The Vision

A Sermon Preached by

The Rev. Paul Debenport

May 16, 2010

Let us be called to worship with the Word of God from John’s vision in

Revelation 21:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.  And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals.  God will dwell with them as their God; they will be God’s peoples, and God will be with them; God will wipe every tear from their eyes.  Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”  And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new…!” 

With this great vision before us, let us worship God. 

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“Without vision, the people perish,” the writer of Proverbs proclaims.  “When you’re in the trenches, you can’t see the horizon,” is a similar truism I find myself quoting fairly frequently.  Because most of us labor in the trenches of daily life most of the time, lest we perish, we must lift our heads and climb to higher ground, for the wider view, the big picture, the deepest truth—God’s will on earth as in heaven.  On this last Sunday of Eastertide, hear, now, more of John’s vision of God’s vision for heaven and earth in Revelation 21:

And in the spirit, the angel carried me away to a great, high mountain and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.  It has the glory of God and a radiance like a very rare jewel….  Then I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb.  And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb.  The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.  Its gates 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.  Then the angel showed me the river of water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city.  On either side of the river, is the tree of life with its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.  Nothing accursed will be found there any more.  But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him; they will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. 

And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the

Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.

The Word of the Lord.  Thanks be to God.

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          There’s a church in the Northeast with a stained-glass window problem.  High above the chancel, set in glass, is a picture of the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, descending from the clouds toward the earth.  But some of the church members want to replace the window, for, in their words, “It’s just too otherworldly.”[i]

          And they do have a point.  This world appears anything but holy.  With terrorists attacking us, two wars dragging on and on, a 40-year losing war on drugs, and an environmentally disastrous oil slick that’s also a visual metaphor of evil’s gushing gunk enveloping us, we’ve enough to deal with without longing after some make-believe town in the sky.  Perhaps like that stained-glass window, we should dump this vision from Revelation and stick to the darker glop of what most obvious here an now.

          But still, there’s something about this vision of the Holy City that grips us and won’t let us go.  Here God transports us out of the trenches up to the mountaintop to catch a glimpse of God’s world-wide construction project.   We are positioned in hard hats to witness the culmination of God’s plan for humanity.  We’ve ascended to gain perspective—God’s perspective.  Here we learn that through the action of God, the mountaintop vision and daily, earthly life will come together and be joined permanently![ii]

          Here the Holy City has settled upon the earth.  The eternal is established within the landscape of history.  And the images are striking.  Rivers, which have served throughout the Bible as obstacles to be crossed, are no longer barriers.  The tree of life that stood in the Genesis garden is found to be growing on both sides of a single river that flows from the throne of God.  No one is to be left out.  Kings and paupers, the exiles and the devastated have equal access.  There’s no death, no pain, no alienation, no war, no night.  There’s not even any church, as God’s presence is everywhere and God’s face is even seen by all.  The garden that was the beginning home of humankind is again a shared dwelling place where God and God’s people are together in mutual relationship.  The tree offers abundant fruit for every mouth in every month of the year.  The walled city’s gates, built to repel armies and aliens, are always open, always welcoming, always accessible, always safe.  There is diversity and abundance without division and limitation.  There is peace, shalom, at every level.  This is God’s vision expressed in the hymn Shall We Gather At the River, that I trust we’ll sing with fresh enthusiasm in a few moments.  This is God’s dream reflected, too, in composer Andre Thomas’ music for the poetry of Langston Hughes that our choirs will then proclaim powerfully, singing Hughes lyrics:

I dream a world where man

No other man will scorn,

Where love will bless the earth

And peace its paths adorn

I dream a world where all

Will know sweet freedom’s way,

Where greed no longer saps the soul

Nor avarice blights our day.

A world I dream where black or white,

Whatever race you be,

Will share the bounties of the earth

And every man is free,

Where wretchedness will hang its head

And joy, like a pearl,

 Attends the needs of all mankind-

Of such I dream, my world![iii]

          And what a wonderful dream it is, based on God’s vision in Revelation.  And it’s our dream, too, for it speaks to our deepest longings.  But is it just a pipe dream?  Is our faith nothing more than a mirage, that will never come, never come, never, ever come?  If so, then like the stained-glass window, shouldn’t we just wipe the stars out of our eyes and tear it down and settle for the hard reality of here and now?

          If it were just our dream, if it were just up to us humans, then, yes, we just as well get over it.

But it’s not just our dream and it’s not just up to us, though by God’s grace we can help move it forward.   It’s God’s dream, God’s vision, God’s will on earth as in heaven.  God is making and will make, all things new, even human hearts.  Even us.  God will and can do this.  How do we know this?  Because now, after Easter, we know what God can do.  After Easter, we know God can raise out of death and hatred and pain and prejudice, new life, new love, a new humanity, a new heaven and a new earth.

          Easter’s meaning is not just the good news of personal resurrection; that’s only part of its truth.  Easter also means nothing less than God has the power and will to overcome old chaos, massive evil, and humanity’s tenacious cruel streak, to make something new—a risen Christ and a new humanity, whose hearts are near to the heart of God, who’s vision is near to the vision and the will of God.  Bottom line, Easter’s good news is also God’s shout out through history, “See, I am making all things new!”

          Without this vision, made real and personal and powerful in the risen Christ, indeed the people perish.  With this vision, however, by God’s good grace and empowered by God’s Spirit, here in our city and in our time, we can and shall do our small but useful parts toward God’s new thing, the Holy City, God’s new heaven and new earth.

          Oh.  One last thing about that church with the stained-glass window problem that many complained was too “otherworldly?”  Well, they decided to keep the window after all.  Good theology and firm faith carried the day.  For in the midst of their wrangling, they discovered that through the years the glass had faded some, so that through the golden image of the new Jerusalem they could see the towers of their own town; one city, their city, seen through the vision of another.  Call it poetry, or a metaphor, or, as I see it, a sign from God, reminding them, and now us, that we are called to live in the world with the clear vision of God’s promises and will, judging injustice with hard truth, but taking hope through faith, and trusting the power of God that raised up Jesus, and who is making all things new!

Let us stand to sing with enthusiasm of this vision that flows from the throne of God.