In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.
Wasn’t
Easter a magnificent day at St. Luke’s? The azaleas were in full bloom, the
music was outstanding, the church was full of people, and we baptized three
young girls. Easter was magnificent. Then Easter Monday came; and it’s not that
Easter Monday was a particularly bad day, but it wasn’t quite a grand as
Easter. On Easter we shouted with gusto the victory cry of “alleluia!” and we
talked about how God conquered sin, death, pain, and evil in Jesus’ Resurrection.
But then on Easter Monday, when we opened the newspaper or got on Facebook, we
were reminded that our world is still full of sin, death, pain, and evil.
Yes,
Easter is certainly the high point of our liturgical year and our faith, but as
we all know, life is not lived on the mountaintop, but rather on the plains and
in the valleys. As we return to the reality of life in those places, we are
often reminded that there is still brokenness. We might even shed Easter tears,
lamenting that the joy of Easter doesn’t seem to have quite infiltrated all
aspects of our world.
That
is where this wonderful text from Revelation comes into play. Before getting
into the text though, I do want to say a few things about the book of
Revelation. This book has a checkered history, often being ignored except by groups
that are quite literally, hell-bent. Martin Luther once said “my spirit cannot
accommodate itself to this book.” Indeed, Revelation can be a puzzling book,
but that doesn’t make it a puzzle to solve.
Revelation, and notice
that there is no “s” on the end of that word, is a book in the genre of
apocalyptic literature. Generally, apocalyptic literature is written by a
community that finds itself persecuted, and it becomes a sort of resistance
literature. Often this writing is enigmatic so that those in power won’t be
able to understand it. “Apocalypse” is a word that means to “uncover.”
Apocalyptic writing reveals something to us, and what Revelation reveals has
nothing to do with how the end of the world will unfold. Rather, what the
revelation to John reveals is what God’s ultimate victory on Easter was all
about. The gospels give us a sense of the Resurrection’s power, Paul’s letters
give us insight into how the early followers of Jesus sought to live in the
risen life of Jesus, and Revelation gives us a glimpse of what the Resurrection
might look like from God’s perspective.
Revelation
reveals to us that, indeed, Easter is all about victory. Though the great
multitude that we see gathered around the throne are those identified as having
come out of the “great ordeal,” this text is all about victory. Revelation
makes it clear that “salvation belongs to our God” and that “blessing, glory,
wisdom, thanksgiving, honor, power, and might belong to God.” The victory
belongs to Jesus, not us. Christ’s death and Resurrection is what wins the
victory, not our courage, accomplishments, or determination. There is nothing
that we do to “deserve” the victory or earn grace – as salvation comes through
the blood of the Lamb.
Speaking
of the Lamb, today is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. There is something rather
interesting about this text though as it relates to Jesus being the Good
Shepherd, namely that here, Jesus is more closely identified with a lamb than a
shepherd. Revelation notes that, paradoxically, “the Lamb at the center of the
throne will be their shepherd.” This is a very different view of the Good
Shepherd. Sheep are not known for their ferocity, or strength, or intelligence.
The
Gospel really doesn’t make sense, so it is fitting that the image of Jesus of
the throne is that of a Lamb. The world is all about obtaining power, prestige,
and wealth; while the Lamb is powerless and suffers greatly. But in that
suffering, there is redemption, in that vulnerability is salvation, in that meekness
is power.
Scholars
are somewhat divided on the question on when Revelation was written, but there
is wide consensus that it was written during a time of persecution, fear, and
bloodshed. It was written to give comfort and confidence, and these powerful
words can do so today as much as they did some 2,000 years ago. There’s a
wonderful prayer that is found in the service of Compline in our Prayer Book that asks for God’s presence
to be known “so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life
may rest in your eternal changelessness.” In essence, that is what the book of
Revelation is all about it. Revelation tells us about the victory and peace
that come through the Lamb’s sacrifice of love. It pulls back the curtain of
heaven and gives us a glimpse of the salvation that comes as a result of Jesus’
Resurrection.
We misunderstand and
misuse Revelation when we read it as a text that tells us about some time in
the future. While it may say something about God’s ultimate desire for all of
Creation to live in peace and harmony, the power the Resurrection is not
something that is stuck in the future. After all, we proclaim that the
Resurrection of Jesus is all about liberation, and that includes liberation
from living with hope being stuck in the future. Hope and the promise of
heavenly rewards are not supposed to be a carrot that is held in front of us as
we go round and round the racetrack of life. The words of promise that we heard
today aren’t intended to provide comfort by telling us that one day things will
be okay, they tell us that things are already okay, and invite us into that
peace. It’s what we pray in the Lord’s Prayer – “thy Kingdom come on earth as
it is in heaven”, not “one day bring us to heaven.” God’s peace, love, and
salvation are not stuck somewhere else in a place we call “heaven,” they are
gifts to be received today. So though we may go through great ordeals, God will
be at our side. Though we may face betrayal, brokenness, war, famine, disease,
depression, addiction, unemployment, we will not be alone and we will not be
unredeemed.
Faith is not a vaccine
that protects us from suffering, it is a balm that heals our wounds. And that
balm is God’s presence. Suffering will not stop redemption. Pain will not scare
God away. Doubt will not hinder God’s peace. Revelation reveals that God can be
described as “the One who is present.” The text says that “the one who is
seated on the throne will shelter them.” That word, “shelter,” is packed full
of meaning. It’s a word that refers to the Holy of Holies in the Temple; the
place of God’s very presence. It’s the word that is found in the Gospel
according to John to describe the eternal Word becoming flesh. That text is
often translated as “and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” and that
word “dwelt” is the same word that we find here translated as “shelter.” It’s a
word that connotes the radical, pervasive, and redeeming presence of God with
us.
While this victory of God
doesn’t eliminate temporal pains like evil or death, it does transform our
vision to see God’s eternal and abiding presence. The Lamb’s victory means that
though we may face ordeals, the ordeals will not always follow us. Revelation
reveals that brokenness will not have the final word, because there will come a
day when “They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike
them, nor any scorching heat… and he will guide them to springs of the water of
life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” It is a promise, in
the words of Julian of Norwich, that “all shall be well, and all manner of
things shall be well.”
This promise gives us the
ability to live in the power of the Resurrection, even if we are surrounded by
the darkness of the Cross. One theologian has said that “people who bear
crosses are working with the grain of the universe.” But I might add that they
also are working against the grain of the world. Things like fear, ego, and
greed will push back against our best efforts to follow the lamb while we live
amidst wolves. And so we will need nourishment for the journey.
I don’t at all mean this
to be condescending, but I can’t imagine being a part of a church that doesn’t
regularly celebrate the Holy Eucharist (and once a quarter doesn’t qualify as
“regular”). The Eucharist isn’t just us saying things that we believe to be
ultimately true, it is us acting it out. The Eucharist is us coming to the
throne and singing praise to the Lamb. It is us putting stock not in our words
or actions, but God’s. The Eucharist is about the proclamation that love is
stronger than evil, that life overcomes death, that there is always room for
all to gather around the Table.
As Revelation points out,
those gathered before the throne are a “great multitude that no one could count
from every nation, tribe, people, and language.” When we gather around the
Altar, we take part in that great multitude. People of every sort will be found
in the flock of the Good Shepherd. This is why diversity in churches is so
important, and we sorely need more of it. The Eucharist also expresses God’s
abundance. There is enough space for all to gather around God’s throne. And
though the world may know famine, there is always enough bread at the table.
Though there is much to mourn in this world, there is always wine to celebrate
with.
The Eucharist unites us
to that celebration around the throne and gives us strength even while we are
in the midst of ordeals. The Eucharist binds us to the Lamb’s victory and
peace. We need these reminders, we need this nourishment, we need the Eucharist
to reorient our vision toward God’s victory as we live in a world that knows
evil and division. It’s why Eucharist once a quarter just wouldn’t do it for
me. It’s why regular church attendance is so important – your being here isn’t
about inflating my ego as being the priest of a growing church, it isn’t about
you being here to put money in the offering plate, it isn’t about you getting
to see your friends. That’s not to say that church growth, stewardship, or
friendship are bad things, but we come Sunday after Sunday to praise the Lamb.
To be washed in the blood of the Lamb. To be fed at God’s Table. To find a balm
to bind up our wounds. To draw closer to God’s presence in the Body of Christ –
meaning both in our brothers and sisters in faith and in the Sacrament of Gods
abiding presence. To give us a vision of the love, hope, healing, and peace
that come from the victory of Jesus’ Resurrection.
Indeed, Easter was a
grand celebration, as it should be. Much of life though might be seen as living
through a “great ordeal.” Today’s reading from Revelation reveals to us that God
is always, always with us. We’ll soon celebrate the Holy Eucharist, that magnificent
victory feast where we join with that great multitude which no one can number
in praising the Lamb and encountering God’s abiding and saving love. Let our
shout, this and every day, be the proclamation that “Alleluia, Christ our
Passover is sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast. Alleluia.”
