I’ve spent all week trying to figure out an introduction for this last sermon of mine at Christ’s Episcopal Church. I toyed with some pop culture references to Apocalypse that would have led to the book that in some circles is called the Apocalypse of John. At one point, you were going to get a lesson in English history. You may all breathe a sigh of relief. How can any words of mine can be adequate for this bittersweet day? How can any words of mine can adequately express both the sadness of my leaving and the hopefulness represented by these eight men and women. Blessedly, there is always the Word of God who speaks through the words of the Bible. And the word that we all need to hear, again and again, until our hearts absorb it and we believe it, comes from a book that is best known, not for its hopefulness, but for its gruesomeness.
Anyone who has spent some time actually sitting down and reading this book knows how gruesome its images are, and what a really good horror movie it would make. When all the bishops of the church met in Nicaea in year 325 A.D., and came up with the Nicene Creed that we say every Sunday, they also decided which of the many books out there about Jesus would be in the New Testament and which would not. And as tradition has it, Revelation almost didn't make it. Many of the bishops were as repelled by its gruesomeness as many Christians are today. Of course it's very gruesomeness is what attracts others to this book. If you are tired of this broken, and sinful world, this book would seem to be for you. If the God you worshiped was a god of vengence and destruction, this book would seem to be for you. If all you wanted was vindication, to be proven that you were right, then the visions of all God's enemies being utterly anhilated would seem to be for you. If you wanted a blueprint for the future, then this book gives you lots of clues and rabbit holes to dig into. If you were ready to die, then this book which seems to be focused so much on death and destruction would seem to be for you.
But here at the end, in the 21st of 22 chapters, this is not what we hear of God this morning. We do not hear our God speaking of destruction. We do not hear our God speaking of endings. This morning our God does not say — Look! I’m destroying all things. This morning our God does not say — Look! I’m bringing everything to an end. This morning our God says — Look! I'm making all things new. That is what God said to this world 2000 years ago. And that is what God says to this world today — Look! I'm making all things new. The book of Revelation is not about the end of the world. It is about the beginning of the world as God first made it to be. And this ending and beginning is not a one-time thing. It is a process of endings and beginnings. It was a process going on when John received these visions. This process of endings and beginnings goes on today. And on this day of endings and beginnings at Christ’s Episcopal Church in Albertville, in that process is our hope.
Last week, I tried to show how much of the violent imagery of Revelation made sense if you knew your Old Testament and applied its symbols of the ancient Babylonian empire to the Roman Empire. I reminded you that the author of Revelation, John, had been exiled by the Roman authorities to the deserted island of Patmos, where anything he wrote would be read by his captors. So he had to use coded language in this letter to the seven churches in Asia, language that might seem strange to a Roman censor with no knowledge of the Old Testament, but harmless. Much of Revelation is John preparing his fellow Christians for the coming confrontation with a Roman state whose emperor claimed to be a god, and who would execute anyone refusing to acknowledge his “divinity.”
Throughout this symbolic confrontation with the empires of man, there have been seven seals broken, seven trumpets sounded, seven bowls of plagues poured out. There have been beasts and there have been antichrists. But for all the speculation that this book has inspired about the end of the world, what’s most interesting is how the end never comes, no matter how many plagues, disasters and wars. The point of this Revelation of God to John is not about God’s anger, but God’s patience and willingness to wait for the human race to repent, to change their hearts and lives, and be saved. But now, at the end of this Revelation, we do see a vision of what is to come, something beyond any nation or man-made empire — Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.
Okay, at first glance that sounds like this first world is being destroyed. But then the One seated on the throne that governs all things created says — Look! I’m making all things new. What is passing away are not the things themselves but those weaknesses and failings that make them less than what God created them to be. God has no intention of destroying all things, but of making them like his only Son, the Lamb who was slaughtered, but who rose from the dead and lives the never ending life of Resurrection. Yes, the former earth and former heaven must pass away. For how else will the holy city, New Jerusalem, come down to us. And how else will God’s dwelling be with humankind, unless the former earth and former heaven pass away so that earth and heaven can be one?
When the One seated on the throne that governs all things says — Look! I’m making all things new, it means that all things are being made new, in John’s time and in ours. And whatever is ending is only the next stage in our being made new. And that’s how all this vision stuff becomes real on this Sunday, for me and for you, Christ’s Episcopal Church in Albertville. The old heaven, which we glimpsed in that little gray church has passed away. But it has been made new; it has begun again. And when, someday, this piece of heaven passes away, it too shall be made new, a new beginning. Many of its people have come to a physical end. But in the prayers of those saints of Christ Church Albertville who have gone before us, they have been made new, a new beginning. In the eight people who are committing themselves to this church, you all will be made new by the gifts that they bring to you as your newest brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ. They are a new beginning for this parish.
On this day my time here comes to an end. I have been made new in my four years here. Hopefully, my weaknesses and failings are passing away in what I have learned from you all. And the One seated on the throne that governs all things is making me new. I don’t know yet where that will be. But the same God whose patience and love covered seven seals and seven trumpets and seven bowls will make good his calling of me.
But here at the end, in the 21st of 22 chapters, this is not what we hear of God this morning. We do not hear our God speaking of destruction. We do not hear our God speaking of endings. This morning our God does not say — Look! I’m destroying all things. This morning our God does not say — Look! I’m bringing everything to an end. This morning our God says — Look! I'm making all things new. That is what God said to this world 2000 years ago. And that is what God says to this world today — Look! I'm making all things new. The book of Revelation is not about the end of the world. It is about the beginning of the world as God first made it to be. And this ending and beginning is not a one-time thing. It is a process of endings and beginnings. It was a process going on when John received these visions. This process of endings and beginnings goes on today. And on this day of endings and beginnings at Christ’s Episcopal Church in Albertville, in that process is our hope.
Last week, I tried to show how much of the violent imagery of Revelation made sense if you knew your Old Testament and applied its symbols of the ancient Babylonian empire to the Roman Empire. I reminded you that the author of Revelation, John, had been exiled by the Roman authorities to the deserted island of Patmos, where anything he wrote would be read by his captors. So he had to use coded language in this letter to the seven churches in Asia, language that might seem strange to a Roman censor with no knowledge of the Old Testament, but harmless. Much of Revelation is John preparing his fellow Christians for the coming confrontation with a Roman state whose emperor claimed to be a god, and who would execute anyone refusing to acknowledge his “divinity.”
Throughout this symbolic confrontation with the empires of man, there have been seven seals broken, seven trumpets sounded, seven bowls of plagues poured out. There have been beasts and there have been antichrists. But for all the speculation that this book has inspired about the end of the world, what’s most interesting is how the end never comes, no matter how many plagues, disasters and wars. The point of this Revelation of God to John is not about God’s anger, but God’s patience and willingness to wait for the human race to repent, to change their hearts and lives, and be saved. But now, at the end of this Revelation, we do see a vision of what is to come, something beyond any nation or man-made empire — Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.
Okay, at first glance that sounds like this first world is being destroyed. But then the One seated on the throne that governs all things created says — Look! I’m making all things new. What is passing away are not the things themselves but those weaknesses and failings that make them less than what God created them to be. God has no intention of destroying all things, but of making them like his only Son, the Lamb who was slaughtered, but who rose from the dead and lives the never ending life of Resurrection. Yes, the former earth and former heaven must pass away. For how else will the holy city, New Jerusalem, come down to us. And how else will God’s dwelling be with humankind, unless the former earth and former heaven pass away so that earth and heaven can be one?
When the One seated on the throne that governs all things says — Look! I’m making all things new, it means that all things are being made new, in John’s time and in ours. And whatever is ending is only the next stage in our being made new. And that’s how all this vision stuff becomes real on this Sunday, for me and for you, Christ’s Episcopal Church in Albertville. The old heaven, which we glimpsed in that little gray church has passed away. But it has been made new; it has begun again. And when, someday, this piece of heaven passes away, it too shall be made new, a new beginning. Many of its people have come to a physical end. But in the prayers of those saints of Christ Church Albertville who have gone before us, they have been made new, a new beginning. In the eight people who are committing themselves to this church, you all will be made new by the gifts that they bring to you as your newest brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ. They are a new beginning for this parish.
On this day my time here comes to an end. I have been made new in my four years here. Hopefully, my weaknesses and failings are passing away in what I have learned from you all. And the One seated on the throne that governs all things is making me new. I don’t know yet where that will be. But the same God whose patience and love covered seven seals and seven trumpets and seven bowls will make good his calling of me.
Do not fear the passing away of the former things. Do not fear the endings. As the One seated on the throne said to John, so he says to you today, look for those things that are being made new. It’s alright to look back at what has passed away, but don’t stare. Look back, reflect on what has happened. Then look ahead. For as it was 2,000 years ago, so it is now and so it shall be until earth and heaven are one — I’m making all things new.
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