Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A New Heaven And New Earth (By Committee)

"A New Heaven And New Earth (By Committee)"
Revelation 21:1-6


God was thinking the Long Range Planning Committee should get together.  God’s administrative assistant immediately began making the arrangements.  The archangel Michael was the first to show up.  He was always the first to show up for everything, overly punctual that he was.  As the head of God’s angelic armies he felt it his duty to not only be prompt, but be prompt early.

The archangel Gabriel (pronounce Ga bree el), or Gabby as most of the other angels called her, was another story.  She took being in charge of God’s postal service almost too seriously.  So serious, in fact, that she wouldn’t let any of the other messenger angels do their job.  Gabriel had to do it for them.  She was always worried that something would get messed up.  So, the best way to make sure it was done right was to do it all herself.  And to do something “right” was to do it her way, even if someone had a better idea.  At the end of the day she would collapse on her cloud exhausted.  “But at least there were no screw-ups,” she would always say to herself as she fell asleep.

Gabriel always told the story of when she let one of the trainee messenger angels take the message to Mary that she was supposed to give birth to the Savior.  Somehow the trainee got the destination wrong and headed off to tell some woman named Helga in Iceland that she was to be the mother of the Messiah.  Gabriel got a hold of the angel just before the fateful announcement was proclaimed, and saved the day.  Then she went to Nazareth and delivered the message herself.

Gabriel was supposed to be at the Long Range Planning Committee meeting, just in case there were any messages that needed to be coordinated.  But she was so scared to leave heaven’s central message office, or, because she was so busy delivering messages herself, she rarely showed up for the meetings.  At best, she’d be late.  Michael’s battle scarred halo brightened considerably when he saw Gabriel show up on time.

This Planning committee of God’s was quite a cross section.  God hand-picked them, which was the way God did everything.  There were angels of all ages and wing spans.  Even a couple of infant angels.  It was always disconcerting to the archangel Michael to hear these infants talking like adults.

But the strangest twist of all was that God had a couple of real, live human beings transported to heaven to sit in on the Long Range Planning Committee.  God seemed to think this was kind of fun and quite ingenious.  When the humans got taken back to earth they would tell everyone they were abducted by angels.  No one would believe them, of course, and God’s special plans would remain inviolate.  In this way, God used the human’s inclination of unbelief against themselves to keep secure the sacred plans.  The humans brought to heaven this time were named Floyd and Mabel.  These two were treated with great respect by the angels on the committee.

Suddenly, God appeared and called the meeting to order.  “Let us pray,” God said.  Some of the newer angels found this a bit disconcerting with God praying.  “If we are supposed to pray to God,” they thought, “then who does God pray to?”  The question was filling their spirits with unnecessary anxiety, when a sudden calm overwhelmed them, and they heard the Voice speak to their spirits, “Be still.”  All of heaven became hushed.  It seemed like just a moment and it seemed like an eternity.  Peace and calm reigned in the silence.

Then God spoke.  “It’s been a long time since I created the heavens and the earth,” God said.  “I’ve had a lot to deal with since that day.  It certainly hasn’t turned out as I hoped.”  The sadness in God’s Voice was not lost on any of the committee members.  “I keep thinking to myself, ‘If I did it over, how would I do it?’  I think it’s time to create a new heaven and new earth.”  Archangel Michael smiled.  “I am going to make the heavens and the earth disappear, and then I’m going to start all over again.  I have some ideas, but I thought I’d gather this committee together and see what your ideas might be for a new heaven and a new earth.”

Michael jumped right in.  Everyone else expected him to.  They were all staring at him, anyway, waiting for him to speak first.  It was his nature.  “Can we have an end to evil once and for all?” he asked wearily.  It was more of a statement than a question.  “I’m getting a little fatigued at constantly fighting the forces of wickedness.  I need a break.  Like for an eternity.”
God smiled, and said, “You have been the most valiant warrior against the darkness, Michael.  You will be happy to know your request is at the top of my plans.”  Then Michael smiled with relief.

“Does that mean there will be no more pain, no more crying, or suffering?” one of the baby angels asked, fluttering his tiny wings.
“That’s right, little one,” God said reassuringly.  Everyone applauded.

Everyone except Mabel, one of the humans.  She raised her hand meekly, and said, “Does that mean there will be no more joy, no more thrill, or happiness, or exhilaration either?  Does that mean no more tears of exhausted peace and anticipation when a mother gives birth to a new child?”  And here she looked over at the baby angel.  Mabel continued, “Will laughter really be fulfilling if it isn’t contrasted with times of sadness and crying anymore?  Won’t delight become meaningless at the same time you eliminate pain?”  Mabel asked her question honestly, sincerely, humbly.  No one really had an answer for her.

One of the angels on the committee finally broke the long silence.  “I’ve been watching the history of the world unfold, and I would suggest that if you recreate humans, you leave out feelings and just give them pure intelligence,” he said.
“I don’t agree with that,” said another.  “Feelings are what give people their humanity and personality.  Otherwise they would just be flat, unemotional creatures, as humorless as a rhinoceros.”
“But...” broke in the previous angel, “...it’s just that all the problems, and a lot of the hurt that humans experience seems to have to do with their feelings.  If people could just think instead of feel, it seems to me they would be a lot happier.”
The other angel shook her head in disagreement.  “There certainly has been a lot of human misery caused by intellectual egg-heads who had no heart,” she said.

“I have another idea,” a younger angel said, raising her hand and speaking at the same time.
“What’s that?” God asked with interest.
“I’d say, no more work.”
“Here, here,” a couple of others agreed.
“And why would you have me eliminate work?” God asked.
“Well, it seems to me work stunts human potential.  People get stuck in menial jobs just doing mostly the same thing day after day.  They don’t, or won’t take risks branching out.  Doing different things.  They end up using just a little bit of the brains and potential you gave them.  They stop seeing the big picture of what life is supposed to be.  They think their little area is the whole world.  They aren’t challenged to use their full creativity.  They think work is all there is and they get so tired from doing it, they forget how to play.  How to really enjoy the world you have given them.”  The angel paused, and then said, “Does that make sense?”  The rest of the committee members all nodded.
“It makes perfect sense,” God replied.  It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking about it.”
“Yes, I have,” the angel said shyly.

“I just have a simple request,” said one of the bigger angels.  “How about if you have no more locks or keys in the new world.”
Some of the other angels snickered.
“Well, I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” the big angel said, a little too loudly.  “I mean, think about it.  Think about what all the locks and keys in the world represent:  distrust; lack of respect; fear.  Why can’t the new world be made secure with the keys of trust and respect?”
“Sounds good to me,” God said.

“Uh, God?” Floyd, the other human at the meeting, spoke bashfully.
“What is it, Floyd?” God asked.
Getting down on his knees, because that is how Floyd was used to talking with God, Floyd said in a quiet voice, “I just had a question about something you said at the start.”
“Yes, go ahead,” God said reassuringly.
“Well, I don’t mean to pry, but didn’t you say you were going to make the heavens and the earth disappear?”
“Yes, that’s what I said,” God replied.
“Well, uh, does that mean, everything?”
“Yes.”
“But what will happen to all the beautiful places?”
“They will be gone.”
“Niagara Falls?”
“Gone.”
“Yosemite National Park?”
“Gone.”
“The giant redwoods and sequoias?”
“Gone.”
“Tropical rain forests, with the amazing array of plants and animals of every imaginable color?”
“Gone.”
“The Sahara Desert?”
“Gone.”
“Mt. Rainier, like when it makes it’s appearance from behind the cloud cover and takes your breath away?”
“Gone.”
“The Great Barrier Reef, it’s clown fish, sea horses, the green, tender anemone, sea stars, and manta rays?”
“Gone.”
“The frozen Tundra, with masses of caribou and moose?”
“Gone.”
“The African plains?”
“Gone.”
“The Swiss Alps?”
“Gone.”
“The bamboo forests of southeast Asia?”
“Gone.”
“The Oregon coast?”
“Gone.”
“The Grand Canyon?”
“Gone.”
“The Mediterranean Sea?”
“Gone.”
“Dirt?”
“Gone.”
“The stars, the moon, shooting stars?”
“Gone.”
“Blue sky, clouds, sunsets and sunrises?”
“Gone.”
“Hmmmmm,” Floyd paused with a deep breath.  “What about other stuff?”
“Like what?” God asked.”
“Like art, you know, like all the stuff in the Louvre?” Floyd said.
“Gone.”
“The Eiffel Tower?”
“Gone.”
“Castles on the Danube?”
“Gone.”
“The Great Pyramids?”
“Gone.”
“Cathedrals and stained glass windows?”
 “Gone.”
“Roses?”
“Gone.”
“The scent of carnations?”
“Gone.  Now just a minute, Floyd,” God motioned for him to stop his listing.  “You seem to be getting at something by asking about all these things.  Why are you asking about all this?  Are you trying to tell me you would miss all this stuff if I just suddenly whisked it away?”
“Well, uh, please excuse my boldness, I don’t mean any disrespect, my Lord,” Floyd said, still on his knees.  “But, umm, yes; yes I would.  I would miss it all.  I may be talking out of turn here. I know I don’t fit in with the rest of you, except Mabel here.  But I just think you have made an amazingly beautiful, diverse, wondrous world.  It seems a shame to think it will all be gone some day.  And sad.  Very sad.”

Archangel Michael spoke up.  “Do you mean to tell me, human, that you’d rather have this old world--this dirt bag full of corruption and filth?”
“I don’t mean, like I said to the Lord, to say this with any disrespect, Mr. Archangel, but, yes, I think I would.  I know there is a lot of bad things about the world.  But at the same time there is so much beauty.  Kind of like what Mabel, here, said a little while ago.  Sometimes, maybe most of the time, the beauty stands out because of the contrast with all the bad stuff.
“I’m an old man,” Floyd said after a pause.  “I haven’t even seen a speck of all the beauty there is to see.  And I wish there was some way I could get the chance to see every inch of it, from up in the stars to all the way down to the bottom of the ocean.
“Something you angels may not understand, and again I mean no disrespect, but we live so shortly, we humans.  We see so little.  We experience so little in those lifetimes.  I’ve gotten to see the Grand Canyon, and that when I was 82.  I’ve seen the Mississippi River.  I’ve seen Kansas and the western side of Missouri when I go visit my son.  But that’s about it.  The rest I see in pictures in the National Geographic.”  Floyd looked down at his knees.  “I’m talking too much,” Floyd said.  “I think I’ve said enough.  I’ll just sit back in my chair.”  Floyd got up off his knees and was heard to mutter something.

“What was that?” God asked.
“Huh?” Floyd said.
“I thought I heard you mutter something.”
“Oh, I just, uh, said, I guess it depends on what you replace the world with.”  Everyone turned and looked at God.

“Well,” God began, “I was thinking about a city.  Like a New Jerusalem.  A holy city that I would bring down out of heaven, whole and clean.  Spotless and pure.”  God beamed.  Everyone else beamed back.
Now it was Mabel’s turn.  She was not as humble as Floyd, and bit more outspoken.  “A city!?” she blurted out.
“Not just any city, Mabel,” Archangel Michael said.  “A city designed by God!”
“Hmmm; I never much liked cities,” Mabel muttered.
“What was that?” asked God.
“I just said I never much liked cities,” Mabel said more firmly.  “I grew up in the country.  I always like natural places.  Places with dirt and growing things; and pure, unpolluted water.  I guess I thought if you were going to make a new world it would be like, you know, a garden, or a prairie, or a forest.  With rolling hills, and awesome mountains.  Or a mountain valley.”
“Not a city?” God asked.
“Nope,” Mabel said quietly shaking her head back and forth.  “A bad idea.”  A couple of the younger angels gasped.  Nobody in heaven had ever told God he had a bad idea.  “I mean, you are God, after all,” Mabel continued.  “I will always love and obey you.  What ever you say, goes, with me.”  God knew that that was true, because Mabel had been that way her whole life.  That’s why she was sitting at the place she was.

God finally said, “I think that will be all for the moment.  I’ll get you together again some time soon.  I have much to think about.  Thank you for your good thoughts and ideas.”  And with that God disappeared.

In the amount of time shorter than a moment, God had become part of the wind blowing upon the face of the earth.  Now God was part of a gust blown hard against a Pacific coast cypress.  Then moved, and was a gentle breeze tousling a little girl’s hair on a school playground.  And then God was in a gale whipping up white caps on the Mediterranean Sea.  God moved in the wind, blowing and going to and fro upon the earth, looking at all that he had created, pondering the beauty and goodness of it all as he moved.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Wash Day

"Wash Day"
Revelation 7:9-17


It doesn’t take me long to get caught up in the pathos and poignancy of a congregation.  In the congregations I’ve served, some have lost a spouse to cancer.  Some have had to deal with the double loss of Alzheimer's.  Some have felt the slow, creeping destruction of ALS.  Some have felt the abject fear brought on by emphysema.  Some have experienced the end of a marriage.  Some have lost children in infancy, or as teenagers, or as adults.  Some have lost land or businesses.  Some have suffered physical, or emotional, or sexual abuse at the hands of parents, spouses, relatives or friends.  Some have faced addictions.  Some have faced cancer and are alive to tell about it--but still they are changed by it, physically and emotionally and spiritually.  None of us escapes life’s ordeals.  As Job lamented, “It’s human!  Mortals are born and bred for trouble, as certainly as sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7).

I mention all this not to sadden you.  I simply make the point that when you add all this up, the sum of it is one big sigh.  We are a people who have been through a lot in life.  And you can probably say, very justifiably so, “You don’t know the half of it!”  No one entirely knows what we have had to face.  There are similar experiences, but how we respond to those experiences, emotionally, differs widely.  No one entirely knows what it’s like to face what we’ve had to experience.  As someone once said, “There’s a lot more juice in a grapefruit than meets the eye.”

II

So it wouldn’t be difficult to make a case for the claim that life is an ordeal.  Life is, as the book of Revelation calls it, a tribulation.  I discovered that the word tribulation comes from a Latin word, “tribulum”.  A tribulum was a threshing board constructed with sharp points for rubbing and threshing grain.  So, going through a tribulation is literally feeling like your life is being rubbed between a bunch of sharp points.  That describes it pretty well, doesn’t it?

No one passes through life “unrubbed,” unscathed, unscarred, unblemished, and unhurt.  A couple of farmers were out in a field when a sudden summer storm came over.  A lightening strike hit very close to one of the old guys.  “How close did it come to you?” called the one to the other.
“I can’t rightly say,” drawled the other guy, brushing himself off.  “But my pipe wasn’t lit before.”

Life is like that -- suffering a lot of close calls.  And sometimes our pipes get lit.  No special persecution is necessary (as some think this part of Revelation is talking about), since we all face life as a great tribulation.  The painful, dragged out, and even horrific experiences we face in life get elevated to a higher level -- according to these verses -- if we call ourselves Christian.   Life becomes more of an ordeal for Christians because we have an inkling of what life was meant to be like vs. what it actually is, or has become, or promises to be in reality.

While going through the great ordeals in life, no one keeps their “robes” clean.  All, in the end need washing.  It is vitally important to see that, standing before the throne of the Lamb, is “...a huge crowd, too huge to count.”  “Everyone was there,” writes John.  More are “in” because of their life experiences than many “scare tactic Christians” would lead us to believe.  They say only 144,000 get in.  But this vision of John lets us know there are many brothers and sisters of all kinds and from all kinds of places who have faced life as an ordeal.  All, in the end, need their robes washed.

What that means is that the robes we wear -- the lives we have lived -- have gotten a little muddied.  Some are covered head-to-toe.  They are constantly down in the dirt trying to do something in life, but instead got done by life.  They were wrestling in the mud with circumstance. Their garments, good to begin with, had become sullied.   Purity and integrity got compromised, and a smudge appeared here, then there, then all over.  That’s how compromise goes.

And as I mentioned, there wasn’t one person who showed up in the multitude before the thrown who had a pure white garment when they arrived.  I’m wondering if anyone did, if they’d be allowed in.  It seems that one of the requirements for being allowed “in” at the throne, is that you’ve gotten smudged in the ordeal of life.  That your life is a mess, and it’s as clear as the dirt on your white garment.

To say that once caught in the rubbing of the “tribulum,” once experiencing some tribulation in life, once you’ve passed through all that into the protection mentioned at verse 15 -- what that means is that on this side of the tribulations in life, there is not a thorough protection against life.

To say that there will be no hunger or thirst on the other side of life’s ordeals means there are all kinds of unsatisfied needs we experience in the midst of living on this side of life.

To say that once past the “tribulums” there will be no scorching heat means that in the midst of life, now, there is the sun of many oppressions that will radiate down upon us.  And we’ll get burned by them.

To say that once through the trauma of living we will be led to “spring waters of Life” means that part of the ordeal on this side is the stagnancy of deterioration.

To promise that God will wipe away tears means that in the midst of being pushed and shoved by life, tears flow.  And that no one may genuinely care nor honor your tears while you cry out now.  Not so on the other side.

When my daughter, Kristin, was looking at colleges, one of the places she applied to and really wanted to attend was USC.  She was interested in their musical theatre program, which is one of the best in the country.

We made a campus visit after she had applied.  It’s a beautiful campus, south of downtown Los Angeles.  But it’s just about totally walled all the way around.  The reason for the wall is that it’s on the boarder of Watts.  You may remember back to 1965, you who are old enough, when the riots were going on in Watts.  Scenes were on every television at that time.  I was in junior high, and I remember the scenes of looting, rioting, fires and absolute chaos that were happening in that part of LA.

When Kristin and I did our campus visit, we drove around the area of Watts.  Kristin, unbeknownst to her at that time, would be doing some mission work in the projects of Watts from Azusa Pacific University, where she ended up attending.  (She didn’t get accepted at USC.)  I still remember that little driving tour.  Totally vacated lots, overgrown, and full of trash, as well as boxes where people lived.  Kristin was later to find out that those vacant lots were where buildings had once stood during the riots of 1965.  They were blown up, burned down, gutted, trashed, and just plain left to rot after that terrible time.  They were never rebuilt, or reclaimed.  They were just left as scars of an awful, tribulation kind of time in the history of that city and a people.

In the same way, the riots of our lives have torn down parts of our self that once stood for something, and housed something proud in our heritage.  But now they are empty spots, left by some tribulation, never rebuilt; we abandoned them only to collect the other garbage we throw in there.  We don’t try to cover it up or decorate it.  It is a huge stain on our white robes, and with those stains, with that whole empty, garbaged lot, we ALL enter God’s presence.

III

I would like to have the outlook that life is not all ordeal and tribulation.  That, only occasionally do we experience the rub of life.  It’s just that the abrasive times wizen and sober us.  But on the other hand, there is much about life that is worth shouting about.  There are victories to be celebrated.

John, the visionary of this book of Revelation, is a pastor.  He knows what people are going through.  He is feeling for them, and feeling with them.  His heart aches.  He knows they are asking questions like, “Where’s the hope for us in the midst of the ordeals we face?”

He has a couple of answers to those kinds of questions.  One of those answers is that hope lies in our worship.  Worship, for John, is the action by which we all, who have come with dirt on our robes and on our hands, can enjoy being in the presence of the Lamb, who has washed our robes and won the victory over our tribulations.  Worship is the practice of grace.  Grace is the expression of our joy, celebration and gratitude in the faith.  Celebrating that grace doesn’t just happen in John’s vision of the future, but in our vision of what’s going on right now with us.

That’s a part of the answer that John is encouraging the white robe wearing, uncountable multitude before the throne.  In reality, the description of this scene serves for John as a mini outline of the whole rest of the book of Revelation.  It is a vision of the victorious Christ, the triumphant worship (which is really the worship of the triumphant); and, then a symbolic retelling of the ordeal that leads to the triumph.

Worship, both now and in the future, keeps forcing us back to face the central reality that God is full of grace, that God is in charge, and that God (including all those who stand before the throne in their new white robes) will be the triumphant victors.

Worship is immersing ourselves in prayer and praise.  That is what the washing is all about -- prayer and praise and grace is the water that we pass through, so that God can clean our robes once and for all. Worship is listening to God, believing and having faith in this God of grace, shouting voice-to-voice with other tribulation-mates.  All of this helps us to discern meaning in the midst of a life of ordeal.  We don’t go through it alone.  Both now and in the end, we will not stand alone before the throne of grace.

A rookie parachuter jumped from the plane, only to find that his parachute won’t open!  As he helplessly is plunging toward earth, he sees a woman coming up.  “Do you know anything about parachutes?” he shouts frantically to her as they pass.
“No,” she shouts.  “Do you know anything about gas furnaces?”

We aren’t alone in the scary hard times we go through.  We aren’t alone in the smearing of our white robes.  And neither, because of our worship, and even in the midst of our worship, are we alone to celebrate God and God’s grace.

We don’t need God to tell us that the world is full of trouble.  But we do need God to give us the vision of the experience of victory and grace before the throne.  We do need to know from Christ the Lamb, that because of our experience of the worshipful grace, our troubles are not and will not be meaningless.




IV

But worship is just one part of John’s answer.  The other part -- because as I have mentioned that John is a pastor -- has to do with compassion.  Compassion and worship are what John sees in his vision that surrounds, or brackets our ordeals.  Evil, and the tribulation it creates, is not minimized by John.  It’s not made light of.  It’s not denied.  Those times of adversity and sorrow are taken very seriously by John.

But, as I have just said, John looks at life’s ordeals and brackets them between victorious worship of the Lamb, and the compassion of the Lamb.  Surrounding us on one side is the amazing worship, singing shoulder-to-shoulder with our fellow, worshipful survivors.  And then surrounding us on the other side is this amazing compassion that guides us to cool waters and dries tear-filled eyes.  Here is a picture of our Lord who takes our pains and our need for healing seriously, who honors our tears.

So, what this scene in Revelation does is to define the context of life’s ordeals.  That is, the anxieties, even the evils we face, even though they aren’t explained, they are nonetheless surrounded.  The tribulation we face is always pictured as episodes, not as final scenes.  The final scene, as John has remarkably shown us, always belongs to God, who washes our robes in worship and compassion.

Monday, April 15, 2013

The Lion And The Lamb

"The Lion And The Lamb"
Revelation 5



Ours is a political gospel.

Many of you may be bristling a bit about that statement.  At least a little edgy.  Or uncomfortable.

Think about the titles and roles we have for Jesus with which we are most comfortable:  Savior (certainly, we like that one--the one who saves us from our sin stained lives); Teacher (we like that one, too--the rabbi, the spinner of parables, the one who teaches us about how to live better lives, how to grow closer to God); Healer (we really like this one, especially when we are sick. We’ve been talking over the past month about this role of Jesus as healer in our Sunday School class, and what  we expect of Jesus when we aren’t well); Son Of God (this role and title we accept, but how the full divinity of Jesus fits with the full humanity of Jesus is a mystery to most, or how Jesus is fully God, but is called the Son of God--we accept all that but don’t understand it).

The roles we talk about least are equally as important, but much more volatile:  Lord and King (especially King).  When we say, “Jesus is Lord,” or, “Jesus is King” we don’t fully realize what we are saying.  If Jesus is Lord, who else can be Lord?  If Jesus is King, who else can be king?

A Lord, by definition, is a master.  A Lord has power and authority and influence.

A King, by definition, is the ultimate ruler.  The King is the most important leading person.  The king is the most important piece in the game of chess.  The King is the one who is superior over all and has the premier dominating position.

But what we are inclined to do, as followers of Jesus, is over-spiritualize Jesus’ titles and roles.  We quickly read over those parts in the Bible that point to his Kingship--a Kingship that extends into all areas of God’s world, including the political.

In order to understand this role and position of Jesus, we turn to the fifth chapter of Revelation for insight into Jesus as Lord and King.  This is the coronation chapter in the book of Revelation.  It is the coronation of the King.

The coronation involves a mysterious scroll and its seals.

All the events in the first four chapters of Revelation have served to heighten the intrigue and expectation and the fascination with what God is doing in the world as God moves our world to a total transformation.  The first four chapters have to do with churches and God’s truthful evaluation of what the churches are doing well, and what they aren’t doing so well.  God is clearly stating in these letters to the churches that he had expected to have his standard waving strong.  That expectation went unmet in many of the churches addressed.

Now, in chapter four and five, the scene shifts to the throne room of God.  There is a throne.  There is one seated on the throne whose presence is like the sparkle and color of precious gems.  There are 24 other thrones around the one throne.  There is lightning and thunder coming from the throne.  Prowling around the throne are four fierce animals.  The animals were covered with eyes.  And all are chanting, “Holy, Holy, Holy” to the one on the throne.

And there is a scroll.  It’s sealed tight, except that writing could be seen all over it.  No one sitting near the throne could tell what the writing on the scroll said.

I remember, when I was in older elementary grades, and on into junior high, I would watch with intrigue as girls passed notes in class.  I knew those notes must contain something important or fascinating.  But I never knew.  And sometimes, they would mouth words to each other across the classroom.  As much as I tried, I couldn’t read lips, and so never was able to decrypt those secret messages.  My curiosity was aroused to the point of giving me a headache.

So it was with all those gathered in heaven, around the throne, concerning this mysterious scroll with it’s writing and seals.  What did it say?  No one would know until it was opened first.

To open it, meant someone would have to first approach God on the throne and take it from the hand of God.

Who would dare take the scroll from God?  The person would have to prove themselves, “worthy.”  Notice, it doesn’t say, “able.”  It’s not a matter of ability.  Most, if not all of the angels, elders, beasts, and saints gathered around the throne of God would have been able to open the scroll and read its contents.

God looks not for the able but for the worthy, for such an honor to take the scroll.  All shrink back at that qualification.  None step forward.  John, the one who is relating this vision, weeps.  If we don’t weep, we should stop and take notice of what this scene is saying.

Think of all the great lives from biblical and world history, who through quality of life, who through brave and amazing accomplishments in all sorts of fields, whom we might esteem as worthy.  None of those, though, measure up to the gaze from the One on the throne.

In a far past issue of Life Magazine, there was a lead article about the “100 Most Influential Americans of the 20th Century.”  Some of those listed were, Muhammad Ali, Albert Einstein, the Wright brothers (a unanimous choice), Bing Crosby, Henry Ford (a unanimous choice), Will Rogers, Walt Disney, Ray Croc (founder of McDonalds), Abraham Lincoln, and Bill W. (AA founder).

As much as these people are influential, none of them would be found “worthy”.  Nor would any from world history.  Not Alexander the Great.  Not Leonardo DaVinci.  None of the Popes.  Not even Mother Theresa!

We aren’t as great as we think we are.  We judge ourselves and each other by what we are able to do, and who we are able to be.  But God judges worthiness.  Worthiness by God’s standards.  Especially when it comes to approaching the throne of God.  We certainly aren’t as worthy as we may think we are.

When it comes down to the final scene of history, all self-infatuation, all misguided hero worship, all acts of self-sacrifice and courage, all of it will be seen for what it is.  In its place will be burned the image of the one true God on the throne waiting for the approach of the only one worthy to open the mysterious scroll.  We are only worthy as we are in the one who is judged worthy, who can approach the throne of God.

Then comes the worthy One.  Then comes the Lion.  One of the Elders first sees the Lion.

The Old Testament uses the image of the lion for creating fear.  Lions hide in wait, they are devouring, powerful, roaring, growling.  Lions are destroyers, manglers, and bone-breakers.

The Elder sees the Lion as one who “has conquered.”  Conquered what?  We aren’t told.  Our first answers, in trying to over-spiritualize the Lion, might be things like sin and evil.  And that is true.  But what are the particulars of what that means.

Turning to 1 Corinthians 15 (vs.. 24-25), we read about Jesus,
Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power.  For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet.

The conquering Lion, the worthy one, has conquered rulers, those in authority, and those who hold the strings of power.  In fact, those three are considered, according to this verse, to be the enemies of the Lion.

Jesus as King, Jesus as the worthy one, Jesus as the conquering Lion is:
--not a friend of government, but is their enemy.  There are no favored nations.  Jesus is no patron saint of any country.  Even though, “In God We Trust” is on our money, it won’t protect us.
--not a friend of rulers, but their enemy.  Even if you put your right hand on the Bible to be inaugurated; even if the church has a place in your coronation; no matter how much political backing from the Tea Party you think you might have--all such rule is targeted for destruction by the Lion of God.
Queen Victoria of England once told her chaplain that she hoped Jesus’ second coming would occur during her reign. The chaplain wondered why.  The Queen explained, “So I can take my crown and lay it at his feet.”
All rulers will one day have to give up their rule willingly or watch it be destroyed and they with it.
--not a friend of power.  Jesus had been the victim of power at its worst.  Power quickly degenerates into abuse and seldom knows how to be powerfully compassionate.
By the time he was 23, Alexander the Great had conquered over half the civilized world.  One victim of his military abilities was Darius--a mighty Persian King wiped out by Alexander.  Having been humiliated by such a young punk, Darius fled to Egypt.  Once safe, Darius wrote to Alexander about his defeat, asking for some bargaining room.  Alexander was not pleased with the letter, and sent a quick, stinging reply, ending with the words, “In the meantime, whenever you shall have occasion to write Alexander, remember you write to him not only as a king, but as your king.”
Power only knows how to push its heal into the backs of those it overruns.  But some day, says Revelation, even someone like Alexander, in the height of his power, does not qualify as worthy before the throne.
--not a friend of authority, no matter how self-righteous the authority assumes itself to be.  That kind of authority never turns out to be the authority of God--the authority that leads with the Cross.
In the movie, “The Mission,” there are two Jesuit missionaries, forced into defending the work of their mission to a certain tribe in South America against colonization by Spain.  What are they supposed to do?  Do they fight?  Do they pray?  What kind of authority should these two priests use?  Both take different tactics: one prays; one fights.  Both die.  Neither authority works.

Based on the image of the conquering Lion, and coupling it with 1 Corinthians 15, we can sum up by asking ourselves several questions:
1.  When we say, “Jesus is King,” who are we saying is not king?
2.  When we say, “Jesus is our sole authority,” who or what are we saying is not our authority?
3.  When we say, “Jesus is the only power,” who or what gets excluded as an exerciser of power?

But now back to Revelation.  Something happens.  The Elder says, “Do not weep.  See the Lion..”  John looks up, but instead sees “...a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered…”

No bone-breaking lion.  Instead a broken Lamb.  Slaughtered.  It’s such a stark word.  Images of a savage death.  Not just a clean kill--a single bullet, a single deadly thrust of the sword.

Instead the word evokes the image of death upon death, being killed and killed again, overkill by butchery.  Not a single bullet, but hundreds of shots.  Not a single sword thrust, but hack upon hack, frenzied blow upon blow.  Not just being conquered, but utterly devastated.

What an alarming contrast!  The conquering Lion who overpowers all powers, and the slaughtered Lamb who appears overpowered in the worst way.  The same character, perceived differently.  Both are extreme opposites, yet both are true and neither can be diluted.  Both are harshly different, yet both are necessary to understanding the kingship of Christ:  the Lion who devours all forms of rule until that authority is totally embodied in him; and the bleeding, grotesque figure of the slaughtered Lamb who identifies with the wounded, broken people who have also been overrun by the powers of the world.

The Lion can’t be the king without having the wounded heart of the Lamb.  The Lamb can’t rule without the decisive and ultimate authority of the Lion.


We need Christ as King, because all forms of authority, government, and power are seriously tainted.  They are either overbearing, devouring lion-types with little or no heart, or, they are sheep that get run over time after time with no ultimate authority.

Maybe the reason that Jesus is kept out of state houses and other political capitols is not because Jesus is thought of as having nothing to do with the political realm, but that he has everything to do with the political realm.

It’s not that the two can’t be mixed (like oil and water), but that they are really highly explosive when mixed.

It’s not that Jesus is ineffectual--a political milquetoast--but that political people recognize that if Jesus really is King, how destructive that kingship is to their house of cards.

We in the church have sold out to the opposition by keeping Jesus less than who he really is--a King.  But not just a king, as if he were just one among many, but the one and only King!

We, as subjects of the King Jesus, must not fail to embrace Jesus our only King with all that that means.  Then, we must carry his banner out into a world that puts itself under the sovereignty of so much false authority, bringing our King face-to-face with that world.

When we do that, the more voices there will be who are added in praise to the true King.  We along with the great collection of people around the throne will fall down and worship the true King of heaven and earth: Holy, Holy, Holy...

Monday, April 1, 2013

Emptiness Filled By Emptiness

"Emptiness Filled By Emptiness"
John 20:1-18


My Lenten sermon series has been about being empty and being filled.  From the start, I’ve talked about how something already full can’t be filled.  It has to be emptied first.  Totally emptied.

Once emptied, then you are ready to be filled by Christ.  As those at the wedding at Cana found, when the wine totally ran out.  Emptiness doesn’t lead to despair and sadness.  Jesus used emptiness to lead to belief and faith.

Being emptied and then being filled by Christ leads, as Nicodemus found, to a more authentic self.

At the times when life has emptied our pitcher and we are feeling dejected, apathetic, or meaningless, like the woman at the well, along comes Jesus.  One conversation with Jesus fills with life and purpose.  Once Jesus fills us, we become those who are able to go forth and fill others who have been emptied.

Emptiness has the ability to stick us in one spot, like the infirm man by the pool of Bethesda.  We don’t want to get up.  We don’t want to move forward in life.  But Jesus comes and fills us--we are able to get to our feet with the Lord, and move out into a life we’ve never known.

Sometimes our emptiness tempts us to fill it with bad--even unGodly--choices.  Like the woman caught in adultery.  But somehow, even those bad choices bring us into Jesus’ presence.  Thrown at Jesus’ feet, humiliated, he stoops down to us, getting down to our level, so that we might rise up with him--forgiven, clean, restored, and challenged to make new and better choices.

What is amazing about the Easter story is that God meets emptiness with emptiness.  God fills us, fills the world, with emptiness.

First, God fills our emptiness with the empty cross.  I wondered for a long time why Jesus had to die--especially such a gruesome death.  Why couldn’t God just announce from the heavens, in some loud booming voice (or in an inner whisper) that we would all hear, that we were all saved?  Instead, Jesus was sent by God to die.  Why?

The book of Hebrews helped me out there, where in the second chapter it says,
We are people of flesh and blood.  That is why Jesus became one of us.  He died to destroy the devil, who had power over death.  But he also died to rescue all of us who live each day in fear of dying. (2:14-15)

One major piece of our human condition is living under the specter of death.  I’m not sure about the animals, but we humans are conscious of the fact that we are all going to die.  How we handle that fear of death will determine a lot about how we live.  The fear of death can and does create all kinds of neurosis, depression, and apathy.  But, if we aren’t afraid of death anymore, then it frees us up to live richer, more God-led lives.

There’s more to Christ’s death, says the writer of Hebrews.  With the fear of death comes evil.  So, God had to deal with evil also.  The only way to not just overcome the devil, but destroy him, is by the sacrificial death of Jesus.  The devil and evil had to be destroyed, and Jesus’ death was the way.  So, imagine what that does for the human courage of living each day with empowerment?  If you knew the power of evil was out of the way, and you didn’t have to be afraid of evil anymore, how would you then live?

With the empty cross, the death of Christ, the world is filled with a certain fearlessness about living.  The two main things we fear--death and evil--are taken care of by the empty cross.  Those two fears empty the world, empty the life and courage of the people of the world.  They empty our lives of vitality and strength and will.  But, with those two fears out of the way, the world becomes filled with amazing opportunity to live--to really live.  Filled by the empty Cross.

And lastly, God fills our empty world and empty lives with the empty tomb.  One of the main messages of the empty tomb is that there is more.  There is more to this life than just this life.  There is another realm of existence beyond death.  To know that, because of the Resurrection of Jesus, no matter how awful life becomes, there will be another day, another world, another life, eternal, beyond the pains and capriciousness of this world.

I just watched, again, the movie, Les Miserables this week.  In that movie, Fantine sings the song, “I Dreamed A Dream.”

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame...

...But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

The great good news of the Resurrection is that even though that may be your song, there is more.  There is another song, because of the empty tomb of Christ, that will be sung in Resurrection, that will restore your dreams.  Never will life “kill the dreams you dream” again, because of the filling power of the empty tomb.  Jesus’ empty tomb fills all empty lives, so that a new song will be sung, and dreams will be dreamed again.  That is the promise and the power of the empty tomb of Christ which fills an emptied people.