‘My kingdom is not of this world’ – and yet the church has a political calling

The Gospel of John is often contrasted with the other so-called "synoptic" Gospels in the Bible. John is usually described as a gospel with a "realised eschatology". In other words, according to John, God’s future has already become reality in the community of Christ’s followers. ‘Imagine all the people, living for today,’ as a more recent John phrased it. Already now, Christians can ‘abide in Jesus’ (the High Priestly Prayer), drink the living water (the woman at the well), be ‘born from above’, and belong to a spiritual kingdom (Nicodemus).

A non-political Gospel?

Additionally, compared with the other evangelists, the author of John does not seem particularly concerned about Roman oppression. Earthly power and politics do not appear to occupy his attention. That, the argument goes, is because his focus lies on the ‘last things’ as present realities. If every believer already lives with their "head in the clouds", what happens on the ground seems less important. Many biblical scholars therefore read John primarily as a spiritual and individual gospel — one that perfectly fits with Jesus’ words: ‘My kingdom is not of this world.’ Let Caesar play king here below; Jesus establishes a heavenly realm, already accessible to anyone who believes in him.

But is that really the case? Is the theology of this Gospel truly so spiritual, individual, and non-political? John is also the Gospel that opens with the Word becoming flesh (John 1:14) — that is, becoming human, bodily, earthly. Later we read the famous words, ‘For God so loved the world’ (John 3:16). And as those schooled in biblical studies will know, this is also the Gospel thought to have arisen within a particular community of early Christians — the so-called "Johannine community" (as proposed by Martin, 1968). What, then, does this focus on body, world, and community mean for John’s understanding of God’s kingdom?

The ruler of this world

Let us look more closely at a few passages in which this "world", its "ruler", and the "kingdom of God/Jesus" appear. The expression "ruler of (this) world" occurs three times in John’s Gospel (12:31; 14:30; 16:11). According to John 12:31, this ruler is ‘cast out of the world’. It is often assumed that this refers to Satan or the devil. Yet the term "ruler" (archōn) itself is neutral: it can describe human, divine, or demonic powers. Other biblical texts speak of Satan being cast from heaven (Luke 10:18) or thrown down to earth (Rev. 12:9). But that does not fit John’s portrayal — here, the ruler is expelled from the world. So, who else might John be referring to?

There are good reasons to suspect that John was referring to the Roman Empire and its emperor. In John 14:30, Jesus says: ‘I will no longer talk much with you, for the ruler of this world is coming. He has no power over me.’ Later, during his interrogation by Pilate, Jesus says: ‘You would have no authority over me unless it had been given you from above’ (John 19:11). Based on this parallel, Geurt Henk van Kooten (2018, 171-174) argues that the "ruler of this world" refers to the Roman authorities, with their limited power contrasted against divine authority.

However, according to Van Kooten, this does not mean that ‘Jesus is a political opponent of Rome’. Rather, his kingdom is "non-political" in nature. Earthly rulers simply do not matter — just as death itself does not matter to those who already live in the kingdom that ‘is not from here’. Yet, it is worth re-examining what Jesus actually means by this statement. Perhaps this kingdom is more "political" than it first appears.

Kingdom and world

The kingdom of God is less prominent in John’s Gospel than in the others. It appears in only two passages: first, in Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, where he explains that unless one is born ‘from above’ and ‘of water and Spirit’, one cannot see or enter the kingdom of God; and second, near the end of the Gospel, when Jesus stands before Pilate. 

It is here that Jesus says his kingdom is ‘not of this world’ (John 18:36 and 19:11). For many, this means that his kingship (or kingdom — the same Greek word) poses no threat to Rome’s authority. This seems to fit what follows:

Jesus answered, 'My kingdom does not belong to (ouk estin ek) this world. If my kingdom belonged to this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here (ouk estin enteuthen).'(Source: John 18:36, NRSVUE)

The preposition from (ek in Greek) indicates origin or source. Thus, the NRSVUE translates Jesus’ words as saying that his kingship does not belong to this world, meaning that its origin lies elsewhere and that it is defined by different principles. In other words, Jesus is saying: ‘My kingship has its source in another world.’ That does not imply, however, that it has no relevance for this world, nor that it poses no threat to Roman authority. Granted, the subsequent statement clarifies that its heavenly origin prevents Jesus’ followers from engaging in armed rebellion. So, violent resistance is excluded, yes — but the text says nothing against non-violent ways of challenging worldly powers.

Prefiguration: living the new world into being

How might such resistance look? Many forms of non-violent protest, past and present, have drawn inspiration from a vision of another, better world. These so-called prefigurative movements aim to embody that ideal world already in the present, by living according to its values and laws (see Van de Sande 2023; Sierksma-Agteres 2025). Well-known examples include the Occupy movement and the Arab Spring protests. Such communities, living as if the new world were already here, seek 'to create the new society “in the shell of the old”' (Leach, 2023). This is neither apolitical nor harmless to those in power: its very purpose is 'to create a kind of crisis of legitimacy within existing institutions' (Wolfe, 2012). When you see how things could be, it becomes clear that what seemed inevitable is only temporary and human. A prefigurative community thus places an expiry date on an empire.

Do we see such resistance in Jesus’ own words in John? When Pilate asks if he is a king, Jesus presents himself as a ‘witness to the truth’ (John 18:37). In Jewish apocalyptic literature such as 1 Enoch and Daniel, "truth" refers to the revelation of heavenly reality. Likewise, Jesus’ followers are called to be witnesses — through their lives, actions, and communal practices — to what the heavenly kingdom looks like. This act of witnessing may well involve a lifestyle that challenges existing societal structures.

At first, Pilate seems not to perceive Jesus’ kingdom as a threat and even considers releasing him. But the Jewish crowd warns that Jesus’ claims make him a rival to the emperor (John 19:12). During the crucifixion, a dispute arises over the inscription on the cross (John 19:19): is "King of the Jews" an empty yet dangerous claim (as the Jewish leaders think), or a true but harmless title (as Pilate insists)? John leaves the tension unresolved, inviting readers to decide how real and how subversive Jesus’ kingship truly is.

Sent into the world

A final hint that Jesus' kingdom is a resistance movement against empire is given by John's use of prepositions. A kingdom that is not from (ek) this world is nevertheless a kingdom that comes into (eis) this world. The preposition into (eis) plays a significant role in John as well. From the very beginning, Jesus is introduced as ‘the true light, which enlightens everyone, coming into (eis) the world’ (John 1:9). This distinction between ek (from) and eis (into) is beautifully expressed in Jesus’ prayer for his disciples: 

I am not asking you to take them out of (ek) the world, but I ask you to protect them from (ek) the evil one. They do not belong to the world (ek tou cosmou ouk eisin), just as I do not belong to (eimi ek) the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you have sent me into (eis) the world, so I have sent them into (eis) the world.(Source: John 17:15-18, NRSVUE)

Jesus’ followers, like their Lord, are not of the world — they do not live by its standards — but they are very much meant to be involved in the world, sent into it just as he was. And that has political implications. As prefigurative communities, churches are uniquely placed to experiment with the politics of the kingdom above. Through lifestyle, liturgy, and mutual care, they model a different, heavenly society 'in the shell of the old' that may well lead to a ‘crisis of legitimacy’ of existing power structures.

The future is already here

Once we recognise the importance of this being ‘sent into’ the world and the resulting tension with the world’s powers, it becomes striking that so many still regard the fourth Gospel as purely spiritual, individual, and apolitical. John opens with the Word entering the world, taking on flesh. Jesus fully embraced matter, embodied humanity in all its dimensions, and sparked a socio-political movement that challenged the imperial claims on time and space. Writing some sixty to seventy years later, John addressed communities of Jesus-followers living out that vision. These followers are no disembodied spirits proclaiming heaven as they float above the earth; they are called into the world to embody and showcase eternal life together, here and now, in real communities.  

 John’s Gospel thus reflects the tension that arose in the first century between the early Jesus movement and Roman imperialism. Perhaps it can also inspire us to live out eternal life together in today’s world. How does your community engage with those on the margins? With money, time, attention, social media, and technology? Which voices are amplified in your services and which remain unheard? Do we dare to name structural injustice? John shows us: God’s future is already here. Or, to borrow the words of an Occupy activist: The movement is the message!