The Really Real

Richard Rohr invites us to enter the Reign of God—what he describes as the “Really Real”—even though we face many difficult “realities” in our lives.

Jesus announced, lived, and inaugurated for history a new social order. He called it the Reign or Kingdom of God, and it became the guiding image of his entire ministry. The Reign of God is the subject of Jesus’ inaugural address (Mark 1:15; Matthew 4:17; Luke 4:16–21), his Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7), and most of his parables.

Once this guiding vision of God’s will became clear to Jesus after his baptism and time alone in the desert, everything else came into perspective. In fact, Matthew’s Gospel says Jesus began to preach “from then onward” (4:17). He had his absolute reference point that allowed him to judge and evaluate everything else properly. [1]

What we discover in the New Testament, especially in Matthew’s Gospel, is that the Reign of God is a new world order, a new age, a promised hope begun in the teaching and ministry of Jesus—and continued in us. I think of the Reign of God as the Really Real.

That experience of the Really Real—the “Kingdom” experience—is the heart of Jesus’ teaching. It’s Reality with a capital R, the very bottom line, the pattern-that-connects. It’s the goal of all true religion, the experience of the Absolute, the Eternal, what is. [2]

In order to explain this concept, it may be helpful to say what it’s not: the “Kingdom” is not the same as heaven. Many Christians have mistakenly thought that the Reign of God is “eternal life,” or where we go after we die. That idea is disproven by Jesus’ own prayer: “Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). As always, Jesus joins earth and heaven.

“Thy Kingdom come” means very clearly that God’s realm is something that enters into this world, or, as Jesus often says, “is close at hand.” We shouldn’t project it into another world. It’s a reality that breaks into this world now and then, when people are like God.

God gives us just enough tastes of God’s realm to believe in it and to want it more than anything. In his parables, Jesus never says the Kingdom is totally now or totally later. It’s always now-and-not-yet. We only have the first fruits of the Kingdom in this world, but we experience enough to know it’s the only thing that will ever satisfy us. Once we have had the truth, half-truths can’t satisfy us anymore. In its light, everything else is relative, even our own life. When we experience the Kingdom or love of God, it becomes ultimate and real truth for us.

When we live inside the Really Real, we live in a “threshold space” between this world and the next. We learn how to live between heaven and earth, one foot in both, holding them precious together. [3]

Our Limited Perspectives

For Father Richard, contemplation begins as we realize the limits of our own perspective. Reality is far vaster than we can perceive. 

Every viewpoint is a view from a point. Unless we recognize and admit our own personal and cultural viewpoints, we will never know how to decentralize our own perspective. We will live with a high degree of illusion that brings much suffering into the world. I think this is what Simone Weil meant by stating, “The love of God is the unique source of all certainties.” [1] Only an outer and positive reference point utterly grounds the mind and heart.

One of the keys to wisdom is that we must recognize our own biases, our own addictive preoccupations, and those things to which, for some reason, we refuse to pay attention. Until we see these patterns (which is early-stage contemplation), we will never be able to see what we do not see. Without such critical awareness of the small self, there is little chance that any individual will produce truly great knowing or enduring wisdom. [2]

Only people who have done their inner work can see beyond their own biases to something transcendent, something that crosses the boundaries of culture and individual experience. People with a distorted image of self, world, or God will be largely incapable of experiencing what is Really Real in the world. They will see things through a narrow keyhole. They’ll see instead what they need reality to be, what they’re afraid it is, or what they’re angry about. They’ll see everything through their aggression, their fear, or their agenda. In other words, they won’t see it at all.

That’s the opposite of true contemplatives, who have an enhanced capacity to see what is, whether it’s favorable or not, whether it meets their needs or not, whether they like it or not, and whether that reality causes weeping or rejoicing. Most of us will usually misinterpret our experience until we have been moved out of our false center. Until then, there is too much of the self in the way. Most of us do not see things as they are; we see things as we are. That is no small point.

When we touch our deepest image of self, a deeper image of reality, or a new truth about God, we’re touching something that opens us to the sacred. We’ll want to weep or to be silent, or to run away from it and change the subject because it’s too deep, it’s too heavy. As T. S. Eliot wrote, “human kind cannot bear very much reality.” [3]

That’s why I—and so many others—emphasize contemplation. It’s the way of going to the experience of the absolute without going toward ideology. There’s a difference. It’s going toward the experience of the good, the true, the beautiful, the real without going into a head trip, or taking the small self—or one’s momentary vantage point—too seriously. 

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Near the end of his life, Henri Nouwen, a Dutch priest, professor, and author, became fascinated by a German trapeze troupe called the Flying Rodleighs. In their flying and spinning, he saw more than an exhilarating show—he saw an illustration of our life with God.Nouwen recognized that the flyer—the person soaring through the air—was not the star of the trapeze show. The flyer’s maneuvers are only possible because he fully trusts that he will be caught. Everything depends on the catcher. Nouwen saw the connection to the life of faith. “I can only fly freely when I know there is a catcher to catch me,” he wrote. Nouwen continued:“If we are to take risks, to be free, in the air, in life, we have to know there’s a catcher. We have to know that when we come down from it all, we’re going to be caught, we’re going to be safe. The great hero is the least visible. Trust the catcher.”Nouwen’s trapeze illustration captures an important reality. The courage to obey God is proportional to how safe we believe we are. In Naaman’s story, this sense of safety is what the king of Israel lacked. His fear prevented him from courageously helping his neighbor, and from fulfilling God’s purposes for Israel. I suspect his vision of God and his goodness was deficient.Maybe the king had forgotten the stories of how the Lord had rescued his ancestors from Egypt with signs and wonders, how he gave Joshua victory when the people entered the promised land, or the great ways he protected David—Israel’s greatest king. The king most certainly had ignored God’s many promises to protect Israel if they remained faithful to his covenant. Without being grounded in these stories and assurances the danger of his enemies filled his imagination more than the benevolence of his God .For the Christian, the New Testament takes this assurance even further. The cross is where we witness Jesus’ ultimate surrender of control to the Father. In death, Jesus released the bar to fly through the air entrusting himself entirely into the Father’s hands, and the resurrection is proof that God caught him and that he will catch us too. Therefore, we are free to truly fly—to trust God by loving both our neighbors and our enemies no matter how much the world threatens us. Last year, Tim Keller, one of our generation’s most influential Christian ministers and thinkers, passed away. I had the privilege of meeting Tim a few times and found him to be as thoughtful, humble, and wise in person as he was in the pulpit and with his pen. In 2020, after his cancer diagnosis, he was asked what he would say to Christians who are nervous about the future. His response is a reminder to trust the Catcher:“If Jesus Christ was actually raised from the dead…then everything’s going to be alright. Whatever you’re worried about right now, whatever you are afraid of, everything is actually going to be ok. Because we’re not just talking about resurrected people—and this is where Christianity is unique—we’re talking about a resurrected world. There are plenty of other religions that talk about a future afterlife which is a non-material world. In other words, you get a consolation for the world we’ve lost. Christianity says it’s not just your bodies being resurrected but the world is actually going to be a material world that’s cleansed from all evil and suffering and sin. If Jesus Christ was raised from the dead then the whole world is going to be resurrected and everything is going to be ok. Everything. ”DAILY SCRIPTURE ROMANS 8:18-25  2 KINGS 5:1-27 WEEKLY PRAYERAmbrose of Milan (340 – 397)Preserve your work, Lord. Guard the gift you have given even to those who pull back. For I knew I was not worthy to be called your servant, but by your grace I am what I am. And grant that I may know how with genuine affection to mourn with those who sin. Grant that as often as I learn of the sin of anyone who has fallen, I may suffer with them, and not scold them in my pride, but mourn and weep with them, so that in weeping over another I may also mourn for myself. Amen.

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