Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done,
As in heaven, so on earth.
(Matthew 6:10, Modern Reader’s Bible)

Bright sunlight unfiltered by any cloud
spread its glory across a high, blue dome of spring sky
as we trekked in Rich’s well-traveled van
across the flat, greening spaces of Northern Indiana prairie.
Dressed and ready for work we were,
having answered Rich’s call a day before
to share in the labor of the season,
tending gardens and cleaning barns,
alongside our sisters at the Kindy farm.
While sun and sky showered spring solace upon our heads,
death and destruction rained from
desert-dust-darkened skies over Iraq,
defiling the soil with the blood of Abel’s offspring,
drenching the sand with the tears of Rachel’s lament.
Our brother had left the family farm mid-winter
journeying across dangerous frontiers and desert spaces
answering the call from a voice crying in the wilderness
to stand in solidarity with Iraqi brothers and sisters,
to be a flesh-and-blood sign of the way of peace,
to bear witness to the possibility
that God’s reign
is THE reality
on which we must reckon
for our salvation.

…Jesus came into Galilee
proclaiming the gospel of God:
“The time has arrived;
the kingdom of God is upon you.
Repent, and believe the gospel.”
(Mark 1:14-15, REB)

The same call had fallen also upon my ear,
but after prayerful wrestling my heart discerned that I should remain,
to see whether, after all the centuries, perhaps the prophet
might prove more acceptable at home than he did in Nazareth.
Now, as the next season of warring and planting was upon us,
our brother lay convalescing in a hospital bed in Amman
after suffering injuries in a motor accident—
having been mercifully aided
by the passing stranger who made himself neighbor
along the bomb-wreckage-littered road to Jordan,
and then graciously nursed
by the grieving townsfolk and their doctor
whose hospital lay devastated and children lay dead from bombing.
While bombs burst upon Baghdad,
rendering buildings and bodies into rubble,
we rendered heart, soul, mind and strength—
shoveling manure, laying mulch, clearing debris—
to build up the soil’s life-sustaining power.
And as we bent our backs to the toil,
our meager labor was amply compensated
with the daily bread of earthy eucharist—

the nourishing substance of spiritual conversation,
the sweet odor of soil freshly overturned from winter rest,
tasty apple cake,
soft warbling wafting on the gentle breeze through budding trees,
cool, thirst-quenching water drawn up from the depths,
more tasty apple cake,
and the satisfying ache of a body tired from honest effort.

Do not keep striving
for what you are to eat and what you are to drink,
and do not keep worrying.
For it is the nations of the world
that strive after all these things,
and your Father knows that you need them.
Instead, strive for God’s kingdom,
and these things will be given to you as well.
Do not be afraid, little flock,
for it is your Father’s good pleasure
to give you the kingdom.
(Luke 12:29-32, NRSV)

As I kneeled down to pluck up and cast aside
plant stubble remaining from last year’s harvest—
left in place to hold the soil in its proper place,
to conserve with care the divine gifting—
the rain-softened ground hospitably received
the pressing weight of my body-presence
as if I were an expected guest
invited to sojourn there awhile.
My grateful hands greeted the fertile soil—
cool, dark, rich, sensuous delight—
the primal stuff of the mortal being
formed into flesh by craft of the divine hand
and warmed into life by breath of the eternal word.

What can we say the kingdom of God is like?
What parable can we find for it?
It is like a mustard seed
which at the time of its sowing in the soil
is the smallest of all the seeds on earth;
yet once it is sown
it grows into the biggest shrub of them all
and puts out big branches
so that the birds of the air
can shelter in its shade.
(Mark 4:30-32, JB)

Then, there, amidst the grace-full meeting of body, spirit and soil,
parable seeds scattered in good ground,
sprouting and growing we know not how,
yielded grain ripe for harvest—
peace with earth close to hand,
peace with neighbors near and strangers far,
peace with heaven and its Lord.
And looking up I saw
the kingdom of God
unveiled momentarily, elusively—
like Yahweh passing by with a mountain murmur—
here in this place where heaven and earth
are joined with mortar of mundane toil and fellowship.

You cannot tell by observation
when the kingdom of God comes.
You cannot say,
“Look, here it is!” or “There it is!”
For suddenly
the kingdom of God
will be among you.
(Luke 17:20b-21, REB)

—Darrin W. Snyder Belousek, Elkhart, Indiana, has taught at Goshen College and served in various overseas and service assignments, including most recently in the theology faculty at Lithuania Christian College. He currently teaches part-time in the philosophy Department at Bethel College (Mishawaka, Ind.) and studies part-time at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary.