Rev. 7:9 After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude
that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing
before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and
were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice: "Salvation belongs to
our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb." 11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the
elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the
throne and worshiped God, 12
saying: "Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power
and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!" 13 Then one of the elders asked me,
"These in white robes--who are they, and where did they come from?" 14 I answered, "Sir, you
know." And he said, "These are they who have come out of the great
tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of
the Lamb. 15 Therefore,
"they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his
temple; and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. 16 'Never again will they hunger;
never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them,' nor any
scorching heat. 17 For the Lamb
at the center before the throne will be their shepherd; 'he will lead them to
springs of living water.' 'And God will wipe away every tear from their
eyes.'"
As I blog this on Thursday the
30th of November, the calendar on the wall says tomorrow is Halloween. Ah, the
child's favorite 'holiday,' with its promise of the mega load of candy.
Halloween really isn't Halloween, though. It's All Hallow's Eve--the liturgical
prelude to November 1st, All Saint's Day. NOT that I'm one of those Grinch-like
Christians who has a problem with trick-or-treating. My only point is that
there's more going on with the day than meets the eye.
Something
like that is at work in this Sunday's first reading, from John the Seer's
Revelation, chapter 7. First, a liturgical observation. Sunday itself is not
All Saint's Day. It is simply the 21st Sunday after Pentecost. But we and many
other congregations follow the long tradition of transferring the liturgical
celebration of All Saints to the first Sunday in November, creating an All
Saint's Sunday. In this way we ensure the celebration can be observed by more
than just those who live in religious communities.
Days like
this are so rich with themes for exploration. There is much more to discuss
than time in which to discuss it. For instance, I love the way the passage ends
in vs 17 with the "Head & Shoulder's" promise from God of
"no more tears:" 17 For the Lamb at the center before the throne will be
their shepherd; 'he will lead them to springs of living water.' 'And God will
wipe away every tear from their eyes.'" This echoes the sentiments of the prophet Isaiah from so many years
before: On this mountain the Lord will destroy the
shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; 8 he will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove his
people's disgrace from all the earth. The LORD has spoken. (Is 25:7-8).
Both are passages of VICTORY. They speak to the fact that in the end,
God wins... and death dies; cause for celebration indeed! This is the life of the world to come, that the
creeds talk about. It's also interesting to me that both the readings
specifically mention the idea of every tear being wiped away. This implies a
complete lack of sorrow. SOMEHOW, every regret... every misstep, every mistake,
every gaff, every loathsome memory we have of letting down friends, family,
ourselves, and God Almighty,... in short, everything that brings a tear to our
eye ... somehow... will be made right by God himself.
But
I am also taken with the first part of the reading from Revelation: After this I looked, and there before me
was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people
and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were
wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice
(vss 9-10). To be clear, John the Seer uniquely *SEES* something that
others don't. He sees a very present reality that is veiled to everyone else,
but REAL nonetheless; he sees the heavenly throne room with the 'Church
Triumphant' in worship--perfectly echoing the worship of the Church here on earth.
Those who are familiar with the modern Lutheran Liturgy's hymn of praise
"This is the Feast of Victory" will no doubt detect a resemblance in
what is 'cried out' by the great host arrayed in white of Revelation and the
lyrics of the hymn: "Salvation belongs
to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb." "Amen! Praise
and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God
for ever and ever. Amen!" (vss 10 & 12). Compare with the stanza: Blessing,
honor, glory, and might be to God and the Lamb forever, Amen. [note: for more similarities see Rev chapter 5]. The
point is that 2 very important truths are being reflected in the liturgy: #1
Those who have gone before us are not lost; they are safe and sound in the
presence of God, and #2 in the Eucharistic liturgy of the Church *we mystically join with *them in worship
and praise, creating a closeness that is unparalleled at any other time and
place.
These
are words of comfort that I often try to offer those in grief. While there is
nothing wrong with visiting a loved one's final resting place, in faith we are never
closer to them than when we are
gathered together around the holy table; where our worship here echoes the
worship in heaven; where angels, and
archangels, and all the company of heaven laud and magnify His glorious name
evermore singing Holy, holy, holy... and where the veil that separates us
from them is pierced, as heaven joins earth when Christ's body and blood are
mystically joined to the sacramental bread and wine.
John
the Seer looked and saw all of this (vs 9); he was blessed with a
heavenly vision. But in faith, WE TOO can look and see this as well. In faith,
we too can look and see a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation,
tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb.
In faith, we can look and see in that multitude... those we've
known and loved who are no longer with us. What if we're not 'sure' of their
salvation? What if we're not sure how 'strong' their faith was, or if they'd
been baptized, or if they'd accepted Jesus into their heart, or if they'd
prayed the sinner's prayer with enough fervor and sincerity? What then? I was
discussing this very topic with someone not long ago. When it comes right down to
it, who among any of us has "enough faith" to merit heaven? Who among
us ever gets 'wet enough' in baptism, or is sincere enough in asking Jesus to
come into our heart? When faith becomes a badge of merit, God's grace is no
longer in the picture. This is not a
road we want to go down. That multitude
that no one could count from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing
before the throne... are there because God is gracious and merciful, loving
and forgiving, and WANTS THEM THERE.
John
the Seer looked and saw them. This passage invites us to look and see them too.
Cheers,
T.M.
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