2.26--Sermon on Revelation 21:1--22:5

One of my new favorite book series is coming to the silver screen this month. Suzanne Collins’, The Hunger Games, is a New York Times best seller, and even though it is located in the young-adult fiction section at Barnes and Noble, the trilogy is really a must read for all who enjoy immersing themselves in a new world full of rich plot and deep character development. I am very excited for the movie to come out, and I might even re-read the trilogy in preparation for it.

But here’s my problem. The four years of high school English I had to endure—not to mention having an English teacher as a mother—le my mind warped and twisted and made it impossible for me to read a good book and not wonder about the hidden depths of meaning that might be hiding just below the surface of the page. I’m sure that if you remember back to your days in the grind, you can remember having the same problems. Your teachers beating it into your brain that everything has a hidden meaning and that every novel, poem, or limerick is replete with symbolism.

Well maybe they were wrong.

Maybe that poem isn’t meant to symbolize the ultimate power that time holds over us and our inability to overcome it. Maybe it’s just about a tree that loses its leaves in the winter.

Maybe the author isn’t trying to satirize the dominant religious institution of its time as overly pious and power hungry. Maybe it’s just a good story about a boy standing up for what is right in the face of adversity.

Maybe we read too much into literature, and that B that I got in my senior English class was not because I refused to delve deeper into the mystery of the text but was because my teacher refused to admit that she really did not have any idea what the Shakespeare was thinking when he wrote King Lear.

I’ve wanted to think this for years. But when I read The Hunger Games trilogy, I couldn’t help but think that maybe my high school English teachers—and my mom for that matter—were… at least some of the time… right. You see, one of the main antagonists of the trilogy is the president of Capitol, an extravagant, overindulging society that thrives off of the work and toil of groups of people who are actively oppressed and impoverished so that the citizens of Capitol can live their lives of ease. The majority of these citizens does not know and could not comprehend the perpetual state of fear and tyranny to which everyone else subject; they seem to think that everyone has the opportunities for the same comforts and extravagant lifestyles to which they are privy.

And one of my friends made the comment the other day about how much the Grammy’s reminded her of Capitol. It hit me that Suzanne Collins was making a point—not that we are as bad as this oppressive regime, but that we could easily find ourselves there if we do not watch ourselves.

There was an added depth to her books, a symbolism prevalent for our world, here and now.

I guess I need to go back and thank my English teachers now… especially since they have equipped me with some of the necessary tools to find the depths of meaning in Scripture as well as in literature.

You see, our Bible—and most especially parts of it like our chapter from The Story for today—is full of symbolism and depths of meaning below the surface of the page. Let’s dive into this epistle from the Apostle John, sometimes called the Revelator, and see what hidden depths of meaning we can bring to the surface:

The Book of Revelation presents to us the triumphant Christ. We are assured in this epistle that in the end God wins. John the Apostle has been exiled to the Island of Patmos by Roman authority, and it seems like he will spend the rest of his life there alone and cut off from the church. But then he sees a vision of the Son of Man, who declares that He is “the Alpha and the Omega”, the One who was, is, and forever will be the Almighty. And the Almighty has a message for his church.

The Book of Revelation is a book of sounds, images and numbers. We catch our first glimpses of symbolism in the very first chapter. In verse 12, John turns to see the Son of Man next to seven lampstands. The lampstands are symbols for different churches. John is an artist with a pallet of metaphors and Revelation is more a book of imagination than explanation, more a symphony than a sermon, more theater than classroom lecture.

We see more symbolism in John’s use of numbers. The number 7 is used 54 times in Revelation, being the number of completion. Jesus visiting and speaking to seven of his churches means that Jesus visits and speaks to all of his churches.

The Book of Revelation presents to us the very center of the universe.  You see, it was commonly understood that Rome was the center of the world, and therefore the center of the universe. Everything revolved around it, and specifically around Caesar himself. God presents a different picture here, though. Through this revelation to John, God shows that the center of the universe is heaven, and the center of heaven is a throne, and that sitting on this throne is the Lord God. Rome is not the center of the world and is not in control of the world; God is. The United States of America is not in the center of our world and is not in control of our world. God is. God is up to something, and that something is the revelation of his glory.

Because God is at the center, and because God is in control, it will always come to pass that the Christ prevails and the church prevails against Satan and all adversaries. Evil, immorality, and sin cannot stand up to the power and love of God, and all the chaff is burned up in the consuming fire that is our Lord.

But the story continues. After the Christ’s victory over sin—death, Satan, however you want to put it—God creates a new heavens and a new earth for his redeemed people. As Christ says from Revelation 21, our reading from just a few moments ago, God makes all things new. The Book of Revelation and the whole Bible present the truth that God will make all things right.

And after Christ says this, the Apostle John is given a tour of the new Jerusalem, the throne of God on High. It is a marvelous structure with “a great, high wall with twelve gates”, three on each of the four sides. It is made from perfect and precious materials: “The wall is built of jasper, while the city is pure gold, clear as glass. The foundations of the wall of the city are adorned with every jewel; the first was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald, the fifth onyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, the twelfth amethyst. And the twelve gates are twelve pearls, each of the gates is a single pearl, and the street of the city is pure gold, transparent as glass.” Not the most practical thing in this day and age, but in the age to come, it will shine bright and flawless in the radiance of God.

And its gates never close. They “will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. People will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations. But nothing unclean will enter it, nor anyone who practices abomination or falsehood, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life.”

Sounds perfect, right? All who enter will be perfectly clean, washed pure by the blood of the Lamb and made new in his hands. No hate, no violence. No fear, no vanity. No prejudice, no racism. People can come and go as they please, knowing that safety and solace are given to all, and all join together in worship of the Almighty, who sits upon the throne. Perfect.

It is the end to The Story, and it wraps everything up nicely, book-ending the narrative with the wonderful work of God. Genesis presents the creation of the heavens and earth; Revelation presents the new heavens and earth. Genesis tells of the creation of the sun, moon and stars; Revelation tells that there is no need of the sun because God will be the light. Genesis tells of paradise lost; Revelation presents paradise regained. Genesis tells us that sin was in the first garden; Revelation tells us sin is banished forever from the new garden. The “new” in new heavens and earth and new Jerusalem means rejuvenated, not replaced. Reformed, not exchanged. Made perfect, not discarded for something better.

Yet, just like The Hunger Games, this is not a story devoid of a message and challenge for us today. The narrative calls us into action right now! You see, part of Jesus making all things new is filling God’s role as a consuming and purifying fire. The bad parts of us, our impurities, must be burned away. Otherwise, we could not enter into the New Jerusalem, for our impurities, our uncleanliness, would bar us from entrance as well as any gate would. The anger smoldering inside of us, the pride we foster within us, the prejudices we knowingly or unknowingly keep—all of this will have to go when we are made new.

But Christ does not want us to wait until that day of purging fire comes. Like the church in Laodicea from Revelation 3, we are called to be on fire for Christ right now, working always to purify ourselves of all of our uncleanliness now so that we might more fully participate in the Kingdom of God now. Christ says “Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.” We do not have to wait until God’s consuming fire is upon us to begin to burn away our impurities. We are called to strive to do so now!

We have an amazing account of what it will be like when God makes all things new. We have been given a glimpse of the world and age to come. But we have also been given the chance to enter into that world and age early, to experience the Kingdom of God and the presence of Christ here and now just as we will on that day to come. May we look forward expectantly to that day when we gather together on the New Earth, in the New Jerusalem, to worship God in spirit and in truth. May we long for the day when we can hear Christ proclaim, “See, I am making all things new.” But may we also strive to be that new creation now. May we hone in on our own impurities and begin the sometimes-painful process of ridding ourselves of them. And may we remember that the God who created the heavens and earth, that same God who will reform them and rejuvenate them in the time to come, is also the God who loves us and declares to us, “Surely I am coming soon.” Amen.