catapult magazine

What if we think of kingdom building in terms of cultivation? Cultivating is not just stewardship, but a working in the fields with that which God has given, a sowing of seeds that will make for a great harvest.

Without wanting to sound too Aristotelian, we could say that the kingdom, then, is both the fully grown tree (the kingdom that is to come) and the seed (the kingdom here and now). I think I may be pushing the mustard seed parable in the wrong direction with this, though. All I’m really trying to say is that the term “kingdom building” might be acceptable if we understood it not as a result of our labor, but as the task of the kingdom to which we are called, a building of the kingdom toward the kingdom. Though I don’t object to the “building of the kingdom” terminology, it might be less confusing (and more Biblical?), however, to speak the language of cultivation.

You are criticizing the idea of “building” because it implies progress toward an end, right? And this doesn’t fly anymore after history—am I hearing you correctly? But what do you think of cultivating (culturing)? “Culturing” does not have the same connotation as “crafting”, does not necessarily imply an end goal to be reached. It’s a constant obedient doing with what we have been given, which not only witnesses God’s grace but is a witness to others of God’s grace.

I don’t mind the notion of progress unless it implies an ineluctable process. Progress, I think, can be punctuated. Progress in the middle of Virginia or Iowa for a time in the eighteenth century or progress in that church for awhile this summer or progress in that family in Bangladesh next year. But, if progress is the building up of history to its final, realized goal which is immanent within history and creation, then I’m not on board. Planting and cultivating works better, since crops, flora and fauna die. I’m thinking eschatologically. These things will exist as things again, but as new things. I confess a recasted creation, not a cleaned up creation. And, since the newness of this future recasted creation is so different (since the antithesis is so deep), we merely witness to its coming with symbolic proclamation to ourselves and others.

And, if this conception of the new heaven on earth troubles you, think about the structural role of death in our current world. That’s the kind of thing that needs to be recasted, not just cleaned up. I’m not sure physical death is a result of the antithesis, but it is at least something that must be removed for us to be fully passionate lovers of one another.

I know this is an old topic, but I’m new to *cino (and I love the way Grant always includes the little * in front of it every time he types it), so here I am.

Perhaps someone can help me to better understand the concept of Kingdom:

The way I understand it, the kingdom is, in one sense, already here. The kingdom arrived with Christ, and will reach its full realization when he comes again. In another sense, the kingdom is still coming, as most of the Biblical references to the word as we understand it imply a nearness rather than a temporal presence. People are just as much part of the kingdom as the rest of creation, and while building up some mystical quotient of “souls” doesn’t make any sense to me, how can it be said that our spirit-guided efforts don’t further the work of the kingdom? If all truth is God’s truth, then all wholeness is God’s wholeness. If we’re bringing wholeness, then I have a hard time believing that there isn’t an eternal purpose for it, however God wants to use it.

If in the end times the elements will be destroyed, but people will be changed and clothed with their heavenly dwelling, it implies continuity between this earth and the new earth, at the very least for people. What, then, is the problem with calling that process of Jesus drawing people to himself a progress toward an end? And how are we not part of that process? I feel a bit like this topic is splitting hairs, but I think definitions are important in order to be able to discuss.

In your view, kstarkenburg, are we then WAITING for the kingdom and TENDING the creation?

This also leads me to another question: What is the difference, if any, between our role as stewards (as in the creation mandate) and our role as disciples (as in the great comission)?

Regardless of which metaphor you use, it is an odd thing we are engaged in. The nature of sin is such that what we build up (or cultivate) because of our own sinfulness and the sinfulness of those around us, tends to want to collapse into rubble (or die). This is partly because sin makes it so that we do not know how to build anything, and partly because we do things that tear it down (we don’t know how to help things grow — we weed out the good plants and leave the non=productive ones some times).

And regardless of the metaphor, the notion is, i think, that we are never going to complete our task, and yet, out of gratitude for all Christ has done for us, we are full of willingness to try, and by God’s grace, to try again and again. That is the part I really like. How even when it falls apart, or wilts, we try again. I think that must be the action of the holy spirit in us.

The school where I teach has been engaged in a fight for several years now over whether to stay where we are, or move further into the suburbs. There are people struggling valiently on both sides. Soon we will vote for the thrid time about wether to expand in our current location or move away. I confess that sometimes this fight makes me so weary I want to quit. Yet somehow (and this is the spirit, I think) it makes me want to go on.

One final thought. Building does not have to be an imperialist, anti-environmentalist activity. Buildings can be designed to fit into and enhance their environment. Bildings can be lovingly made to provide shelter for those without homes. Buildings can shelter plants (greenhouses) and animals (stables) from weatehr that would kill them. Perhaps it is not so much the metaphor as how it is used.

If any person believes that he/she builds the Kingdom, they are incredibly wrong. But to say we have no place in the process of building the Kingdom is also very wrong. We are but clay vessels…tools used by the Spirit to advance His own ends. To be a Christian is to hand complete control of your person over to the Creator so that His Kingdom can be built. Our preaching, singing, art even culture are not the building blocks of the Kindom, they are the tools used by a very ingenious God to build something that we are not capable of understanding in it’s entirety. We are called to be a part of that construction. We don’t make the plans, we don’t decide the architecture, we only work in areas in which we were created for.

I have always imagined that I witness the kingdom as opposed to building it. In this sense I enter it and then proclaim it. And perhaps I have eyes to see certain parts better than others. Special gifts to discern comings and goings of the spirit. In fact, I moved to New York city to look for these comings and goings in music. I think that I used to think that I contributed more than I do now. Mostly, I’m humbled in it all. Jesus tends to take the back door more than not. But, every now and then I see him and the best that I do is to spread the word that he did indead show up. Maybe its the best you get sometimes. To celebrate when Jesus shows up and then to invite others to the witnessing party. In the sacraments we remember that Chirst came and promised to stay involved. Now, we look for his presence. And in our good moments we do it together.

Hey, I think Wooten makes a good point, as does Jbird. I agree that it is a humbling thing. I agree that the spirit works through our community in a way that is remarkable to witness. BUt I hold to the idea that we, our of thankfulness for God’s sacrifice for us, are called to participate in tiny ways in tht consturction/cultivation. Sometimes we mess stuff up, but we are called to try. When things go right, we can chalk it up to the spirit. When things go wrong, it is a function of our sinfulness, but i don’t think we are allowed off the hook, to just sit back and watch (which, was, of course, not what Wooten was saying). We have to try. We have to try not only to build/cultivate, but also to be sensitive to the danger of imperialism in these undertakings and proceed with an intention to shelter, include, and comfort within community rather than an intention to colonize and take over.

On this topic, did anybody else catch Jerry Fallwell’s take on the What Would Jesus Drive debate? Fallwell argues an SUV.

What do you do with the verse

“From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing and forceful men lay hold of it” Matthew 11:12

There’s a hesitancy in our culture to be very hesitant to use any aggressive terminology. For kingdom building we need to look at Jesus. Jesus walked in humility and total submission to the Father. But he also had perfect faith, walking in his Father’s authority, casting out demons, healing people, rebuking Pharisees.

I know I personally go back and forth from passive and docile to overaggressive and striving. Neither help me in my walk or building the kingdom.

Any thoughts?

Where does Falwell say that?

This all has to do with the relationship between eschatology and sin (as corruption, guilt, social, personal, structural, whatever). The creation was not born at rest. I don’t think that a new heaven and earth (which replaces the first heaven and earth in the imagery of Rev. 22) are necessary merely because of our failing to follow the playful patterns of God in God’s creation. A new heavens and earth also seem necessary because this creation is, how shall we say, probationary. The images of the serpent’s presence, the need of a command for Adam and Eve, the loneliness of Adam before Eve, the whole possibility of disobedience even after command – all of these point to the need for a completed, recasted creation even before we danced into deafness. So, when we say “build the kingdom” or “cultivate the kingdom” (I prefer the latter, I’d say), I’m a little nervous. We’ll tend to expect too much of ourselves, fool ourselves about the strength of our accomplishments or the depth of our unrest, and, conversely, we’ll not expect enough of God’s Spirit in the renewal.

We have yet to taste the tree of life. We have yet to become by grace what Jesus was by nature. We need to become divinized.