“The political question is clearly central to the two-kingdoms doctrine, almost as much today as it was in the Reformation era. Here the doctrine seeks to hold together the eschatological tension between Christ’s insistence that “my kingdom is not of this world” with the triumphant declaration of Revelation that “the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ.”

 
When the subject of the “two kingdoms” comes up, the first thing that comes to most people’s mind is the question of politics–God vs. Caesar, church vs. state, the challenges of Christian citizenship. This is in part due to the political language of “kingdoms,” in part due to the fact that the Reformers themselves often used the language of the “civil kingdom” or “political kingdom” in contrast to the “spiritual kingdom,” for in their era, unlike ours, pretty much any area of life beyond the inner realm of conscience was potentially subject to the authority of the civil magistrate. For us, though, with a more circumscribed conception of the state’s responsibilities, this language can be misleading, and I have thus sought to emphasize in this series the full scope of what we might better call simply the “temporal kingdom,” and waited until four posts in to broach the subject of politics.

However, the political question is clearly central to the two-kingdoms doctrine, almost as much today as it was in the Reformation era. Here the doctrine seeks to hold together the eschatological tension between Christ’s insistence that “my kingdom is not of this world” with the triumphant declaration of Revelation that “the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ.” On the one hand, there is clearly something about Christ’s reign that is radically inward and hidden, that works by the transforming power of the Spirit rather than through the coercive power of the sword or the observable chains of earthly cause and effect. On the other hand, we have his promise that his reign shall not remain hidden, but at the last day shall be fully public, acknowledged by rulers and principalities.

But what about in the meantime? Does the whole political and social order lie outside of the Christian message, as some would have it? And if so, is this because the Christian message is one of radical interiority, an antinomian proclamation of grace that never becomes incarnate, as libertines would have it? Or is it because the Christian message is one of a new law and a new social order unto itself, the church as alternative community, as Anabaptists old and new would have it? Or is the political and social order subsumed into the church’s proclamation, such that the gospel is not rightly preached until it has taken on flesh and bones in a renewed set of laws and institutions, and in which we can point to these renewed laws and institutions and say “here is the kingdom in our midst. Christ’s reign on earth has begun.” Theocrats of every age have taught such a doctrine, and it persists in a subtler form among liberal social gospellers and conservative Kuyperian worldview warriors. Classical two-kingdoms thinking eschews all these alternatives, though I only have space for a few suggestive bullet-points as to how it does so.

    •    Christ is reigning through worldly rulers and institutions to preserve his good world. Classical two-kingdoms thinking insists that even while asserting the centrality of Christ’s saving work in the church and the hearts of the faithful, we must not abandon the rest of the world to the devil, or to some spiritual no-mans land. Jesus is Caesar’s Lord, and obeying Caesar can be a way of obeying Christ.

    •    Christ’s temporal reign is indirect and mediated in a way his spiritual reign is not. Civil authorities cannot claim to speak directly for God or demand in God’s name to always be obeyed. This may seem obvious to us, but certainly has not always been, and even today Christians easily fall prey to the temptation to identify some particular political institution as somehow the bearer of the divine will. Even when political authorities or earthly institutions are indeed doing the will of God, they remain fragile and fallible, not something that we can ever grasp hold of and say, “here indeed is the Kingdom.”

Read More