Easter 4C
The four living creatures. A great multitude clothed
in white, washed in the blood of the lamb.
Here is another of John’s fantastical visions from the book of
Revelation. As one who struggles with poetry and allusions and allegories, I
generally avoid the book of Revelation like the plague. But I’m guessing it’s
not to my benefit to avoid one of the books of the Bible, however confusing to
me. So, I sought help from a friend who
knows a lot more about Revelation than I do.
She helped me begin to understand, so today, we tackle John’s
Revelation.
John is describing a vision he had, a vision full of
references relevant to his time and place. Exact understanding is hard to know,
as interpretations about what the Revelation is really about has changed over
time and vary still today. One of the commonly accepted contexts involves this
Christian community’s view of the evil Roman Empire and its treatment of the
fledgling Christian community. But whatever the context then and whatever the
images used, this book describes a vision of the eternal, which is – eternal,
transcending time and space. The eternity of this holy vision is relevant
today, despite the fantastical visions and first century political context.
In his Revelation, there’s talk of beasts and lakes
of fire, and red horses, white horses, and the lamb. There is a great deal of
active worship of God and the lamb. And there are battles – lots of battles
between the characters, but at its core, the war between good and evil. In the
end, God wins. Love wins.
Today we hear
that “there was a great multitude that no
one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages,
standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm
branches in their hands.”
Earlier in John’s vision, the people numbered 144,000
which was symbolic for the whole known Jewish world. But here, a little later, there is a great
multitude that no one could count. Every
nation. All peoples. All tribes. All languages. All. This was
pretty radical, because there was a lot of the world that this community of
people knew was there, and knew wasn’t like them. Moreover, those others
persecuted them. But here, the Revelation is that All peoples are standing
before the Lamb. This is an early vision
of a radically inclusive loving God.
This great multitude is clothed in white, signifying
their clean and baptized nature, and they are holding palm branches. Palm branches are reminiscent of the
triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem, but it’s also a symbol of martyrdom.
If you see icons with someone holding a palm branch, that is an indication that
they were martyred. So here we have a great multitude from everywhere made
clean and martyred and standing before Jesus, the lamb.
John asks one of the elders, standing around the throne, who are these people, dressed in white? The elder responds that they have come out of the great ordeal. Earlier in Revelation, we hear that the great ordeal is quite an ordeal indeed, a great tribulation although what exactly it is, isn’t clear. And now, they stand with robes washed white in Christ’s sacrifice, with palm branches in hand. Given what palm branches signify, it must have been a very great tribulation, because they’re standing with the symbol of martyrdom.
They come to the throne to worship God, day and
night, and God will protect them. The
elder explains that they will hunger and thirst no more. And that Jesus, the lamb, will guide them to
springs of water and God will wipe away every tear. I don’t know what the exact
ordeal was, but I’m not sure it matters.
What this section tells us is that in the presence of the Holy, in that
eternal place, we will not be wanting for our basic needs – our food and
water. We will be shaded from the
harshness of the world, from heat and sun. And most comforting is that God will
wipe away our tears. This place that John sees is full of comfort and care for
all people and all nations.
This vision of John’s is of life eternal, at the end
of time when the great multitudes are in the presence of the Holy. He can see
into eternity, and what he sees is God wiping the tears of all people who’ve
been through the great ordeal. That sounds like a good place, and a relevant
vision today.
At the center of this worship is Jesus the lamb
sitting on the throne, the center of this heavenly peace. Jesus the lamb, who
in today’s reading is also described as the shepherd, which is fitting, with the other "Good Shepherd" readings for today.
It is Jesus the shepherd that will lead the multitudes
to springs of water. Jesus that will be
the way.
In the Gospel reading today, Jesus is trying to explain to the Jews surrounding him that despite what he says, they will not believe or understand because they are not his sheep. My sheep, Jesus continues, know my voice and they follow. This was a great analogy of the time because many different flocks would graze together, and when it was time to go home for the night, the shepherd would call, and the sheep who knew their shepherd’s voice, would come. Those who did not recognize the voice wouldn’t come, following some other voice.
We want to hear Jesus voice. We want to think we’d
recognize it, so we too could be led to refreshing streams, and have our tears
wiped away. But what if we don’t hear
it? Or what if we follow the wrong
voice? I think it goes back to John’s revelation.
Despite the battles between good and evil that are
envisioned in Revelation, in the end, there’s refreshing springs, no
thirst, infinite worship, and ultimate
comfort, with God wiping away tears. In
the end, love wins. When you’re
following a voice, and you’re not sure if it’s your shepherd, think about where
it’s leading you. Are you heading
towards a place of comfort and rest? Of
shade and cool? Where tears are wiped
away, and everyone is actively worshiping God?
Or if you continue following the voice, is there anger, and conflict.
Violence and hatred.
It is too easy to follow the wrong voice. The voice of power, prestige or
popularity. But sometimes it’s easier to
pick out the wrong voices when you imagine where the voice will ultimately lead
you. If it’s love and comfort for all people, you’re on the right track. Is the voice you’re following leading you to
a place where love wins?
The Revelation of John is a vision of the holy
eternity. It’s a place some describe as
a ‘thin place’, or a place where the distance between earth and heaven, between
this world and the holy is very thin, where the veil is so thin you can see
through, or maybe it’s pulled aside all together.
Where can you see eternity and come into contact with
the holy? I invite you to think about
that this week. Think about the holy,
the voices you’re following that are leading you there. Where do you catch a glimpse of the holy? Where are your thin places?
A thin place doesn’t need to be a wind-swept coast,
or staring out over the ocean, although it certainly can be. For example, I
have three places where I lose track of time, connect with the holy, and can
catch a glimpse of that place where all tears are wiped away. Not every time,
but enough that I notice. The first is in my kitchen. When my house is still, and I’m preparing a
meal, the world is at peace, and cares cease. I feel the presence of God and
have a glimpse of heaven. Time
disappears, and I chop. Occasionally, I’m struck by the nearness of God, of no
more hunger or thirst. Weird, huh? Maybe,
but I bet there’s something you do, or somewhere you go where you’re
transported, cares cease, and God is closer than you normally sense. I’d call that a holy time or a thin place.
Notice and relish those times and spaces.
The other place that feels like a thin place for me are
places I’m steeped in serving God’s people. In the past, working at an
orphanage in Africa, holding an inconsolable abused foster child, or working at
a food bank in Seattle. Now, it’s the community breakfast. God does wipe away
tears. The great multitude is there.
Many actively worship God, despite the great tribulation they’ve been through,
or maybe because of the great tribulation. I see Christ in the people being
served. They’ve definitely been through an ordeal, and occasionally, I sense
the immensity of the holy, right there.
I see these dirty and sad people as washed and clean in Christ. Renewed.
Restored. Forgiven. I sense eternity.
I believe this is why regularly connecting with others in service is so critical, and so compelling. It’s in that connection and in that service we see Christ. We see the holy and we see what eternity is like. Where those have been through an ordeal – whether it’s a homeless man, an orphaned child, or regular folk like us – where those who have been through the ordeal are washed clean, where there are refreshing streams and all tears are forever wiped away.
The other place where I experience that sense of the
eternal holy is in the Eucharist. When that bread is broken, I can sometimes
sense the light from the other side breaking through, where the gap between
heaven and earth is wafer thin.
So whether it’s in a still place or activity, a
hustling bustling time of service, or at the Holy Eucharist, pay attention to
those places where you sense the Holy, where you can see eternity. Seek your
thin place, and if you’re not sure where to go, follow the shepherd’s
voice.
The contemporary poet Sharlande Sledge writes about thin places.
“Thin places,” the Celts call this space,
Both seen and unseen,
Where the door between this
world
And the next is cracked open for
a moment
And the light is not all on the
other side.
God shaped space. Holy.
Amen.
Acts 9:36-43
Psalm 23
Revelation 7:9-17
John 10:22-30
