toward the beginning of John’s description of the “holy city,” he says he heard “a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God” (Revelation 21:3).
Eugene Peterson in his paraphrase of this verse has captured the intimacy of this relationship. He writes: “God [is] . . . making his home with men and women! They’re his people, he’s their God” (The Message).
Not only does John underline the closeness of man to God, but he emphasizes the tender, loving nature of this relationship: “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes” (Revelation 21:4).
Quite some time ago I had occasion to deepen my understanding of what it means to take up residence in God’s kingdom. I was being sent to give some lectures in West Africa. Quite a bit of the tour was to be in Nigeria. This was to take place during a civil war in that country, known as the Biafran War. While skirting the conflict zone, I needed to pass through several checkpoints known for occasionally violent shakedowns.
The war was winding down, but the images of the war, as shown on the evening news, were exactly the opposite of John’s picture of God’s kingdom. It occurred to me that, on this trip, there would be a great need for effective prayer, and so I began to pray. I began to bring into focus in thought what Eddy calls “the panoply of Love,” a total protection—what I understood to be a sort of force-field of safety with no chink in the armor (Science and Health, p. 571).
But then two things occurred to me.
One, that I didn’t have to wait. I could, already—before leaving on the trip—mentally take up residence in God’s kingdom. After all, it was not located in a geographical place. On the contrary, it was the universal, omnipresent government of divine Love.
Two, rather than taking a stance of defensive protection, I could go forward in the consciousness that this kingdom of God was already “inhabited by beings under the control of supreme wisdom”—totally under wisdom’s supremacy.
For me, this became an accurate description of my home, that is, a description of the mental space in which I lived. I was taking up residence in God’s kingdom. Humanly speaking, my co-residents where I lived at that time were Pittsburghers from southwestern Pennsylvania. Soon they would be Nigerian, Igbo, and Yoruba from southern Nigeria. I discovered that I was able to sense spiritually that we were all part of the “peoplescape” of the spiritual kingdom of God. This kingdom was actually the only place that we could ever live, and we couldn’t be outside that kingdom.
It wasn’t always easy, but with some consistency I was able to turn from thoughts of being in a space needing protection, to the recognition of being in divine Love’s kingdom, sharing this space with God’s children, my spiritual brothers and sisters.
I was able to turn from thoughts of being in a space needing protection, to the recognition of being in divine Love’s kingdom.
This prayerful approach stayed with me throughout the lecture tour. It was a perfect complement to the ideas of the lecture, which was focused on discovering God’s spiritual creation, the true identity of each resident of Love’s kingdom. Only once was a demand made for “road taxes” from a machine gun-toting warlord. And he happily accepted a copy of Science and Health rather than road taxes.
For me, by far the most beautiful part of this kingdom of God is not the “landscape” so much as the “peoplescape”—the rich diversity of individuals inhabiting this holy city, each expressing beautiful Godlike qualities, infinitely indispensable, nuanced, and varied, like the precious gems St. John identifies as part of the kingdom.
Above all, when “entering” this kingdom, I feel the vitalizing power of him “that sat upon the throne” (God), who announces, “Behold, I make all things new”—and that “these words are true and faithful” (Revelation 21:5).
