The ‘not yet’ but ‘already’ reign of God

What we are now; what we will be. What has not yet been revealed; what we already know.

The First Letter of John speaks to our present identity and eternal destiny.

“Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” (1 John 3:2)

The fulfillment of God’s promises, the reign of God, is “not yet” and “already present.”

At the beginning of his ministry, Jesus said, “This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand.” (Mk 1:15) Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus stood in the synagogue in Nazareth and announced the prophesy of Isaiah “to bring glad tidings to the poor … to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord,” and he said, “Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.” (Lk 4:18-21)

Throughout his ministry Jesus fulfilled this promise through his teaching and healing and liberation from every form of oppression. Even in his death, God raised him, showing the power of God even over death itself.

Now the disciples, having received the gift and power of the Holy Spirit, continue this ministry of Jesus. In the Acts of the Apostles, Peter stands trial for invoking the name of Jesus to heal a man who could not walk (Acts 4:9), and later Peter heals Aeneas, who was paralyzed, and he raises Tabitha from the dead, (Acts 9:32-42)

It seems that what John writes about – “we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is” – is already present in these disciples. They encountered the Risen Lord, it transformed them, and now they are like him. They too are fulfilling the vision of Isaiah to heal and liberate.

So what about us? Have we too received the power of the Spirit and continue these ministries of healing and even raising from the dead? Is “being like him” only a future promise or also a present reality?

What have you seen and heard and experienced that indicates the fulfillment of God’s reign of justice and peace? Maybe, at times, it is not as obvious as the healings we hear about in Acts. But perhaps the healing and raising that we do experience is no less real or significant.

Image courtesy Faith Bible Ministries Blog

I think of friends and family who have nearly died or even had near-death experiences and lived to tell the story; of people who survived cancer, and of people who did not but whose presence continues to be felt; of people whose lives have been healed and saved through Alcoholics Anonymous, or social service agencies; of experiences where, even for a moment, loneliness or despair is lifted. I think of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which for me and many others is a place of powerful encounter with the mercy of God, a God who forgives and gives new life.

Yes, it is true that we await the day of fulfillment, the “new heaven and a new earth,” when God will “make all things new” and “wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain.” (Rev 21:1-5) But we also experience signs of this fulfillment today, through the power of the Holy Spirit, in the name of Jesus Christ.

“We are God’s children now.”

Note from the editor: This blog post is a version of a homily that Father Luke Hansen, SJ, preached April 22, 2018 (4th Sunday of Easter, Year B) in Rome.


Luke Hansen, SJ

Luke-Hansen-SJOriginally from Kaukauna, Wisconsin, Luke Hansen, SJ, has been a friend of Sister Julia’s since 2004 when they met at an airport on their way to serve in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps in California. Passionate about justice and peacemaking, much of his experience in ministry has been centered on serving adults and adolescents who are incarcerated. He now is studying in Rome at the Pontifical Gregorian University. (Photo credit:


Resolute acceptance

Guest blogger: Steven Cottam 

Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness… it strikes us when year after year, the longed for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: “You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now, perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted. If that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed.

 –Paul Tillich, “You are Accepted.”


January is usually a very frustrating month for me. The reason is that I always make New Year’s Resolutions… and I almost always fail to keep them. December always ends in a flurry of nearly crazed exclamations: This is the year I will get organized! This is the year I will exercise more! This is the year I will drink less; and I will pray a rosary every day; and I will learn Spanish! Truly, this is the year I shall become a veritable superhero, doing everything right and nothing wrong, forever and ever, amen!

As you can guess, by January 7 most of my resolutions have already begun to fade, and before long I’m pretty much back right where I started. The truth is, these things are things I have wanted to change all year—things that I have struggled with all year—yet somehow I always imagine that the moment when Earth’s odometer rolls over has enough magic in it to banish all my demons in one fell swoop.

2012 Calendar
This ultimately makes me feel pretty crummy, since January ends up serving as a big neon highlighter, pointing out to me all the things I wish were different about myself.

It is for that reason that Paul Tillich’s words resonate with me so strongly, and why I try and read them at this time of year. It is startling to think, as I sit among my pile of shattered resolutions, feeling grubby and small, that God accepts me. God loves me. God will not merely love me tomorrow; God will not love the me who has learned Spanish and files his taxes early. God loves me today just as I am.

To really believe this is, I think, far harder than it appears. We pay this idea a lot of lip service, but I think we fail to truly internalize it; I know that I do. We have this inkling that God likes us, maybe, but we believe that he would like us just a little bit more if we were a little bit better. It’s tempting to allow that idea to propel us to greater sanctity, but behind it lurks something of a poison. If we cannot allow God to accept us as we are, if we cannot allow infinite love to embrace us, it is nigh impossible to accept people as they are. If we demand constant improvement from ourselves, if we must earn God’s love, we end up demanding the same from others.

So, in the midst of whatever resolutions you might have made, try and sit for a few seconds and really contemplate this fact: You Are Accepted. Don’t do anything with it. Instead of trying so hard to do something, to make another resolution, to add another item to your to-do list, take a second and just be accepted. Invite a moment of grace. And then see not what you can do with that grace, but what that grace can do with you.