Last fall, I took a class on the Theology of the New Evangelization, and it emphasized over and over again that the Church on Earth has this aspect of “already, but not yet.” As in, it’s the Kingdom of God imperfectly realized, the Kingdom of God here on Earth, the Kingdom of God for us to experience already, but not yet in its fullness.
Being a senior in college, I am often asked some variation of “What are you doing next year?” I think I have grown more frustrated with that question than I thought I would, largely due to the many unknowns. I don’t know where I’m going to live, what I’ll do for work, or how that will all come about. I don’t even know where I want to live, what I want to do for work, or how I want it to come about.
But I think the most difficult part of looking into the next year is this concept of “already, but not yet.” For example, I’m almost done with school already, but not yet. When I’m in my internship in the spring I will be in the workplace full-time already, but not yet will I be an actual employee for a company/organization. The list goes on. There is an element of discontentment that is threaded through these different aspects of my life because of the “already, but not yet.” A year from now I could have the college degree, the perfect job, and the perfect life, and I could be happy already, but not yet fully happy.
This weekend in St. Peter’s Square in Rome, Pope Francis canonized five people as saints of the Church, thanks be to God! These women and this man were recognized for the holy and joyful lives they lived here on earth, but they were named saints because they had accomplished the greatest achievement—to spend eternity in paradise with our Lord. Something in my mind knit the canonizations and the constantly looming cloud of an unknown future together in a way that re-revealed a truth I had already known—this discontentment will not leave until I leave this earth. While on Earth, I will hopefully be living a life that makes me happy already, but not yet will I be completely happy. I will hopefully be living a life of joy and peace already, but not yet will I have the fullness of those things. I will hopefully be living a life that will sanctify me already, but not yet will I be totally sanctified.
It’s extremely difficult to live in the “already, but not yet,” but it’s the essence of the Christian pilgrimage Home. And when contemplating this concept, the words that echo in my heart are those of St. Augustine, a great saint who, during many years of his life, attempted to assuage his discontentment with the things of this world, until coming to the conclusion, upon his conversion, that it could not be done:
You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.
I have no idea what the next year will hold, but praised be Jesus Christ for the wrestling that comes from the “already, but not yet,” for without it, I would not thirst for my true Home.