#1 The Kingdom Has Come Near

This series follows Mark's Gospel from beginning to end, exploring every verse in which the word “kingdom” appears.

The Kingdom of God lies at the heart of Jesus' proclamation. As we move through Mark, we will discover what Jesus means by the Kingdom, what it looks like, and what it means to live under God's reign.

Each meditation invites us to pause, listen to Mark, and ask what the Kingdom means for us today.

Jesus begins his public ministry with an announcement:

There are only a few words here, but they carry the weight of the whole biblical story.

Let's start with the word “kingdom.”

When Jesus speaks about the kingdom of God, he isn't talking about heaven. He isn't saying, “One day you can go to God's kingdom when you die.” And he isn't simply talking about the church.

The kingdom of God is God's reign — God's rule, God's kingship becoming visible and effective in the world.

To understand what Jesus means, we need to hear the story of Israel behind his words.

Israel's story begins with a God who is already King. God creates the world, orders it, gives it life and declares it good (Genesis 1). But humanity rebels against God's rule, and the story of Scripture becomes the story of God's determination to restore his good reign over his creation.

Israel is called to be God's people, living under God's rule and embodying God's purposes.

But Israel's story is complicated. Its kings fail. David's dynasty becomes corrupt. Israel is conquered and exiled. Jerusalem falls. The people wait.

And the prophets begin to speak about a future in which God himself will come to reign.

Isaiah declares:

The Psalms celebrate God as King. Daniel looks forward to the day when the kingdoms of this world will give way to the kingdom of God:

Throughout Israel's Scriptures there is this deep longing: What would it look like if God's kingship were no longer merely confessed but actually seen?

What if God's reign became evident? What if justice replaced oppression, the poor were lifted up, the broken were restored, evil was defeated, God's people were forgiven and renewed, and creation itself was healed?

That is the kingdom of God Jesus is announcing.

It is not primarily a territory. It is the effective exercise of God's kingship. The kingdom is what happens when the King reigns.

And this is why Jesus' announcement is so explosive.

He doesn't merely say, “God is King.” Israel already knew that. He says, in effect:

The reign of God you have longed for is now beginning to happen.

Then we come to the next phrase:

“The time has come.”

The Greek word is kairos — not simply chronological time, the passing of one minute after another, but the decisive moment.

The moment God has been preparing for. The moment Israel has been waiting for. The promises are beginning to become reality.

The time has come.

And then:

“The kingdom of God has come near.”

The Greek word is engizō — to draw near, to approach, to come close.

Some translations capture the force of it with:

There is movement in the word. The kingdom is not sitting at a safe distance. It is approaching. The distance is closing.

Think of the first light of sunrise. At first there is only a faint brightness on the horizon. The darkness is still there, but something has changed. You know that dawn is coming.

Or think of a train approaching a station. Before you see it, you hear it. You feel the vibration.

Something is arriving.

That is Jesus' announcement.

The future Israel has been waiting for is arriving.

And notice the remarkable thing: the kingdom is arriving in and through Jesus himself.

His healings are signs that God's restorative reign is breaking in. His exorcisms are signs that the reign of evil is being challenged. His forgiveness announces that God's mercy is becoming present. His welcome of sinners and outsiders demonstrates what God's kingdom looks like. His teaching reveals the values of the King.

And ultimately, his death and resurrection become the decisive demonstration that the powers of sin and death will not have the final word.

So when Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is at hand,” he is announcing that the long-awaited future of Israel has begun to arrive in the present.

And therefore Jesus says:

“Repent.”

The Greek word is metanoeō — to change one's mind, to change one's way of thinking.

But repentance is much more than feeling sorry for the things we have done wrong. It is a change of worldview.

Jesus is saying: Learn to see the world differently because God's reign is breaking in.

Look again at what you thought was ultimate. Rome? Wealth? Power? Violence? Status?

There is another King. There is another kingdom. There is another way of being human.

Repentance means allowing Jesus to reconfigure our imagination — to change what we believe is true, what we think matters, where we think history is going, and therefore how we live.

It is not simply turning away from something. It is turning towards a new reality because we have discovered that the world is not what we thought it was.

And then Jesus says:

“Believe the good news.”

The Greek word is euangelion — good news, announcement, proclamation.

And that distinction matters.

Jesus isn't primarily giving good advice. He is proclaiming good news.

Advice says, “Here is what you should do.”

An announcement says:

“Here is what God is doing.”

The gospel begins with God's action.

God's reign is drawing near. God is acting. The King is coming. The future is breaking into the present.

And because that announcement is true, we are invited to believe it — not simply to agree with it intellectually, but to trust it, stake our lives upon it, and begin living according to it.

So these few words contain the heartbeat of Jesus' proclamation: the time has come, the kingdom is at hand, change the way you see, and trust the good news.

And this brings us to one of the most important ideas in biblical theology:

It sounds technical, but the idea is actually quite simple.

Eschatology is about the eschaton — the future God has promised: resurrection, judgement, the defeat of evil, the renewal of creation and the fullness of God's reign.

Jesus announces that this future has already begun.

That is what inaugurated means. The kingdom has started. It has been launched. It has begun.

But it has not yet come in its fullness.

Theologian Oscar Cullmann gave us a memorable way of imagining this. He compared the decisive victory of Jesus to D-Day in the Second World War. D-Day was not the end of the war. The Allies had not yet reached VE Day. But D-Day was the decisive turning point. The outcome had been fundamentally determined, even though the fighting continued.

So it is, Cullmann suggested, with the kingdom.

The decisive battle has been won in Jesus' death and resurrection, but the final victory has not yet been fully manifested.

That helps us understand the strange Christian experience of living between “already” and “not yet.”

The kingdom is already breaking in. We see it in Jesus' ministry: the sick are healed, sinners are forgiven, outcasts are welcomed, demons are confronted, the poor hear good news, and death itself is challenged. These are signs of the future breaking into the present.

And yet the kingdom has not come in all its fullness. Evil remains, suffering remains, and death still has its terrible presence in our world.

The world is still waiting.

And so we still pray:

We live between D-Day and VE Day, between the first light and full sunrise, between the beginning of the arrival and the moment when everything has arrived.

Already, but not yet.

The kingdom is not heaven. It is not simply the church. It is not somewhere we go.

It is God's reign becoming evident.

And Jesus' announcement is that this long-awaited reign of God has begun to draw near.

Indeed, in Jesus, the future has started to arrive.

So the question for us is not simply, “Do I believe in Jesus?”

It is:

“If God's reign really is breaking into the world, what would it mean for me to begin living under that reign now?”

What would change in the way I see power and money? Success and status? The poor and my neighbour? My enemies and my own life? What would change in the way I understand suffering, hope and the future?

Because Jesus is announcing more than a new set of religious beliefs.

He is announcing that God's long-awaited future is pressing into the present.

And the invitation is simple:

Look again. Repent. Believe.

And live now in the light of the kingdom that is coming.