Letting Go of My Kingdom
There is nothing that highlights human discord so much as the struggle for political power and dominance - over sea and air and land, over human beings, over the world. Our own country’s current preoccupation with dominance and power in this 2020 election highlights the sheer insanity of our nation’s very real, in the moment struggle for control - not only for power and control over our courts, the legislature - over the very fabric of the national political theater - but for control of our very lives. The hyperbole of discord resonates with brash clanging across every possible communication venue. We are in the midst of real and heartbreaking tragedies that shatter, displace and destroy hundreds of thousands of lives every day, caused by our national inability or unwillingness to come together for real and critical action that would save lives, heal families, rebuild homes, save the earth, provide wisdom in times of global pandemic - and all of this? Sacrificed in the name of power, of domination, of pride and arrogance and mean-spirited politico-babble.
In the midst of this, how am I responding? What are we collectively saying, those of us who are supposed to follow a different path, a better way? Most of us - not much. We are swept up in the very same battle Monday through Saturday that we profess to denounce on Sundays in our recited prayers and songs in our gathered congregations. We profess the peace and love of Jesus for a few hours on Sunday, and then - how do we change come Monday when we slog back to work… get the kids off to school? Come Tuesday, when headlines scream out words that inflame, frighten and divide? Come Wednesday when we feel hopeless that anything will change? Come Thursday and Friday when our hearts give up and we join in the fray of the arguing and the fear and the nagging sense that something precious has been lost? How do we respond? How can we change how we behave, never mind how our political leaders and wanna-be leaders behave?
Everyone knows the Lord’s Prayer, arguably the best-known Christian prayer of all time. It is a prayer that cuts across denominational walls throughout Christianity, and yet, it is often misunderstood. If we prayed with the full import of what Jesus wanted us to understand by praying those words to His Father, I believe that prayer would be life-changing. I came across a commentary last week on the Lord’s Prayer that I can’t forget, that has burrowed into my heart and my soul - changing how I see myself and my actions in this world. Three words that stopped me cold. The commentator was talking about living a lifestyle that honored God, that showed others the beauty and love of God, of life itself. In that meditation, he referenced the Lord’s Prayer, saying “To pray and actually mean “Thy Kingdom come,” we must also be able to say “my kingdoms go.” (1)
My kingdoms go? What does that even mean? And why did those three words make me so uncomfortable, so sad? Do I have kingdoms? If I have kingdoms, what are they? Where are they? And if I say I want God’s Kingdom to come, do I really need to let go of my own? And even if I want to, can I even let go? And - do I have more than one kingdom? These questions have been parading across my heart for days, and answers are slow to come. But this is what I’ve come to see about “my kingdoms” so far; and I know I’ve got a ways to go in fully understanding this call to “let go”.
Letting go of our kingdoms, I think, means letting go of what we think is right, of our moral “musts” and “oughts”, of how we think others should act, of how others should be, and instead— look up to what Jesus called us to think and be and do in this world. Letting go of our kingdoms is about looking up at Him to see what His Kingdom means, then looking inward to our own hearts, and figuring out the disconnect. We need to be clear about what His Kingdom means in our everyday lives, and then identify those castles and towers we’ve built to keep us safe, and prevent us from “being” in the world of the lost, the broken, the unloved. In these turbulent times, I think there is nothing we need more than God’s Kingdom instead of ours.
Certainly, I think we would all sadly agree, if we are bone-deep honest, that God’s Kingdom does not resemble, in any way, the current state of power-struggle and hunger for dominance that exists in our country today; nor would God’s kingdom resonate with words of divisiveness, with name-calling, with mean-spirited innuendo, insults, hate-mongering, . God’s kingdom is not coming here, today, now. Our kingdoms are firmly in place, and if we are honest, getting stronger by the day.
If we are serious about leading a simply sacred life, we then need to be honest in examining our hearts and minds, and looking seriously at the “kingdoms” in our own lives. What are those kingdoms we’ve built that affirm our own ways, our own thoughts, our ambitions, our comforts? If I truly want God’s Kingdom to come, the Kingdom Jesus preached to really come, I need to identify what are the kingdoms in my life that rule my thoughts and actions, and then - I need to let them go. It’s not easy, this letting go. But I’m figuring that my kingdoms aren’t working all that well, anyway; and that our collective kingdoms are teetering on the brink of collapse. It’s time for His Kingdom to truly come, and then maybe? Maybe if we all took more seriously the need for His Kingdom to come, and let go of our own, then maybe, we’d have a real chance at peace. The peace and love we all sing and pray about on Sunday mornings.
Your Kingdom come. I let go.
Richard Rohr, Center for Action and Contempation; October 7, 2020