Kingdom, Not of This World

Be Careful What You Ask For

When Israel’s elders gathered at Ramah, their demand was clear and cutting: “Give us a king to judge us like all the nations”

—1 Samuel 8:5

Samuel was displeased not merely by their rejection of his aging leadership, but by what God revealed was a deeper betrayal: “They have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them” (1 Samuel 8:7). The people wanted a visible throne, a tangible crown, a system they could see and touch. They got exactly what they asked for. They also got everything God warned would come with it.

This ancient demand echoes loudly in contemporary Christianity, where some Christians desire a Christian nationalism, theocratic governance, and the establishment of explicitly Christian political systems. But before modern believers rush toward earthly kingdoms, they would do well to examine what Scripture actually reveals about God’s intentions for human governance—and the costly warnings embedded in Israel’s story.

The Divine Reluctance

God’s response to Israel’s demand reveals something crucial: their request was accommodation, not endorsement. The text doesn’t present monarchy as God’s preferred system but as divine reluctance yielding to human insistence. “Obey their voice,” God tells Samuel, but only after cataloging the inevitable abuses that will follow (1 Samuel 8:11-18).

The warnings are comprehensive and prophetic. Kings will conscript their sons for armies and their daughters for servants. They will seize fields, vineyards, and flocks for royal use. They will tax the people and make them servants. “You will cry out because of your king whom you have chosen for yourselves,” God warns, “but the LORD will not answer you in that day” (1 Samuel 8:18).

This isn’t theoretical theology—it’s practical prophecy. Every warning materialized in Israel’s subsequent history. Solomon’s forced labor battalions fulfilled the prophecy about conscripted sons. His seizure of Naboth’s vineyard through Ahab demonstrated royal land appropriation. The division of the kingdom after Solomon’s death proved that centralizing political power, even under divine blessing, breeds corruption and abuse.

The pattern is clear: God gave them what they demanded while making explicit the price they would pay. This wasn’t blessing—it was costly accommodation to human stubbornness.

The Theocratic Ideal Lost

What Israel abandoned by demanding a king wasn’t merely Samuel’s leadership but an entirely different model of governance. Under the judges, God ruled through temporary, Spirit-empowered leaders who emerged during crises and returned to normal life afterward. There was no standing army, no royal court, no permanent political machinery. The system functioned on direct divine intervention rather than institutionalized human authority.

This wasn’t mere government—it was God himself ruling. Yet the book of Judges repeatedly concludes, ‘Everyone did what was right in his own eyes’ (Judges 21:25). Theocracy was God’s design, but Israel’s sin distorted it long before monarchy. When Gideon refused permanent leadership, declaring “The LORD shall rule over you” (Judges 8:23), he wasn’t being modest—he was preserving the divine system Israel was designed to embody.

The demand for a king represented rejection of this supernatural order in favor of naturalistic governance “like all the nations.” They traded the extraordinary for the ordinary, the divine for the merely human. They wanted to be normal.

Jesus and the Kingdom Question

The New Testament doesn’t merely modify the Old Testament’s political vision—it transforms it entirely. When Jesus declares, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36), he’s not describing geography but ontology. The kingdom he inaugurates operates by fundamentally different principles than earthly governments.

Consider the temptation narrative in Matthew 4. Satan offers Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world and their glory” in exchange for worship. Jesus’ refusal isn’t strategic delay—it’s categorical rejection of the entire premise that divine purposes are advanced through earthly political dominance. The Son of God wouldn’t seize political power even when offered it freely.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus consistently rejected political messianic expectations. When crowds sought to make him king by force, “he departed again to the mountain by himself” (John 6:15). When disciples argued about positions in his kingdom, he taught them about servanthood rather than governance structures (Mark 10:42-45). When asked about taxes to Caesar, he acknowledged dual loyalties rather than claiming political supremacy (Matthew 22:21).

The Sermon on the Mount presents kingdom ethics that are fundamentally incompatible with coercive governance. “Turn the other cheek,” “love your enemies,” “bless those who curse you”—these aren’t policies for civil magistrates but principles for kingdom citizens whose primary allegiance transcends earthly systems.

The Apostolic Pattern

The early church’s approach confirms this trajectory. Paul’s instructions about governing authorities in Romans 13 don’t advocate for Christian political takeover but for discerning submission to rulers who are meant to be ‘not a terror to good conduct, but to bad’ (Romans 13:3), while maintaining higher loyalty to God’s kingdom. Peter’s similar counsel in 1 Peter 2:13-17 presents the same dual citizenship model.

When Paul was arrested, he appealed to Caesar rather than claiming religious authority should supersede civil authority. When early Christians faced persecution, they responded with martyrdom rather than political revolution. The consistent pattern shows believers engaging with political systems as subjects and citizens, not as theocratic conquerors.

The book of Revelation, written during intense political persecution, envisions ultimate divine victory but notably avoids calling Christians to earthly political dominance. Instead, it unveils the fall of Babylon and the coming of the New Jerusalem, contrasting collapsing empires with the Lamb’s eternal reign. The Lamb who was slain conquers through suffering love, not political machinery.

The Contemporary Temptation

Modern desires for Christian nationalism often mirrors Israel’s demand at Ramah: believers wanting visible, institutional Christian dominance “like all the nations.” The desire for Christian presidents, Christian laws, Christian cultural hegemony reflects the same impulse that drove Israel away from direct divine governance toward conventional political structures.

But the biblical warnings remain unchanged. Political power corrupts those who wield it, even—perhaps especially—those who claim divine sanction. History provides abundant evidence: when religious movements gain political authority, they typically compromise their prophetic voice and spiritual mission in service of maintaining power—proving again Jesus’ words, ‘My kingdom is not of this world’ (John 18:36).

Constantine’s embrace of Christianity in the fourth century illustrates this pattern. Official Christian status brought institutional strength but also spiritual compromise as the church adapted its message to serve imperial purposes. Medieval Christendom demonstrated how religious political dominance breeds corruption, persecution of dissent, and eventual popular rejection of the faith itself.

The Reformation partly occurred because institutional Christianity had become indistinguishable from political authority, leading to the very corruptions God warned about in 1 Samuel 8. When the church gains earthly power, it often loses heavenly authenticity.

The Cost of Getting What We Want

Scripture’s pattern suggests that when God’s people insist on earthly solutions to spiritual problems, God may grant their requests while allowing them to experience the full consequences of their choices. Israel got their king and endured centuries of tyranny, division, and exile that followed. The northern kingdom fell to Assyria; the southern kingdom fell to Babylon. The very institution they demanded ultimately led to their destruction.

Contemporary believers advocating for Christian political dominance should consider whether they’re repeating Israel’s error. The desire for Christian nationalism often reflects dissatisfaction with the challenging, countercultural nature of authentic Christianity in favor of institutional power that makes faith appear successful by worldly standards.

But Jesus never promised worldly success. He promised persecution, rejection, and the narrow way that few would find (Matthew 7:14). He called his followers to be salt and light—preservatives and illumination in a decaying, dark world—not rulers and conquerors (Matthew 5:13-16).

The church’s prophetic role requires independence from political systems, not control of them. Prophets speak truth to power; they don’t become the power. When religious movements prioritize political victory over spiritual faithfulness, they often achieve the former while losing the latter.

Divine Sovereignty Over Human Authority

Scripture presents a striking paradox: God establishes all governing authorities (Romans 13:1), yet his people are called to be “not of this world” (John 17:16). This tension reveals crucial truths about how believers should engage with earthly power structures.

Paul’s declaration that “there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God” applies universally—to righteous rulers and corrupt ones alike. God raised up Pharaoh to demonstrate his power (Romans 9:17). He used Assyria as “the rod of my anger” against unfaithful Israel (Isaiah 10:5). He called Cyrus, a pagan Persian king, “my anointed” for accomplishing divine purposes (Isaiah 45:1).

This divine sovereignty means believers can serve in government without compromise when God calls them to such roles. Joseph served Pharaoh faithfully while maintaining his distinct identity as God’s servant. Daniel held high office in both Babylonian and Persian courts while refusing to compromise his convictions. Nehemiah leveraged his position as cupbearer to rebuild Jerusalem’s walls. These men understood their earthly authority as temporary stewardship under ultimate divine sovereignty.

But Scripture also reveals that God uses ungodly leaders to accomplish his purposes—including the discipline and awakening of his own people. When Israel’s kings led them into idolatry, God used foreign armies to bring judgment and eventual repentance. The captivity to Babylon, orchestrated through pagan rulers, ultimately purified Israel of idolatry and prepared them for the Messiah’s coming.

Contemporary believers must grasp this biblical reality: God may use leaders who oppose Christian values to chasten his church and call it back to faithfulness. The rise of aggressively secular leadership might serve divine purposes just as much as the installation of Christian leaders—perhaps more so if it awakens complacent believers to their true calling as citizens of heaven.

The Greater Kingdom

The gospel presents a kingdom that doesn’t compete with earthly governments but transcends them. Citizens of this kingdom live as “sojourners and pilgrims” (1 Peter 2:11) whose primary allegiance lies beyond any earthly system. They engage in civic life as faithful citizens while maintaining critical distance from all human institutions.

This doesn’t mean political withdrawal or civic apathy. When God calls believers to governmental service, they should respond faithfully, following the examples of Joseph, Daniel, and Nehemiah. Christians should vote, advocate for justice, and work for human flourishing within existing systems. But they should do so as kingdom citizens first, recognizing that God’s purposes transcend any particular political outcome.

The difference is crucial. Kingdom citizens work for justice because they love their neighbors, not because they seek to install Christian rule. They advocate for biblical values because they believe truth benefits everyone, not because they want religious supremacy. They serve in government as stewards of temporary earthly authority, not as builders of permanent Christian political dominance.

The Warning Remains—Be Careful What You Ask For

When Israel’s elders left Ramah with Samuel’s reluctant promise to give them a king, they thought they had won a victory. History proved they had chosen a burden that would plague them for generations. The visible throne they demanded brought visible tyranny. The earthly kingdom they craved led to earthly captivity.

The same warning echoes for contemporary believers: be careful what you ask for. The Christian nationalism some advocate may succeed in establishing religious political dominance. It may achieve so-called “Christian” presidents, Christian laws, and Christian cultural dominance. But if history and Scripture are any guide, our own sin nature, and even tares amongst the wheat will corrupt what we thought what we would gain.

Political power requires compromise, pragmatism, and the willingness to use coercion to achieve desired ends. These necessities are fundamentally at odds with the gospel’s call to voluntary love, radical forgiveness, and self-sacrificial service. When religious movements embrace political dominance, they typically end up serving the interests of power rather than the principles of faith.

The kingdom Jesus inaugurated doesn’t need earthly political victory to accomplish its purposes. It advances through changed hearts, transformed lives, and the patient work of salt and light in a decaying world. It conquers through love, not legislation; through service, not sovereignty; through the cross, not the crown.

Israel’s demand at Ramah echoes as both historical event and perpetual warning. When God’s people insist on earthly solutions to spiritual challenges, they may get exactly what they ask for—and discover too late that what they wanted carried a price they weren’t prepared to pay. The visible kingdom they demanded ultimately led them away from the invisible King who had wanted to rule their hearts. In getting their earthly desire, they lost their heavenly calling.

Today’s believers would do well to remember: some victories are actually defeats in disguise, and the cost of getting what we want may be losing what we most need. The God who reluctantly gave Israel their king continues to warn his people today: count the cost before you make your demands. The kingdom of heaven operates by different rules than the kingdoms of earth, and those who insist on the latter may find they’ve forfeited access to the former.