The Kingdom of God is Within You—Not the State
by Sofia Skavdahl

“Christ’s message that every human being— woman, man, and child— was made in the image of God was very radical for the culture in which he lived. In the Roman Empire three-fourths of people were slaves or descended from slaves, and he preached that these people, not solely the emperor, were one with God. This union of divinity and humanity had far-reaching political ramifications, and that is why Christ was put to death.”— Maureen Murdock [1]

In a world where conformity is the norm and group consciousness is dictated by the status quo of our institutions; the hope of change lies in one quiet and unassuming place— the individual human heart. This is not a new phenomenon, but it is a forgotten one, for the heart’s subtle truths are often drowned out by the roar of political movements and the cries of cultural fundamentalism. The world is and has always been wounded, there is no doubt about that. But what is “new,” beginning in the 20th century and really taking off after the Cold War, is the belief that our systems will save us, that salvation can be found in the political, cultural, or economic sphere. 

Throughout history, such a belief has never proven to be true. In fact, the very opposite is reiterated constantly, not only by the religious prophets but by any true revolutionary. As Leo Tolstoy, questioning the necessity of the state, observed: “much of history is nothing but a recital of the incidents and means by which the more wicked gain power over the less wicked, and how they retain power by coercion and deception.” [2] At the onset of the 20th century Tolstoy further assessed, “there is no such thing as a political change of the social system: only moral change within the soul.” [3] If systems, even ones with a supposed moral compass like the United Nations, could bring about a more peaceful, just, and loving world, they would have done so already. Of course, the push to reform our governments and legal systems is well intended. I am not advocating for any sort of apathetic resignation. Rather, I am suggesting that the abundance of energy the collective places towards trying to repair a broken and punitive system be redistributed towards the liberation of their own souls. For if the individual is openhearted, nonviolent, and freed from the cultural grip, a better world is inevitable. It is not good institutions that will make us good people, but good people who will create a more just world, even if the institutions fail to evolve with us. 

First, we must acknowledge an objective truth, which is that it is far better to live in a democratic society than in an authoritarian one. In general, the more democratic a group is, the more psychological and spiritual freedom its individual members experience. But perhaps this is the exact reason why so many people in the western world have fallen prey to the illusion that it is the state that will save them. Many people believe that with enough progress, enough resistance, enough women and minorities in office, the kingdom of God will finally reign on earth. Even those who do not believe in a God talk about the state’s potential in a rhetoric that is at the very least, subtly spiritual, with mentions of love, equality, justice, and peace. Those who live under severe oppression know fully well that the state is neither their benefactor nor their protector. If one has truly had their livelihood inhibited by the will to power, they are no longer naive about the selfishness of the powerful. 

Why, then, does the west continue to believe in a type of trickle down humanity, wherein if the powerful are good, we will be too? Why is there the continual insistence that the “right” political leaders will save us? Hope is a necessity, but we have put our hope in the wrong sphere. When Nietzsche declared: “God is dead [...] And we have killed him,” he was rather unintentionally accurate in his assessment of the west’s rapidly changing orientation away from religion and towards the state. But neither am I saying that the church alone is the solution, although if it is serving its true purpose, it can certainly be more helpful to the individual than the state will ever be. The disillusion with the church was one they brought upon themselves, for at times they have been no more ethical than the empire. Martin Luther King Jr. poignantly summed up this sentiment in his sermon turned essay, Transformed Nonconformist, “the church has hearkened more to the authority of the world than to the authority of God.” [4] So, it is not a stretch to see how the failures of organized religion produced a misguided dependence on the state. The problem organized religion faces, now more than ever, is its tendency to reinforce a political order when Christ made it very clear that to follow God— that is to follow the path of love, mercy, and forgiveness— is in direct opposition to political norms. 

The reality is that the political order asks for concessions that a good and loving God will never ask us to make. The rationalizing of violence is man-made propaganda, it violates every spiritual law. The notion that one must choose “between the lesser of two evils” in a democratic election where two candidates both lack in moral values is a culturally designed one, it has no basis in divine justice. This is what I believe Christ meant when he says in the Gospel of John: “If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world—therefore the world hates you” (John 15:19). If the history of Christianity makes anything at all clear, it is that world authority is contrary to the instincts of the heart and that the order of the empire is threatened by the humblest expression of God. It was the state and the religious authorities at the time, after all, that put Christ to death. 

So, where does that leave one who longs for a better world? As psychologist Carl G. Jung famously remarked, the only solutions are religious solutions, meaning they come from the individual’s transpersonal experience. One who has a personal relationship with God, who comes to believe and experience Him directly, is not easily swayed by an external authority. The Franciscan priest Richard Rohr writes about this phenomenon when he makes the case for seeing Jung as an unexpected mystic:

 “Jung believed that if God wants to speak to us, God has to use words that will, first of all, feel like our own thoughts. How else could God come to us? That’s why we have to be taught how to recognize, honor, and allow that sometimes our thoughts are God’s thoughts. That internal trust and authority is necessary to balance out the almost exclusive reliance upon external authority promoted by mainline Christianity. While Scripture, priests, pastors, and the pope may be necessary, Jung recognized that they are all external to the self, and offer us a religion from the outside in. Jung wanted to teach us to honor those same symbols, but from the inside out, to recognize that there are already numinous voices in our deepest depths.” [5]

While this viewpoint should offer warm relief to those who have been greatly harmed by the hands of religious authority, many of us who seek to know God still find ourselves resisting such a statement. We express skepticism that God is able to know and guide us individually, even if we believe God is entirely good. But if we can learn to depend on a personal relationship with God, we will find ourselves living with a quality of interior freedom that the authoritarian systems of the world cannot touch. Still, this is terrifying to our egos whose primary concern is maintaining the status quo. This is not an individual failing, but the result of our biological programming in favor of safety and the collective culture that reinforces it. To depend on God wholly is counter-cultural. But if one hopes to do their part in contributing to a better world— there is little alternative. 

Let us return to the idea that the concessions the world asks us to make are not only ones God will never ask us to, but are in fact in direct opposition to sincere spiritual truths. The whole “the means justify the ends” argument that is used to justify the mass exploitation of workers, nuclear arms proliferation, and the normalization of consumerism is a sociopathic defense utilized by those in power to defend against any sort of change in the system. If one refuses to believe that change is possible, then they are off the hook, they are not accepting the responsibility that comes with their power. As Julia Cameron notes in The Artist’s Way, “we’re much more afraid that there might be a God than we are that there might not be [...] If there is no God, or if that God is disinterested in our puny little affairs, then everything can roll along as always and we can feel quite justified in declaring certain things impossible, other things unfair. ” [6] While Cameron’s book focuses on the spiritual and creative recovery of the individual, it is not difficult to see how this same mindset plays out on a much larger scale in the collective. 

How then, does one come to participate in the revolution within their own heart, to live not by the doctrines of the powerful, but by an intimate relationship with the divine? Jung described his concept of the Self as “the God within,” [7] that inner knowing that speaks primarily through the realm of intuition, feelings, hunches, and dreams. Though we cannot pretend to know exactly how God or our own faculties work, it is safe to say that God dwells more closely to our hearts and souls than in our minds. The mind is erratic and can make a convincing case for just about anything, but the heart cannot pretend to feel other than how it feels, it cannot help its own authenticity. The greatest task of the spiritual life may be to continually bring the mind in accordance with the heart, to not numb one’s heart or erect walls of intellectualization around it. The heart’s path of compassion, mercy, and forgiveness is striking in its difference from a world that seeks to rule the masses through the withholding of its approval and the active use of shaming to enforce obedience. 

To live by the way of the heart, the soul, “the God within” is not easy, but it is also not very complicated. The first step may very well be: start from within. A relationship with God or even with oneself is no different than a relationship with another person. It requires honesty, patience, curiosity, a growing in closeness and trust over time. The more we are rooted in a relationship with God, the more we can come to trust in our own inner wisdom, no matter how fiercely the world combats it. The enormous task of coming to know and love God is so all encompassing that it leaves little room for judgement and excessive criticism of others. The 21st century’s preoccupation with politics, combined with the dire absence of the spiritual life, has droves of people convinced they must police other people’s behaviors and that this is helping humanity. Ironically, they often do this in the name of “God.” We have no control over the actions of others, but we do have a responsibility for the health of our own hearts. If the only life we change is our own, it is a worthwhile endeavor. 

The questions continue. One might ask themselves: where do I collude or enact violence in my own life? Even if one is not personally violent, we often engage in media that glamorizes and makes light of violence. While it is useful to acknowledge the reality of the world and it is important to be honest about the fact that evil does exist, too much of the media cycle only desensitizes us to the suffering of our fellow communities. The fascination with the darkest parts of society— as seen in the glamorization of crime and addiction through movies, music, and even the news—  illustrate the fact that there are many ways to be complicit, even if we are not prone to outright criminality. Then comes the matter of greed and consumerism, the superficial desires that inhibit our spiritual freedom, and the exaggerated value we place on material possessions. In her moving essay collection, All About Love: New Visions, the writer bell hooks states that “living simply is the primary way one can resist greed every day,”[8] and “living simply is a crucial part of healing.” [9] Thoughtfully addressing the role of violence, greed, and consumerism in one’s life is nothing short of radical. Not only are these helpful areas to start in mending one’s own heart, but if these were the only values one chose to assess, they would be enough to enact substantial transformation. It is true that our institutions yield enormous power, but we must not let that deter us from embracing and standing firmly in the personal power we do have. We have the ability to choose what media and entertainment we engage with, we have the power to choose where to spend our income, we have the option of supporting small, sustainable businesses over large conglomerates. Some of us have the luxury of choosing what kind of work we do and all of us have the ability to choose the spirit in which we do it. The hope is that with the reduction of violence and the refusal to engage in the practices that society has normalized, we will have more space in our lives. Into that space comes God and the fruits of love, peace, wisdom, and charity. The work of the heart and discovering God are one and the same, for as St. Augustine said, “You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

To seek the kingdom of God within oneself is not sentimental work. It is far easier to resign nihilistically and claim that the way our world operates is the way it has to be. History has already shown that humanity has great capacity to change, though it has not necessarily been prone to changing in ways that are ultimately beneficial to the individual spirit. Most people do believe in progress and that a better world is possible. But we must not put that work on our institutions, whose primary goal is always to secure their own power. Finding the kingdom of God is an individual task and the most important one of our lives, at that. 

If one has a personal relationship with God and an understanding of Him that is not based on fear, then an organized religion can be especially helpful. But the relationship must come first and be strong enough in of itself before it can be supported by an institution. Unfortunately, this is not always the case, as one can see in fundamentalists who are all too quick to proclaim the church’s authority and slow in their own work of moral progress. A relationship of any significance must primarily exist on the basis of love. When love is absent, a relationship becomes a power game, from which nothing truly nourishing can derive. And though God is the ultimate authority figure, we are all given free will to accept this or not. Notice that God respects our sovereignty more than our supposed democratic governments! 

Why do we put more faith in the ways of the world, in punitive justice, in politicians, than we do God? Why does it appear that most would rather serve a broken system than to take on the ethics of God, of love? God’s way is difficult precisely because it is the antidote to the status quo. As Tolstoy noted, the kind of message Christ brought into the world 2,000 years ago— in the thick of the Roman Empire— required such a radical change to the way the powerful were living that it is no wonder they could not accept it. This very attitude is still prevalent today. Those of us who have never known great power in any sort of political or economic means may have an easier time giving these illusions up, for we know the powerful will fail us time and time again, and we have turned our hearts to something more dependable. 

Anything external can be lost: money, jobs, the affections of others, relationships, property, possessions. Only the internal soul is incorruptible and only God is constant. The heart is the wonderfully mysterious organ that seems to be in two worlds. It is the part of us that gives evidence to our humanity, it holds within its folds both our deepest wounds and greatest desires. Significant attention is required to discern when our desires come from the heart versus when they come from the appetite of our instincts or the ego. The heart is unyielding for what is true, yet subtle and persistent. It is patient and uncompromising in regard to the truth. Though we might mentally argue with the feelings of our own hearts, insisting that we ought to feel a certain way, or ignoring its protests by proclaiming the way we live is the only option, the truth cannot be hidden indefinitely. 

While in one sense it is extraordinarily difficult to be a nonconformist, to live with one’s values in opposition to the world’s, there is a lightness that comes from no longer attempting to be reasonable towards an unreasonable system. Our faith will be perpetually tested; a certain amount of suffering is inevitable. But as Christ reminds us, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:29-30). There is no magical solution—that is not what God offers— but it is through devoting oneself to a spiritual path it becomes clear that there is, in fact, another way of living. It is the path one must take if they are not only frustrated, but devastated, with the state of the world. It is the remedy for resigned complacency.

Our faith, then, should rest in the capacities of our God to love and to heal, the goodness of our neighbors, and our own sense of resilience in facing the challenges that life presents. While evil is as present as it ever was, we must not harden our hearts to those we perceive as our enemies. We must not forget how even the smallest inkling of faith in a God is a testament to the truth that love overcomes hatred, that life defeats death. Where there is violence, addiction, and avoidable suffering in the world, those are the very places where our prayers, openheartedness, and forgiveness are most needed. We cannot project this work onto the powers that be, nor can we use blaming the state as an excuse for a lack of individual accountability. Like Tolstoy aptly put it: “How does a lapse of faith occur? Very simply: one begins to live like everybody else.” [10] Our faith should not be in the government nor any political movement then, but in the goodness of God. There is great power in the mercy of the human heart, the portal to God, which we can open at any moment— if only we learn to listen for that quiet, pleading, knock. ✧