Where do we find the Kingdom of God?

Have you ever searched frantically for your glasses, only to discover they were perched on your head the entire time? Or perhaps you've torn apart your house looking for your phone while talking on it? We often search desperately for what is already present, blind to what sits right before us—or within us. This peculiar human tendency might help us understand one of Jesus's most enigmatic teachings about the Kingdom of God, a teaching that has puzzled translators and theologians for two millennia.

During my Holy Hour today I spent time meditating on Luke 17:20-21. I was so intrigued by the text, my hour became two and a half (A nice 10% tithe of today 's twenty-four hours, I suppose). It's also why today's message is a little later in the day than usual. I think you'll see why I got so deep into the woods of this text.

Here, we encounter a fascinating exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees that speaks directly to our modern quest for meaning and divine presence. The Pharisees approach Jesus with what seems like a straightforward question: "When will the kingdom of God come?" But Jesus's response confounds expectations: "The kingdom of God is not coming with signs to be observed; nor will they say, 'Look, here it is!' or, 'There it is!' For behold, the kingdom of God is ἐντὸς ὑμῶν (entos hymōn)."

Those two Greek words—entos hymōn—have sparked centuries of debate. Do they mean the kingdom is "within you" or "in your midst"? The answer we choose dramatically shapes our understanding of God's presence in the world and in our lives.

 

The Translation Dilemma

The Greek word ἐντὸς (entos) appears only twice in the New Testament, making it particularly challenging to translate with certainty. In Matthew 23:26, Jesus uses it unambiguously to mean "inside" when speaking about cleaning the inside of a cup. This linguistic evidence might suggest "within you" as the proper translation. Many mystical traditions and certain church fathers have embraced this reading. Origen, writing in the third century, understood this passage to mean that "the kingdom of God is within us," emphasizing the interior spiritual life (Origen, Commentary on Luke, Fragment 171).

However, the context presents a significant challenge to this interpretation. Jesus is addressing the Pharisees—the very group he frequently criticized for their spiritual blindness and hardness of heart. Would Jesus tell his opponents that the kingdom of God was within them? This seems unlikely, leading many scholars to prefer "in your midst" or "among you."

John Chrysostom reconciled both readings beautifully: "For indeed the kingdom of God is within us, since the word of God is not far from us... but is very near us, in our mouth and in our heart" (Chrysostom, Homilies on Matthew, 77.3). He understood that both translations point to the same profound truth: the kingdom is nearer than we imagine.

 

The Kingdom in Your Midst

If we read the text as "the kingdom of God is in your midst," Jesus makes a bold Christological claim. He himself, standing before the Pharisees, embodies the kingdom's presence. The kingdom isn't a future political reality to be observed through signs and wonders—it's a present reality wherever Jesus is.

This interpretation aligns beautifully with Luke's broader theological vision. Earlier in Luke 11:20, Jesus declared, "If it is by the finger of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you." The kingdom breaks into history through Jesus's ministry of healing, liberation, and restoration. When the blind see, the lame walk, and the poor hear good news (Luke 7:22), the kingdom is manifesting in their midst.

Consider how revolutionary this would have been for first-century Jews expecting a military messiah to overthrow Rome. The kingdom doesn't arrive with armies and political upheaval but walks among them in the person of a Galilean teacher who eats with tax collectors and touches lepers. As Ambrose of Milan observed, "The kingdom of God is not in word but in virtue. The kingdom of God is within, and where Christ is, there is the kingdom" (Ambrose, Exposition of the Gospel of Luke, VII.95).

This reading challenges us today. How often do we look for God's kingdom in spectacular displays of power, in political victories, or in religious institutions, while missing its presence in acts of mercy, moments of forgiveness, and communities of love? The immigrant family in our neighborhood, the recovering addict in our church, the colleague struggling with depression—might the kingdom be present in our midst through our interactions with them?

 

The Kingdom Within You: The Temple of the Spirit

Yet we shouldn't dismiss the "within you" translation too quickly. While the immediate context points toward a corporate interpretation, the possibility of an interior reading is not necessarily excluded by the presence of the Pharisees.

It is crucial to remember that the Pharisees were not a monolithic group of villains. The Gospels themselves testify that some of Jesus’s most faithful and devoted followers were Pharisees, such as Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. These men demonstrate that the capacity for God's reign was certainly stirring within the hearts of some Pharisees, even as Jesus spoke to the group as a whole. Jesus’s words could have been an intimate, challenging affirmation to the searching souls in the crowd—a message that the divine presence they sought was already dwelling in their depths, waiting to be acknowledged.

The Body as the Kingdom's Temple

This interior reading has profound theological implications, especially when viewed through the lens of the Holy Spirit. The presence of the Spirit is often the clearest sign of the Kingdom's active presence and power. The apostle Paul would later articulate this truth explicitly, declaring, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you?" (1 Corinthians 6:19). If the body is the Holy Spirit's Temple, then it becomes the locus, or dwelling place, of God's direct, reigning presence—the Kingdom within.

We see this link between the Spirit and the Kingdom throughout the New Testament:

1. The Annunciation (Luke 1:35): The angel Gabriel tells Mary, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God." Immediately prior, Gabriel confirmed that this child would be given the "throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever" (Luke 1:32-33). This is a direct declaration of the new Davidic Kingdom. Mary, in her humble consent, becomes the first Queen Mother of this new Kingdom by allowing the Spirit to make her body the Temple for the King.

2. Ascension and Pentecost (Acts 1:6-8): When the disciples ask Jesus, "Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?" Jesus immediately redirects their focus: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you." The arrival of the Spirit supersedes their nationalistic hopes, proving that the Kingdom's true restoration begins not with a political army, but with the divine indwelling in the hearts of his followers, turning their very bodies into outposts of God's reign.

If the kingdom is within, then our spiritual journey isn't about reaching some distant divine realm but about awakening to what already dwells in our depths through the gift of the Holy Spirit. This doesn't mean we are divine, but rather that we are created in God's image with an inherent orientation toward the divine. Augustine captured this beautifully in his Confessions: "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you" (Augustine, Confessions, I.1).

The mystics particularly treasured this interpretation. Meister Eckhart, a medieval Dominican, wrote: "God is nearer to me than I am to myself; my being depends on God's being near me and present to me" (Sermons, 5b). Modern psychology inadvertently supports this ancient wisdom. Viktor Frankl, the Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, discovered that even in concentration camps, humans possess an interior freedom that no external force can destroy—what he called "the last of human freedoms." Might this inviolable interior space be related to the kingdom within?\

 

The Both/And Mystery

Perhaps the genius of Jesus's saying lies precisely in its ambiguity. The kingdom is both within and among—interior and exterior, personal and communal, present and coming. This paradox reflects the nature of the kingdom itself, which refuses to be contained by our neat categories.

Gregory of Nyssa, one of the Cappadocian Fathers, understood this dual nature: "The kingdom of heaven is either within us or nowhere... Yet it is also true that where two or three are gathered in Christ's name, there he is in their midst" (On the Lord's Prayer, Sermon 1). The kingdom is simultaneously the most intimate reality—closer than our own breath—and a communal reality that emerges between people.

This both/and reading makes profound theological sense. The God who is utterly transcendent is also intimately immanent. The same God who created galaxies dwells in human hearts. As Paul writes to the Colossians, Christ is both "in you, the hope of glory" (Colossians 1:27) and the one "in whom all things hold together" (Colossians 1:17).

 

Living the Kingdom Reality

What practical difference does this make for our daily lives? If the kingdom is both within us and in our midst, several transformative practices emerge:

First, cultivate interior awareness. If the kingdom dwells within, we need practices that help us attend to this inner presence. This doesn't require becoming a monk or mystic. Simple practices like taking three deep breaths before responding to an irritating email, pausing for gratitude before meals, or spending five minutes in morning silence can help us touch the kingdom within. As Brother Lawrence discovered while washing dishes in a monastery kitchen, we can practice the presence of God in the most mundane moments (The Practice of the Presence of God).

Second, recognize the kingdom in others. If the kingdom is in our midst, every human encounter becomes a potential theophany. The harried cashier at the grocery store, the difficult relative at Thanksgiving, the homeless veteran on the corner—each bears the image of God, each potentially mediates the kingdom's presence. Mother Teresa spoke of seeing Christ in the "distressing disguise" of the poor. Can we train our eyes to see the kingdom in our midst?

Third, create kingdom spaces. If the kingdom manifests where Jesus's values reign, we can cultivate spaces where those values flourish. This might mean starting a community garden that brings neighbors together, organizing a support group for grieving parents, or simply making our dinner table a place of honest conversation and unconditional acceptance. Wherever compassion, justice, and mercy prevail, the kingdom becomes tangible.

Fourth, embrace the already/not yet tension. The kingdom is both present and coming, both realized and awaited. This means living with hope in the midst of brokenness. Yes, the kingdom is here—every act of love proves it. But no, it's not fully here—every injustice remains a call to action.

 

Conclusion: The Nearness of God's Reign

The question posed by the Pharisees—"When will the kingdom of God come?"—remains one of the most vital we can ask today. Our exploration of Jesus's response, "the kingdom of God is entos hymōn," shows us that the search for the divine is often a search for what is already profoundly and intimately near.

The debate between "in your midst" and "within you" is ultimately a false dichotomy. Jesus was not offering a choice between an external reality and an internal one, but rather revealing their unity. The Kingdom is externally present in the person and work of Christ among his people, and it is internally accessible because the Holy Spirit, the power of the King, has made our very bodies the Temple of God's reign. This interior dimension was not absent even for searching Pharisees like Nicodemus, proving that the divine potential for the Kingdom to dwell within is an open invitation to all.

To live in the reality of God's Kingdom is to recognize this profound dual presence. It is to know that we do not need to wait for a spectacular event to see God's reign. We simply need to open both our inner eye to the divine indwelling and our outer vision to the divine manifest in our community. The Kingdom is not coming one day; it is breaking in right now, transforming the mundane into the sacred, one moment, one heart, one communal act of love at a time.