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,
Revelation 21:1-6
“See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them and be their God;
he 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.” Also he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.
My sermon from the Fifth Sunday of Easter (May 18, 2025) on Revelation 21:1-6.
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Last Monday, the NJ Synod Candidacy Committee had its Spring meeting. And as the candidacy coordinator for NJ, it’s our responsibility to work with people wondering if being an ordained deacon or pastor is one of God’s calling for their lives. The work to become ordained involves a lot of prayer, conversation, paperwork, education, and growth as they navigate the various requirements to be this kind of leader in the church. It can sound as if we want people to jump through a bunch of hoops before they put a stole around their neck. The process, though, is much more intentional as we discern, together, if their following Jesus involves developing the robust theological and practical skills needed to serve in this particular way. At the moment, each candidate goes through an individually designed process meeting their needs. And while there are many different flavors of Christianity full of strong and faithful leaders, we want to make sure to raise up pastors and deacons who are awesome Lutheran Christians. Knowing the Bible, listening to Jesus, staying connected to the Spirit, and living in love – that’s at the core of every Christian life. Yet today’s reading from the book of Revelation can help us see how the distinctive Lutheran emphasis on God’s work rather than our own helps us live into the fullness of who God chooses to be.
Now like I said last week, Revelation is a graphic novel. Its author, John of Patmos, received a vision from God that he then described to seven churches in what is now modern-day Turkey. The words he used painted pictures in the minds of those who needed to be challenged, inspired, and filled with hope. It’s focus on soldiers, horse riders, beasts, dragons, queens, and kings, can make Revelation seem like something out of The Lord of the Rings. But those who first heard these words recognized how they described the political, economic, and cultural realities of their day. We last saw John taking a break from watching the moon turn into blood by visiting God’s heavenly throne room. And it was there, at the center of it all, he – we – met a lamb who was slain. That space was filled with the divine beings we’d expect – angels, archangels, and all kinds of mystical creatures. Yet the crowd John focused on was a multitude of people wearing their baptismal garments. It wasn’t generals, ministers, commentators, and PR people who were at the foot of God. Instead, those around the throne were from everywhere and spoke every language. This throne room, on one level, is a picture of what it’s like to dwell with God. And we can see how it’s exactly as peaceful, joyful, overwhelming, and awe inspiring we’d expect. But where, and how, that experience comes into being in our own lives can be a little tricky to figure out. We assume that such a blessing must be a gift from God that’s inserted into our life. It’s difficult, though, to accept that this gift is something we’re given rather than something we have to earn for ourselves. There were, for example, quite a few chapters from the throne room in chapter 7 to this passage in chapter 21. And if we took the time to read all those verses, we see all kinds of people doing all kinds of things while dragons with seven heads and ten horns, broken seals, bowls of wrath, and even Armageddon rage across the world. All that doing – and the ordeal people went through – would easily fit into who we’d expect to find around God’s heavenly throne. This view also matches what we assume life is all about since what we do – or what others claim we do – is the cover we use to proclaim who has value and who doesn’t. All this doing bleeds into our experience of what it means to be the church together since we are the ones in worship, prayer, song, service, welcome, inclusion, and in this community – are doing a lot to create what this community of faith is meant to be about. Saying “we believe” while living a life that doesn’t look much different from not following Jesus at all isn’t, necessarily, holy and true. Yet a faith rooted in what we do is also a faith limiting who our God chooses to be.
And we know that’s true because life is full of moments when doing isn’t possible. We can, for example, be at the start of life – still learning that our loved ones don’t disappear when they cover their eyes during peekaboo. Or maybe we’ve gotten to the point where our bodies and minds have started to slow down and the question “why am I still here?” is less a search for purpose and more a heart wrenching prayer. Our love of doing might try to pretend as if God only cares about certain moments in our lives. But when we act as if God only cares about those slivers, we ignore how God chose to live a life where even Jesus, at times, couldn’t do. That might be why, near the end of Revelation, John painted for us an image that doesn’t depend on what we do at all. Rather than inviting us to see one room God built; we get to witness the entire city of God. The image we make in our heads for this heavenly city probably resembles the cities we build with our machines and our hands. God’s city, though, is entirely different since the cosmos – the heavens and the earth – have become new. What John witnessed could only be best described by poets, artists, musicians, and comic book creators. And that’s because what’s painted was more than a place; it’s the future God chooses to create. The creator of this universe who is fully divine, fully present, and who will always be – wants you to be part of that future too. This image of the heavenly city, though, isn’t only about what comes next. It’s also a reminder how dwelling with us is what our God always does. From the act of creation itself; to the Exodus out of Egypt; to the Holy of Holies in the Temple in Jerusalem; to Jesus’ birth, ministry, life, and beyond; and to the ongoing gift of the Holy Spirit – it’s the work of God choosing to be that always changes everything. We do have a responsibility to love, serve, and live as if Jesus truly matters. But it’s not up to us to determine where God dwells. The love God has for you isn’t something you earn nor can be something you, at every moment of your life, easily choose. It is, instead, a gift given to you because that’s simply who God chooses to be. And that, I think, is one of our Lutheran nuances when it comes to the Christian faith. We keep ourselves focused on what God chooses to do because the good news of Jesus cannot apply to only one kind of person or to one specific moment in our lives. The gospel really is that because of Jesus – every moment of your life is meaningful and has value. Now a faith centered in what we do feels fruitful, inspiring, and hopeful since it fills us with a sense of purpose and identity. But when we make faith centered on us rather than on what God had chosen – and continues to do – for you; we create a faith that isn’t big enough to meet us as an infant or carry us through illness and old age. The kingdom of God does not depend on us. It is, instead, an invitation to notice the vision God has for our world. And while life can be very full with joys and sorrows that change who we know ourselves to be, the Jesus in the throne room, the Jesus in the holy city, the Jesus in the manger, and the Jesus on the Cross has a hold on you – and he will never let you go.
Amen.