At Clergy Colloquium this week, I found
myself in one of those conversations only clergy have. You have these types of conversations at
social gatherings with your co-workers.
No doubt Hunter’s people talk lots about printing because, well,
printing is their business. Gregg’s
people likely talk incessantly about insurance things like TPA’s or Co-Pay’s or
other words that tickle our ears outside the industry because, well, that’s
what they do. Teachers talk about
education or disciplining or research, doctors and nurses probably talk about
how much free advice is sought when they are at gatherings of non-doctors and
non-nurses. I see the laughter. This will likely come as no surprise, but we
clergy are no different. We talk about
uncooperative Vestries, clergy killers, and any number of other congregational
issues. This week, though, I found
myself listening to a complaint about the Farewell Discourses of Jesus. It’s the kind of complaint that can really
only be had among clergy. Every year, we
spend time reading and discussing Jesus’ farewell to His disciples. It gets
old was the primary complaint.
It was then that I reminded those around
me that we have four readings each week.
In theory, we could go several years without ever preaching on the
Farewell Discourses. But that means we would have to preach on
Acts or the Psalms or whatever letter.
Apparently, some clergy really only preach on the Gospel. During our conversation, though, we piqued
the interest of our bishop. Presumably,
he heard some words that made him think he needed to pastor us or that hit a
soft spot in him. He strolled over and
joined in the conversation. We shared
preaching stories, good and bad, and we talked about our approaches to
preaching on the different books.
Eventually, as it is the Season of Easter, the conversation turned to
the question of the book of Revelation.
I had to admit that I understood my colleague’s reticence to preach on
that book all too well. Bishop John
asked why, and I shared how I had been warned in seminary by a couple
Anglican/Episcopal luminaries never to
teach a Bible Study on the book of Revelation.
They had both experienced splits as a direct result of the book. One of the sage pieces of advice that they
had for a new priest was to learn from their mistakes!
Those of us gathered together
chuckled. But then the bishop asked the
questions. Did we not think all Scripture was worthy of study and training the
saints? Was not Revelation inspired by
God? Were we not doing violence to the
book by ignoring an entire book? Were we
not making our congregations more susceptible to the claims of the modern false
prophets by avoiding the important teachings in their entirety? So, partly as challenge but partly as recognizing
you have likely not heard much about the book, outside the works of Tim LeHay
or some other such preacher or author, I decided to preach on Revelation this
week.
The major difficulty with the book, I
think, is the style. This is as
challenging a book for us to read as, say, a book filled with Dilbert’s comics
might be two thousand years hence. Can
you imagine if societies 2000 years from now unearthed our favorite Dilbert
book? What would they think of our
business practices? That is the
difficulty you and I have with this book.
This style no longer really exists.
We call it an apocalypse. Most of
us today blur the meanings of apocalypse and Armageddon, when we really have
not stopped to consider what they really mean.
Armageddon is the site of the last eschatological battle in the book of
Revelation. It is a site. You can find it on a map. Apocalypse, though, comes from the Greek word
that means unveiling. In our lives as
Christians, what is veiled? We know that
God is at work in the heavens working out His plan of salvation for good,
right? But how is He doing that? Who are His workers? How does He convey His messages now?
I’ll give you another hint: when has a
veil been significant in the worship of God and its tearing? Yay!
You remembered! For those of us
who sleep through the readings, the Holy of Holies was surrounded by a veil
woven of four distinct cloths. The four
types of cloth represented the four elements: fire, wind, water, and
earth. They were woven together to keep
human beings from coming into contact with the righteous, holy God who cannot
tolerate any sin. We know this from
countless stories in the Old Testament.
Not even Moses or Elijah, the two great prophets who are present in the Transfiguration
of our Lord, were allowed to see God’s face.
The four cloths were woven together to create this incredibly think
curtain, echoing that God was there, even if we could not see or hear Him. Only the high priest, and only on the Day of
Atonement, could a human being enter the Holy of Holies, into the presence of
God.
One of the significant details of the
death and Resurrection of our Lord is the tearing of that veil from top to
bottom. Imagine the force that would be
required to tear four distinct cloths woven together. And the Gospel writers tell us it was torn
from the top to the bottom, signifying an action of God. What else explains the tearing from top to
bottom? Were human beings to have torn
the veil, we would start at the bottom where we can reach. Theologically, the tearing of the veil was of
incredible significance. Once again,
through the work and person of Jesus Christ, humanity had unhindered access to
God just as it did before sin. Everyone
could seek God anywhere. There was no “special,
designated” space for encountering the Lord.
In fact, Jesus will teach His disciples, who in turn taught those who
taught those who taught those who taught us, that the New Temple, the place
where God resides, is our heart. That
was one of the major apocalypses revealed by Christ’s death and Resurrection.
The book at which we are looking at today
speaks of the complete unveiling at the eschaton-the end of the age for those
of us who like fancy words or the Second Coming of our Lord Christ, to keep it
simple. Those of us who struggle with
the book seem to treat it like it is a bunch of unveilings, as if the title of
the book was plural. But John’s book is
in the singular. It is the book of
Revelation, the Book of The unveiling.
So what’s being unveiled?
Perhaps a great place to start is from
negative example. If there is only one
unveiling, does it make sense to read the book like a secret code for which we
need the secret key? One of the great
damages we do is to pretend as if the book can teach us the date of our Lord’s
return. It’s crazy to read the book this
way. Jesus reminds us Himself, in red
letters, that only the Father knows the day.
If only God the Father knows the day of Jesus’ return, does it make any
sense to you or to me that you or I or someone else will decipher the code?
But
what about the wars? What about the
famines? What about the diseases? The plagues?
The earthquakes? The floods? The
wars? What about them? Think back on Jesus’ teachings. He reminds us that wars will happen, that
nations will rise up against nations, and that these are but the
birth-pangs. When in history has there
not been wars? When has there not been
natural disasters? When has there not
been famines? Just because these things
have not impacted us or our ancestors directly does not mean they have been
terrible for those who lived through or died in them. It’s easy for us to think earthquakes are no
big deal when they happen in Haiti, in Ecuador, or Japan rather than central
Tennessee. It’s easy for us to think
nuclear accidents are of no major consequence when the polluted lands are in
Chernobyl or Japan and not Nashville or Brentwood. But they are horrible events, terrifying
events, cataclysmic events.
For what purpose did Jesus use these
natural disasters? He was teaching His
disciples and us of the need to be ready!
His return will be like a thief in the night, and we must needs always
be prepared! Our lamps should be filled
with oil—we should be adorning ourselves to use the language of John. We must be ready to accept the invitation to
come the moment it arrives. Otherwise,
we end up like the foolish ladies or those who are in the outer darkness,
gnashing our teeth and wailing in the outer darkness.
What
of the antichrist? Again, what of
them? Yes, you heard me right, I said
them. One of the challenges of reading
prophesy is that we cannot know how many times it might be fulfilled when God
is at work. As I said at the beginning,
in one sense this book is about THE unveiling at the end of the age, the
eschaton. In another sense, though,
there are lots of other little unveilings.
John wrote in a time when Roman persecution was a given. Nero rounded up Christians, placed pyres on
street corners, and lit our spiritual ancestors on fire at night so that they
could be a light in the world. The lucky
ones were just sold as slaves, after having their homes and businesses taken
from them. How messed up must that world
have seemed to them? We worship the King of Kings and Lord of
Lords? John, man, look around. He does not seem to care too much what is
happening to us. Either that or Nero is
too powerful. How does one speak of
an enemy of God and still stay alive?
Maybe one uses numerology . 666
equals Nero Caesar. Some Christians
freak out about buying stuff when the number is some form of three sixes, as if
those numbers have real power over us who have been redeemed by Christ’s
blood! In truth, ask someone in John’s
day to what it referred, and you would have gotten a name, if they felt you
could be trusted.
Have there been other antichrists? Of course.
Who among us would argue that Hitler, Stalin, Amin and countless others
have championed evil rather that Christ?
Heck, perhaps some of us have been antichrists in the lives of
others. I remind us constantly that the
way we live our lives, the way we interact with others, is the greatest sermon others
will ever hear. Ever met someone turned
off by the sermons of others? Ever meet
someone driven from the Church by antichrist-like behaviors of condemnation,
cover-up, and hypocrisy? I see the
squirms. Understand, there may yet be
lots more antichrists to come, but Revelation is less concerned with the
antichrists than with the new creation that follows Christ’s return. The antichrists, and THE antichrist, Satan,
are doomed to fail. They are fighting
the Alpha and the Omega. They have less
chance of winning against God than Vandy does against Alabama in football this
fall.
So what is being unveiled? Look at your reading today. I was raised in a Baptist and the Methodist
tradition. I remember as a child how the
Baptist pastor, Pastor Brewer, would justify his two and three hour sermons by
claiming they were a foretaste of the eternal worship we were to experience. Wives would complain about Sunday meals being
ruined because they had started roasts or hams or turkeys with the expectation
of being home by 12:30 or 1pm to take them out of the oven. Men would complain about missing sporting
events or rounds of gold, and this pastor would tell us of our need to repent
because the next life as going to be just like going to church. I see some of you have heard the same sermons
or learned the same lessons and suffer the same repulsion. Seriously.
Can you imagine spending an eternity in such an existence? If a few hours felt like an eternity, an
eternity in hell at that, what would an eternity feel like? Lol
If we come to church to thank God for what
He has done for us in Christ, to be encouraged when we are down, to be taught
what Christ-like behavior truly is, to share our joy with others when we are
joyful, what would be the purpose of such an existence in the life to
come? If our minds and hearts are
re-created to love what God loves, to hate what God hates, to know what God
wants us to know, why would there be a need for worship in the way we do it on
earth? If the veil has been completely
torn, and we are dwelling with a God who is dwelling with us, how is this kind
of church necessary? I would argue it is
not. Were I in a class at Vandy or
elsewhere, I would even argue that the purpose of this church will have been
fulfilled once Christ returns. Church
for us is meant to remind us of the heavenly truth. As above, so below. We come to church to give thanks, to seek
solace, to be fed and nourished and prepared for the work He has given us to do—all
with the hope that one day, one glorious day in the future, we will enter our Sabbath
rest with Him. But that is another
sermon . . .
Again, looking at the text, what is
unveiled? A new heaven and a new earth,
for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Can you imagine? At some point in the future, God will
recreate a new heaven and a new earth. It
might be in just a few seconds or it might be thousands of years from now, we
will dwell in a land completely untainted by human sin. For those surfers and beachcombers among us,
worried that there will be no crashing waves or sands for our toes or waves to
ride, the sea being no more is likely not a decision by God not to have
oceans. More likely, given the ANE and
its understanding of the seas, it is that polemic against chaos. In the world to come, when He creates the new
heaven and the new earth, there will be no chaos. It makes sense, right. We are returning to that period like the
Garden of Eden. We will walk with Him,
talk with Him, and have no need to worry about earthquakes or floods or any of
those chaotic events that seem to testify against His dominion. Life and Creation will be good, just as He
created them in the beginning.
I say like the Garden existence because it
will be in the Holy City. The city
descends, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. Throughout Scripture the eschaton is
described as a wedding feast. The
Church, you and me and the countless throng that has come before us, is adorned
as a bride for her husband. Our tattered
clothes are replaced with the finest clothes, most beautiful jewels, and resplendent
beauty. We face the ugliness of the
world, the perils of the world, the dangers of the world, the needs of the
world confident in our Betrothed. For
John our adornments are our acts of righteousness, especially to others. The new creation may not be here yet, but we
are always to be preparing ourselves, dressing ourselves, adorning ourselves,
as if it could happen any moment in our lives. Our service of others is our jewels. And our Betrothed is none other than the Lord
God, the Maker of heaven and earth. We
who seek God, who strain to hear His voice, see His handiwork in the world
around us, who beg Him like little children to give us every single want, will
dwell with God. The relationship for which we should be
longing will finally be consummated. I
see the squirms, but that is the language of the Bible, and it makes sense in
human terms, right?
Part of the fight that is plaguing us in
the church and in society at large is the understanding that consummation, I am
speaking in euphemism because we have a few youth here who I do not need to
grow up yet, feels great. Right? Why are you all blushing or giggling? It does.
Come on, let’s pretend we are adults and adult Christians at that. Consummation speaks to us of that acceptance
for which we all long, right? Deep down
we all want to be loved? We are afraid
we are unlovable, and we desperately do not want our fears to be confirmed? Why do you think consummation after major
fights is particularly desired by some?
Those fights often serve to strengthen our fears. Our willingness to return to one another as
husbands and wives testifies to the world around us of the desire our Lord has
for us. It becomes a sacrament,
right? We sin, we forgive, we return to
one another. Every time we sin against
one another we worry that the relationship is irreparably broken. When we sin against God, what do we
worry? What does the enemy of God try to
suggest? That our relationship with God
is irreparably broken. Consummation,
though, reminds us that the relationship is not broken. We are still loved. Intimately.
Despite our failures. All of a
sudden, we forget the world and the pressure of life for just a moment. Is there a better feeling? But consider how fleeting that feeling of
consummation, of acceptance and love truly is.
Is it any wonder that God uses that
language to describe THE Consummation?
How can there be no more tears?
How can there be no more sting?
How can Paul count the advantages and blessings of his life as mere crap
on the rubbish heap? What can make all these things we love and things we fear
not even worth a split second of our mourning, our crying, or our pain? That we are loved deeply and truly. That the One being in all the universe who
knows us best, who knows those things we hide desperately from one another,
would choose to dwell with us and to allow us to dwell with Him! Intimately.
Not out in the distant suburbs!
These seven verses ought to be incredible
words of comfort and hope for us and not the culmination of some fancy de-coder
effort. This nonsense you and I
experience on earth is passing away. Its
passing began with the work and person of Christ. Its passing will be completed at His return. To the world that rejects Christ and His
offer of salvation, this is all that there is.
But to those who call upon His name, the pains and suffering and the
joys and exultations of this life pale exponentially by comparison to the
existence God has planned for us. He is
the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. Nothing He purposes can be thwarted. His purpose, brothers and sisters, is that
one day He will dwell with us and we with Him for all eternity. He will be our God, and we will truly be His
people! He gave His life that we might
realize His plan for us. We can give
ours to Him confident that He will bring us home!
Peace,
Brian†
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