Whose Kingdom

Preparing ourselves for the kingdom of heaven

06/08/2019

Acts of the apostles 28:16-20, 30-31 When he entered Rome, Paul was allowed to live by himself, with the soldier who was guarding him. Three days later he called together the leaders of the Jews. When they had gathered he said to them, "My brothers, although I had done nothing against our people or our ancestral customs, I was handed over to the Romans as a prisoner from Jerusalem.After trying my case the Romans wanted to release me, because they found nothing against me deserving the death penalty. But when the Jews objected, I was obliged to appeal to Caesar, even though I had no accusation to make against my own nation. This is the reason, then, I have requested to see you and to speak with you, for it is on account of the hope of Israel that I wear these chains." He remained for two full years in his lodgings. He received all who came to him, and with complete assurance and without hindrance he proclaimed the Kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ.

A maxim that was coined in the Middle Ages has profound implications today politically, personally and even in paradise. This maxim is like a rock thrown into the middle of a lake whose ripples reach the remotest shores. The phrase in Latin is: “cuius regio, eius religio.” Literally, that means “whose kingdom, his religion.” For instance, if you lived in Spain and the monarch was Catholic, you would have to be Catholic, and poor Protestants would have to convert to Catholicism. If you lived in India, where the king was Hindu, then you would have to be Hindu, which means no more hamburgers for you because they don’t eat meat. A little closer to home, this maxim fueled the fears of many Americans in electing John F. Kennedy, a Catholic, as president of the United States. Why? Well, some people thought the pope would run the country, and the president would be little more than his puppet. The phrase “cuius regio, eius religio” carries very practical consequences for every age.

While the maxim was not coined until the Middle Ages, we see it already lending a hand in the evangelical efforts of the early apostles. In the last chapter of Acts of the Apostles, St. Paul makes his way to Rome, the Imperial Capital, the throne of Caesar (the king), not only to save his own skin, but also to save souls. And do you know whose soul in Rome Paul wanted to convert to Christianity more than anyone else’s? You guessed it: it was Caesar’s, the king’s soul. At that time the emperor was Nero, who watched Rome burn – some say while he famously played his fiddle – then he blamed the Christians for the catastrophe, and finally had St. Paul beheaded as an act of feigned justice.

But Paul wasn’t alone in Rome. Peter, too, ended up there the last years of his life and was martyred, crucified, upside-down, in the same persecution under Nero that claimed Paul’s life. In other words, Peter and Paul were like two nuclear warheads of grace aimed at Rome. Why? Simple: “cuius regio, eius religio.” If you convert the king to Christianity, the Church’s evangelical efforts would sky rocket exponentially. And that’s exactly what happened in 313 with the conversion of Emperor Constantine. The whole Roman empire became Catholic virtually overnight. Whose kingdom, his religion.

So far, I have only talked about the political side of this phrase. Now let me hit a personal note, as well as say a word about paradise. It is rare these days that I celebrate the marriage of two Catholics. Often one party is Catholic and the fiancé is another denomination. Of course, the Church permits such mixed marriages and it’s true that sometimes the non-Catholic person converts. But the opposite can also happen: that is, the Catholic could leave the Church, or simply stop practicing his or her faith. Some of you old-timers might remember many years ago such mixed marriage had to be celebrated in the rectory not even in the church proper. The reason for that custom was not because such marriages are bad, but because such marriages run a risk. What risk? Well, not only the risk of the conversion of the Catholic to another faith, but the religious identity of the future children. Each husband and wife is a king and queen in their home, their kingdom, and the children are their subjects and will follow their religion. I wish young people would consider this medieval maxim when they start dating: cuius regio, eius religio.” Whose kingdom, his (or her) religion.

And finally, when we get to heaven (hopefully) what religion will everyone enjoy? Will we be Hindus? Will we be Protestants? Will we be Catholics? Will we be Buddhists? That reminds me of the popular joke about St. Peter greeting people entering heaven. A Methodist enters and St. Peter says: “You are in House 11, but be quiet as you walk by House 8.” To a Catholic he says: “You are in House 45, but be quiet as you walk by House 8.” To a Mormon St. Peter says: “You will be in House 23, but be quiet as you walk by House 8.” The Morman stops and asks: “Why do you have to be quiet walking by House 8?” St. Peter answers: “That’s the Baptist house and they think they are the only ones here.” My personal belief is that everyone is given the possibility to enter paradise, regardless of religion or even no religion. But once we’re in the Kingdom of Heaven, we will have to worship the way the King decides. And I say the following with great respect: the King’s way of worship will be the Catholic way.

In heaven, everyone will be Catholic, but with this caveat: it won’t be exactly the Catholicism we see on the streets today. St. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 2:9, “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard…what God has prepared for those who love him.” We have not seen the Church, the Bride of Christ, without spot or wrinkle. She is far from perfect today. But when we do glorious and beautiful in heaven, we will realize the full import and impact of the maxim: “cuius regio, eius religio,” whose kingdom, his religion.

Praised be Jesus Christ!