Revelation 22:7-21 – Jesus Is Coming: Look Busy

This final section of Revelation offers a concluding promise and admonition. It also expresses the deep longing of Christians for Christ’s return. If you’ve ever heard the word “Maranatha,” it means “Come, O Lord” (in Aramaic, the language that first century Jewish Christians commonly used). It’s the next-to-last closing sentiment that John offers at the end of his book, but this whole passage expresses Jesus’ promise that he is indeed coming soon. For people in the midst of struggle and persecution, it’s the hope that they clung to. And are we all that different? Granted, the level of suffering that most of us are dealing with is relatively minor compared to what some people are enduring and have endured. But let’s face it: the world is a harsh place. Even if we are only experiencing what is common to all people (death, illness, a bad turn of fortunes for ourselves or for those we love), things can be lousy enough. But if we have a particularly nasty encounter with sin (our own or someone else’s), then we’re even more aware of how bad things can be for life in this world. We watch for and celebrate the ways that God is present today, and how he intervenes to save us. But let’s face it: it’s not enough. We pray for people to be healed, and they die. Nations are wracked with war and natural disaster. Addictions and destructive behavior ruin lives. Prejudice, greed, and jealousy poison our relationships and our society. And that only scratches the surface! It’s wonderful to experience God’s love, but we’re looking forward to the time when that’s all the we know. As Christians, we know that it will only happen when Christ returns. So we plead for him to come and complete his redemptive work for us.

But we don’t pray “Maranatha” for that reason alone. We want Jesus to come back, because we love him. We want to see him face to face, and to be united with our Lord. Think of a time when one of your loved ones was away from home: perhaps on a business trip or to go away to school. Think of the military families who count the days until that special someone comes marching home again. This separation that we now have from Jesus is even more painful. Sure, we have the presence of the Holy Spirit, and we know that Jesus is with us, even if only two or three of us are gathered in his name. But it’s all provisional and partial. We will only know the fullness of peace and joy when Jesus returns.

So it’s a great reassurance to hear Jesus tell us repeatedly in this passage that he is coming soon. But it’s one of our faith’s greatest challenges to deal with the fact that Jesus’ version of “soon” isn’t quite the same as ours. It’s been nearly 2,000 years. That’s only considered a short period of time if you’re dealing with geology or biological evolution. Empires have come and gone. Entire new bodies of knowledge have emerged and become passé. Even the very languages that John wrote and spoke in are “dead.” So what’s so soon about “soon”? Theologians and Bible scholars have wrestled with this issue ever since, well, about the time that John wrote this. Here are a couple of the ideas that have been floated around.
1. God keeps time differently from us. A thousand years is like a day to him. It’s the sentiment that we find in 2 Peter 8-9. So we may complain about the delay, but that’s not the way God sees it.
2. Jesus has already come. His promise has already been fulfilled: just not in the way that we thought it would. Think of first-century Jewish hopes for the coming Messiah. We Christians generally believe that they had their own conception of what this coming would be like, and they couldn’t recognize Jesus because he didn’t match their expectations. According to this line of thought, Jesus has come in some sort of spiritual or existential way. There’s no additional “coming” that we should be waiting for.
3. We will each experience Jesus’ coming at the point of our death, when we leave this world and enter his presence. So for each of us, the time is “soon,” and none of know exactly when it will take place. But Jesus’ “coming” is for each of us as individuals; the world as we know it now will continue to go along as it has for millennia.
These are just a sampling of answers that people have offered for this question. Personally, none of them satisfy me. Sort of like eating rice cakes. We feel in our bones that things just aren’t concluded until Jesus comes into the world and, once and for all, takes care of business.

On a side note, I’ve heard it said that when Jesus does come, the three major Abrahamic religions will come together. The Jews are expecting the Messiah, so when Jesus comes they will say: “You’ve finally come!” We Christians, who are awaiting his second coming, will say, “We missed you! Thank you for returning!” As for the Muslims, not only do they believe that Jesus was a prophet (but not the Son of God), but they also believe that he will come again. They also believe that the last prophet is the most authoritative. And since Muhammed was the last prophet, that’s why they follow his revelation. But when Jesus comes, he will be the new prophet that they will follow. So these divisions that we get so worked up about will come to an end.

In verses 9-10, John succumbs to the same temptation he had in 19:10, and begins to worship the angel who has been guiding him. Once again, he is rebuked and reminded that God alone deserves our worship. This is a reminder for us that it’s easy for us to worship the wrong person or thing. In Jesus’ absence, we want to direct our devotion to someone or something that we can see. The fact that John does this for a second time reminds us that we never really overcome our temptations. We must continually be vigilant, and always be prepared for God’s corrective action.

The angel tells John not to seal up his book. The word he uses here is “biblon” in the Greek, which isn’t a book like the ones we have. That would have been called a codex in those days. “Biblon” is a scroll. He’s not supposed to seal it up because the predicted events are going to happen soon; we’ve already talked about this as a problem. Don’t stick it in the archives, don’t put it on the back burner. Always keep the promises and the warnings in front of you. Verse 11 tells John, in essence, that things are going to be what they are. The wicked will keep doing evil and the righteous will continue to do good. This isn’t a sense of fatalism (“nobody’s going to change”) but simply a recognition that, after all the warnings, encouragement, and discipline, no one is going to repent anymore. Things have reached their final status.

The second nut to crack in this passage, after our struggle with why Jesus hasn’t come yet, is the promise of reward in verse 12. This isn’t the first time that we’ve encountered some language in Revelation that sure sounds like works-righteousness. It gives the impression that we get into heaven if we do good things, and verse 15 sounds as though the evil-doers never stand a chance. Some of these evil-doers certainly are the nasty people of the world, like murderers. But what about “everyone who loves and practices falsehood”? Even if we don’t love it, we would be practicing falsehood if we said that we never practiced it. The idea that you are rewarded for doing good by going to heaven, and that you can’t get into heaven if you’ve done evil, contradicts the good news of the gospel that we find throughout the New Testament. So what are we supposed to do with this?

Verses 14 and 17 set us straight. We gain the right to enter the city (or heaven) by having our “robes” “washed.” In other words, to have our sins wiped away by the redeeming work of Christ. The gift of this life-giving water that we can drink and bathe in is completely free, and available for everyone who wants it. That certainly sounds more like the good news of the Christian message that we pin our hopes upon. We are only able to do good, and to turn away from doing evil, because of God’s regenerating Spirit within us. Through Christ, we are blessed by becoming who we are meant to be as God works in us.

A fitting way to end this study on Revelation is to reflect on the way that Jesus describes himself in verses 13 and 16. These are descriptions that we’ve run into already in the book, but it’s good to remember them once again.
Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End: Everything starts with Jesus (John 1:1-4, Colossians 1:16), and as we’re seeing in Revelation, it all moves toward him as the final goal and purpose.
Root and Offspring of David: Isaiah 11:1 calls Jesus the shoot that comes from the Root of Jesse, the royal family of Israel. He is the source and the final culmination of the leadership that God provides for his people.
Bright Morning Star: The one who heralds the glory of God that breaks into our lives, just as the morning star heralds the light of a new day.

Revelation 22:1-6 - Peace LIke a River

John’s vision of the heavenly city of Jerusalem, which began in the last chapter, continues now as he travels into the city and arrives at its very heart. There should be no surprise for us to discover what’s at the center of heaven: the throne of God. After all, ever since Chapter 4 we have seen visions of heaven with the throne as the focal point, surrounded by the living creatures, 24 elders, and so on. Until now, the throne was sorting floating out there by itself. I have to admit that in my mind’s eye the throne of God was this location that was surrounded by some gray, dark, neutral space all around its immediate vicinity. Now we find out that the throne is in the middle of a city! Was the city always there, but just wasn’t revealed to John for him to describe for us? Or is this something new, now that God has made his dwelling with men (21:3). I’d like to think that it’s a combination of the two. Yes, we are certainly looking for that time when we are directly in the presence of God. And we know that the heavenly city, where we will live, will at some point in the future make its appearance (21:10). But ever since the Lord became Emmanuel, we know that God is with us. He has already made his dwelling with us.

Sometimes we’re like John: we aren’t able to see God’s presence in the heart of our experiences. Or if we do, we don’t realize what it’s really all about. Far too many people worry about how God’s direct involvement in their lives would lead to condemnation or rejection. I suppose it’s natural and expected. When we have a healthy sense of our sinful condition, we know that we don’t deserve to be there. (An unhealthy attitude is one that makes us think that we can never be with God.) And with all the rather frightening descriptions of God’s wrath and discipline that we’ve encountered in Revelation, who could blame us for cowering in fear at the thought? This is one of our great challenges, and great opportunities. First, to see beyond the gray fog of our lives and realize that God is with us in all his glory. Not at the periphery, but at the very center of the “city” of our lives. Second, to know that it is a presence that brings blessing, healing, and peace. As John 3:17 (the verse right after the really famous one) puts it, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” Sure: we’ll experience challenges, struggles, and even difficult discipline. But the presence of God in our lives, as we are reconciled with Him through Christ’s saving work, is peace, healing, and joy.

John’s description of how God’s presence in the city blesses its people evokes images of the Garden of Eden, where God walked and interacted with Adam and Eve naturally and comfortably. First, of course, is the river of life that springs from the throne and runs down the main thoroughfare of New Jerusalem. Four rivers flowed from the center of Eden: rivers that were major waterways in the ancient Near East. The image that comes to my mind here is of Dutch towns with canals in the middle of the street. Jesus described himself as the one who supplies living water, water of life (John 4:13-14, 7:37-38). And water is a common image of life-giving in the Old Testament. It’s only natural, of course. In an arid place like the Holy Land, water is a source of life. The river from the throne symbolizes our need for God’s life-giving presence in our lives in order for us to live, to thrive, to be what God wants for us.

We also hear about the tree of life. This was one of the two trees that was in the middle of the Garden of Eden. It was the source through which God’s life-giving presence made Eden the paradise that it was. (I can’t help but to think of the movie “Avatar,” and the way that the Tree of Souls united all of the life on Pandora. The tree of life isn’t quite like that, but if you’ve seen the movie you might have an idea about what it’s like.) The other tree was the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and it was the one that Adam and Eve weren’t supposed to eat from. Because they did, they got kicked out of Eden, which meant that they lost their connection with the Tree of Life. Now that Adam and Eve’s sin, which had been passed down to all of us their children, has been removed, we’re able to gather around the Tree of Life once more. It’s a tree that’s always in season. Have you ever tried to get watermelon in May, or corn on the cob in March? If you can find it, it’s probably so overly-preserved or frozen that it tastes like cardboard. But what about a tree that provides a different nourishing crop every month of the year? That sounds like something we could all enjoy. It’s a reminder also of our constant need for God’s grace to allow us to live and grown.

As the TV sales pitches go, Wait! There’s more! Not only does the Tree of Life provide year-round food, but even its leaves are valuable. The leaves are leaves of healing. Thing perhaps of teas or poultices that can be made from the leaves of certain shrubs or trees. This tree can heal us. The healing we’re talking about isn’t (or isn’t only) about physical ailments from cancer to the common cold. It heals our spirits. Far too many of us are far too wounded psychically from what we’ve experienced in this broken world of ours. Once we’re in the glorious presence of God, not only are we rescued from the things that damage us, but we find healing for our souls. There truly is a balm in Gilead. But as any good TV sales pitch would say, Don’t Stop There! You’ll get something even better! The leaves aren’t just for the healing of God’s people. They are for the healing of the nations. We cause so much damage by our divisions, and nations are the prime example. What “nations” are you part of, which define themselves by what they do, who they are, or what they value? Every time you’re part of a “nation,” you’re excluding those who aren’t part of it. And frequently opposing nations develop which compete and contend against each other. The tree of life heals us of all the damage and pain that our nations cause upon each other. Remember that the true Tree of Life is the cross of Calvary, upon which Jesus went to provide life for us all. And as Ephesians 2:11-18 explains, his work on the tree has removed all the barriers between the nations so that we can be united as we serve and celebrate in God’s presence.

Further, we hear that there is no need for any other light in the city, because God himself illuminates the town. Remember Psalm 119:105: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” We count on God now to light up the paths that we should take. But at times that illumination seems pretty dim, and we lose our way. Physical light is good; we need it to see and to get around. But the light that God supplies is also light for our souls: to illuminate the dark corners where we’re afraid that monsters lurk. To allow us to bask like sun worshipers with no fear of skin cancer. To see fully all that’s going on inside of us and around us.

We get to see God face to face. In the Old Testament we know that no one can see God and live. In 1 Corinthians 13 Paul predicts the time when we will see—and be seen—face to face. We will finally be able to understand the fullness of God. And when God looks directly upon use, we’ll be able to know ourselves as well.

Revelation 21:9-27 – Urban Planning

John now describes the new Jerusalem that he sees from the vantage point of a high mountain. The mountain isn’t named, but the best place to see today’s Jerusalem is the Mount of Olives. It’s odd that the arrival of the city is announced by one of the angels who poured out a bowl of God’s wrath in Chapter 16. There’s some sort of relationship between tremendous destruction and punishment on the one hand, and unbelievable blessing and joy on the other.

This is the third time that the people of God (or, the city of God) is described as a bride; we’ve seen it already in 19:7 and 21:2. Marriage is the fullest and most complete relationship that two people can have, and so it’s fitting for John to compare God’s relationship with us to that of a husband with his bride. In fact, many commentators on the Song of Songs (aka Song of Solomon) believe that this romantic expression of the love for a man and woman is a metaphor for the love between God and humanity. And this is the true and greatest of all the splendors of heaven: that God is fully united with his people. The entire arc of creation’s history seems to bend toward a reconciled love between God and us. I have to admit that it baffles me. Sure, we’re made in God’s image (Genesis 1), and we’re made a little lower than the angels (Psalm 8). But quite frankly, it’s hard for me to believe that God takes such great delight in me—or in anyone else for that matter. Maybe I’m just too much of a Calvinist: aware of how deep the stain of sin colors the human condition. I take to heart messages like the line in Amy Grant’s song “I Have Decided:” “The only good inside your heart is the good that Jesus brings.” Apparently there’s much more to the story. Yes, we are full of sin. But there is something about each of us that has led God to claim us as his children from before creation (Ephesians 1:4), and to go to such great lengths to reclaim us. There is an essence to us, to the way that God has made us, that fills him with delight and leads him to view us as precious. While humility and a healthy awareness of our sinfulness is appropriate, we need to be sure we don’t go too far in the other direction either. God delights in us the way that newlyweds do. And we do a disservice to Christ’s saving work if we think that we’re so undeserving that he shouldn’t have done it.

John describes the eternal paradise that awaits us as a city. Granted, it’s a precious city that’s encrusted with every conceivable gem. (We shouldn’t stop at the simple literal understanding of this, by the way. There are no earthly treasures that compare to the value that God places upon us. These descriptions are the best that John can do to express it.) But a city? There’s not many people who think of cities as paradise. We’d much rather dream about paradise being like the Garden of Eden, the original paradise. Most inspirational artwork has beautiful nature scenes: mountains and rivers and flowers and trees and birds and beaches. Not sidewalks and traffic lights and skyscrapers and buses! I’ll admit that I’m the first to imagine paradise as a beautiful wilderness, not an urban center. I feel so much closer to God in the beauty of nature and the grandeur of creation. But maybe that’s the point. As we live in this world of ours, filled as it is with corrupted and problematic relationships, heaven means getting away from them all and being alone with God. However, this is completely different from the fate for which we have been saved. Relationships are restored in heaven: not just between God and humanity, between each person. The Presbyterian Confession of 1967 develops this theme of reconciliation (see 2 Corinthians 5:18-19). The city of the New Jerusalem is more like a family reunion than a dangerous urban center. In fact, it’s even better than a family reunion: no creepy uncles or embarrassing cousins to deal with! Because we will have all been transformed by the work of Christ, we will be nothing but the wonderful treasures that God had in mind for us when he created us, and that fills him with such delight. No one will want to be alone, because of how delighted we’ll be to be together. When perfect relationships have been restored, nothing will be better than being together.

It also helps for us to bear in mind that the way we modern westerners think about cities and the countryside is very different how the ancients did, and how some people do today. A couple of years ago we had guests from Ghana visiting, and they were worried and amazed about an older woman who lived by herself in a relatively isolated house. For them, this was a perfect situation for bandits to take advantage of. They could attack her, and probably overcome her easily, and then rob her. For her, and for the rest of us, this was a strange concern, because we all think that her home is beautiful and that she is blessed to be surrounded by such beauty. Ancient people lived in towns for protection. Cities meant safety, and the wilderness meant danger. If we grasp this understanding, even if we don’t share it, we can understand that the people of God will be eager to enjoy the safety of the new Jerusalem, where there be room for everyone.

John watched as the angel measured the city. It’s a scene similar to John’s measuring of the temple in Revelation 11:1-2, but with a couple of important distinctions. First, the angel uses a golden rod instead of a reed to do the measuring. This is a more precious object being measured. And second, it’s the city and not the temple being measured. That raises to points. First, the temple has always been understood as the dwelling place of God. Now, however, we learn that the God lives in the entire city, with all of his people. He’s not cooped up in the Holy of Holies of the sanctuary. Everyone has access to him, directly, and is able to bask in the light of his love. The second point is closely related to the first. The angel needs to measure off an entire city, because that’s what it takes to fit in the family of God. You may recall that John measured the temple in Chapter 11 as a sanctuary for the people of God to escape from the forces of evil. Now, the sanctuary is simply massive!

There are several things to notice about this city of God, where the Lord and his people live together in perfect relationship with each other. First, it’s a massive cube, 12,000 stadia on each side. Twelve is the number of the people of God, and it’s multiplied by 1,000, which Revelation uses to express a massive number. The city measures about 1400 miles on each side. That’s roughly the distance from Pittsburgh to Denver: long, wide, and high! (For John’s audience, which never heard of Pittsburgh or Denver, it’s the distance from Jerusalem to Rome.) A city so massive hardly qualifies as a city at all. The proportions of God’s city are of the same unimaginable scale as his grace.

The city is incredibly precious, and a description of its building materials is like going through the precious gems exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. Some features, like gold, pearl, sapphires, and emeralds, are pretty well-known. But others, like chrysoprase and jacinth, seem pretty obscure. Why does John see these particular gems in his vision, and why is he so precise in describing the order in which they serve as foundations for the city? There are theories. First, the twelve stones may be a reminder of the high priest’s breastplate, which is described in Exodus 28:15-30. This important part of the priest’s attire was decorated with twelve precious stones, each of which represented one of the twelve tribes of Israel. It’s pretty much the same list of gems, if we take into account some confusion from translation between various languages. We already heard in verse 14 that the foundations of the city have the names of the twelve apostles on them, so it would be fitting if the materials of each foundation represent the twelve patriarchs. Remember the twenty-four elders that surround the throne of heaven; they are the patriarchs and apostles: the leaders of the united people of God. Our relationship with God is made possible because of Jesus’ atoning work, but it is built upon the work of saints and heroes of the faith who have come before us. There’s just one problem: John’s precisely detailed description of the order of the foundation-gems doesn’t quite march the order of the stones of the high priest’s breastplate. That may be significant, but perhaps we shouldn’t allow it to discredit the identification of the foundations with the patriarchs of Israel.

There’s a second meaning for the stones: twelve is not only the number of patriarchs, but it is also the number of signs in the zodiac. While first-century Christians looked to the heavens as the bottom view of God’s heaven, their pagan neighbors looked to the skies for astrological guidance. Just as each tribe of Israel was associated with a gem, so also were the signs of the zodiac (a little bit like the birthstones we have today). And guess what? The order of gems that make up the foundation of the new city are precisely the opposite of the order of gems for the zodiac-signs. As a symbol, the foundation of the city not only evokes recognition of the patriarchs, but it also demonstrates the undoing of pagan beliefs and practices

Amid all the other descriptive of the city, I’d like to focus on the fact that the city is built upon the foundations of the patriarchs and the apostles. While it is emphatically God’s doing, it comes through the work of people. God has made the patriarchs and apostles his partners in the work of salvation. But he doesn’t stop there. We are all part of his plan to build up a glorious city, and to populate it with the redeemed. It would be good for us first to recognize and to appreciate how others have been part of our faith experience that has brought us into the relationship with God that we have. And it would be good for us second to realize that we are the path that God uses to encounter others. Let’s make sure that we’re a clear path!

That is possible only because of God at work in us. On their own, the patriarchs were faulty and sometimes obscure,. By their own merits, they couldn’t lay the foundation for anything more impressive than an outhouse. Think of the character of these men. Ten of the patriarchs schemed together to get rid of the one that they were jealous of, even though it broke their father’s heard. One of them, Judah, slept with his daughter-in-law: but only because he thought she was a prostitute! (It’s hard to figure out if that makes things better or worse). And the apostles weren’t much better. As Mark describes them, they were a group of idiots who could never understand what Jesus was trying to tell them, no matter how plainly he explained it. John and James were so power-hungry that they fought over who would get the most honor in Jesus’ kingdom. Peter, their leader, proved to be nothing but bluff and false bravado at the moment of crisis. And the rest of them scurried into the woodwork like cockroaches under a searchlight. The lesson for us? We can mess up royally, but God will still use us for his work. Even a chipped and broken stone can be a good foundation, when God is the mason.

And some of these men were obscure. We hear about some of them relatively frequently, such as Judah, Reuben, and Benjamin among the patriarchs, and Peter, James and John among the apostles. But how about some of the others? Except for the times when their names show up on the group list, we hear practically nothing about them. Search your Bible, and you won’t learn about any of the deeds of Zebulun, or Issachar, or Naphtali. The names of apostles like James the son of Alpheus and Simon the Zealot only grace the pages of Scripture as part of lists of the Twelve. By our accounts, these men were obscure and insignificant. But not by God’s! They are each part of the foundation, the very core, of his work of salvation. Their significance may not be discernible to us, but God recognizes and honors their value.

This brings us back to the point I raised earlier. God cherishes and honors us, even when we fail to see anything worthwhile in ourselves. There is no insignificant deed that is done in God’s name (Matthew 10:42: not even giving someone a cup of water), and there is no one obscure in God’s eyes (Matthew 10:29-30: God keeps track of the sparrows, and we are worth so much more to him).

Revelation 21:1-8 – New and Improved

Finally, after a long description of God’s destruction of the forces of evil, we hear about what is in store for the people of God. The first word to latch onto in this description is “new.” The old heaven and earth are gone, and a new one comes. God makes everything new. So often, we think about Revelation as a description of the “end times.” The fancy term for this part of our theology is “eschatology,” which means literally the study of, well, the end. But the point to all of this isn’t how things will come to an end. We are looking forward to something new that is coming. Granted, the old stuff has to come to an end for the new to come. But our focus is on what is coming. C.S. Lewis did a nice job of capturing this in his novel “The Last Battle” at the end of his Chronicles of Narnia series. When the old Narnia is gone, Aslan’s followers enter into a new world are overwhelmed with delight of the wonders to explore in it.

When we hear about new that is coming, it’s great news. But so often, the old life weighs us down. We have obligations, duties, routines, expectations, things to worry about, matters to take care of, plans to follow through on. We have relationships that aren’t what we wish they could be. It all drags us down like weights on a runner. We can’t make progress because of all that entangles us and hinders us. Hebrews 12:1 urges us to throw it all off so that we can run the race with Jesus, but let’s face it. We can’t do it on our own. A fresh start sounds wonderful, but we don’t know how to make it happen, and we don’t have the ability to do it even if we did.

Yes, our passage speaks of a new heaven and a new earth. But it’s us that needs to be made new. Granted, there are a lot of problems in the world we have now, and the brokenness that we encounter in it prevents us from living fully in the new life. Romans 8:19-20 tells us that creation itself longs to be made new. But if God would plop us, as we are now, into a new and wonderful world, it wouldn’t take long for us to mess it up all over again. If we put ourselves into a new setting, the same old problems will be there because we bring them with us. Think of two examples. First, think about what happens when you go on vacation. It’s wonderful to get away from all the problems and hassles at home and enjoy new surroundings and relaxing or invigorating activities. But there’s a reason why most vacations are only a week or two long. After a while the newness and excitement wears off and the things from back home start to catch up with you. Family squabbles resurface. You find yourself doing some of the same things on vacation that you wanted to get away from: feeling obligations to do certain things, or fretting about situations back home that you wanted to escape. Vacation is great, but it’s only a short break. Second, consider someone in a troubled and broken marriage. She realizes that the problems she has with her husband are intractable, so she divorces him. After all, wasn’t he and the baggage of their marriage the source of her troubles? She develops a new relationship with someone else, only to find herself facing the same problems that she had in her first marriage. Why? Because she still has her own problems that she didn’t address, which infect the new relationship. It happens far more often than you may think! In fact, people who leave a failed relationship often seek a new partner who shares many of the same traits that the old partner had. The patterns of brokenness run that deep. The person herself must change in order to experience a healthy relationship.

The key for us, therefore, is for God to make us new. We need him to change us and transform us. And that’s the good news that we find in verse 5. God says (and by the way, this is the only thing in the entire book that God himself says) “I am making all things new.” He is not sitting around, waiting for the “end” to happen. He is at work, even now, to change us and re-create us. The good news is that we are not frozen in our old categories and situations. People truly can change! And as Ephesians 2:8 reminds us, this is not from ourselves, but is the gracious gift of God. This means several things for us. First, don’t lose hope and think that you or someone around you is doomed to deal with the situation you’re in now. There is always hope, as long as God is on his throne. We have an optimistic faith. Second, never give up on other people. There may be a curmudgeon in your life that makes you miserable, or a pain in the neck (or other parts of your body) that causes you endless aggravation or misery. It’s so easy for us to write off such people as hopeless. They’ll never change, we think. But that is never true! In the first few months of my pastoral ministry, God granted me the privilege of working with an old man who had spent his entire life being an intolerable neighbor and family member. But in the last three weeks of his life, he experienced a complete transformation and reconciled broken relationships. God can always make someone new. One of the most disturbing things that I heard about after the Columbine school shootings was an interview with a youth pastor from the town. He was talking about his interactions with Cassie Bernall, the young woman who said “yes” when the shooters asked her if she was a Christian. She had not always been a Christian. In fact, the youth pastor recalled how she attended some of his church’s events with friends. She was resistant to the gospel, and he considered her a “lost cause” and pretty much gave up on her. Fortunately, God didn’t, and she became involved in a different church where the gospel took root in her life. May the Lord spare us from the attitude of that youth pastor, that we would ever think that someone is a “lost cause.” There may be times that, for our own welfare, we must limit our interactions with some people. But God is always able to make someone new.

It happens because, in a word, “Immanuel.” God is with us. His presence is here with us people, and not simply up in some spiritual heavenly realm. Verse 3 proclaims the wonderful message: “The dwelling of God is with people, and he will live with them.” All the benefits of the new life come from this. Death, mourning, crying, and pain will all disappear as part of the old world, and God With Us wipes away our tears and embraces us as a husband tenderly and lovingly embraces his bride. At times, as we continue to live in the old broken world, God seems so distant from us. It’s hard to be devoted to him and to trust in his power to make things new when it’s so hard to be in touch with him. It’s a constant effort that we know as discipleship.

Jesus speaks to John in verse 6 and claims the same identity that we heard in Revelation 1:8. He is the Alpha and Omega (the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet): the beginning and the end. But to say that he is the beginning and the end is to say that he is everything in between. When he calls himself the Alpha and Omega, it’s exactly the same thing as someone saying that they know everything from A to Z. The vitamin pill that contains everything A to Zinc. The car company that has everything from the Altima to Z (the 370Z). And we’ll discuss further in Chapter 22 how he brings life-giving water (for now, refer to Isaiah 551 and John 4:10-14, 7:37-38).

He provides a promise for everyone who “overcomes.” It’s a reminder of the promises that ended each of the seven letters to the churches in Chapters 2 and 3. The Greek word used here is nike: the word for victory. In fact, the Greeks even had a god of victory, named Nike. And yes, in case you’re wondering, that’s where the shoe company gets its name. Wear our sneakers, and you’ll win. “Overcome” seems not to capture the active nature of being victorious or winning. When we become new, we conquer and vanquish the old ways of the world. And even more importantly, we prevail over the old and sinful parts of ourselves. Through the power of God that is present among us, we don’t need to sit in a corner and ache, waiting wistfully for things to change. We can rise up, be strong, and take courage.

Speaking of courage, notice the list of people who will not be included in glories of God’s new creation. This is one of several “vice lists” that we find in the New Testament, and for the most part it’s exactly what you’d expect. The sexually immoral, the murderers, the magicians, and so on. And yes, the liars, which should make us realize that dishonesty puts us in the same camp as adulterers and others who misuse the gift of sexuality. The real surprise, however, is the vice that tops the list: cowardice. Because it’s at the head of the list, we may assume that it is at least equal to the others, if not the worst of all. To be a coward is to fail to recognize and accept God’s presence and power. It is to give too much credit to the opposition: even after it has been totally annihilated! We overcome, or are victorious, when we watch for how God is making things new, and recognize how he is working through us. We win when we know that he is living with us and that he encompasses everything from A to Z.

Revelation 20:7-15 - The Day of Reckoning

If the beginning of this passage sounds familiar, it should. This is the third time in Revelation that we see the armies of the nations gathered together to attack the people of God. The first time was in 16:16: the famous “battle of Armageddon.” But this passage only says that they gather; it doesn’t tell us what happens or what they do. The second time is in 19:19-21. This time Satan and his followers are defeated, and Satan is thrown into the Abyss for a thousand years. Now we see it happen a third time. But this is the final, complete, and total defeat of Satan and the forces of evil. For reasons not entirely clear to us, the first defeat of Satan led to a thousand-year bondage (in my previous comments I suggested that this was his pre-trial imprisonment as the saints are raised and prepared for their role as co-judges with Jesus). We know all too well that while God is fully sovereign, evil is pernicious and doesn’t give up easily. So this is truly the final battle. Because Revelation doesn’t necessarily describe events in chronological order, it makes sense to understand this as the battle that follows the gathering of armies in 16:16.

The army that gathers against God and his people come from every nation. They are the ones who have been deceived by Satan. After all, why else would anyone attack God? Not only is he all-powerful, but he wants nothing but blessing and joy for all people (1 Timothy 2:4). It’s only by the devil’s trickery that anyone would want to oppose God. But let’s face it: all of us are deceived like this all the time. Hardly a day goes by that each one of us thinks that we know better than God, or that God isn’t really looking out for us, so we have to do it ourselves.

John tells us that the army comes from “Gog and Magog.” Don’t bother looking for these places on the map. They are mythical names that we read about in Ezekiel 38 and 39, to describe the evil and terrifying people who attack Israel. In Ezekiel’s day, Gog and Magog were the Babylonians. But the Babylonians were only the embodiment of Gog at that time. Gog is at work all the time, when people gather together to fight against God and his will. But the full expression of Gog and Magog will come in this final confrontation.

The first thing to notice is the universal and totalizing aspect of this event. It includes all people from across the globe. No one can sit back and watch without participating. There’s no such thing as abstaining or not participating. As the old song puts it, we will all have to answer the question: “Whose side are you leaning on?” You are either part of the army of the people that Satan has deceived, or you are in the camp of God’s beloved people. There will be no spectators or fence-sitters. The question for us is this: what does it take to be a member of God’s camp, and not one of the soldiers in Satan’s army? The answer is relatively simple. First, accept the love that God offers to us. And second: resist Satan’s deception. Cling to the truth that God provides. Satan is a wily snake, and his lies aren’t always easy to detect. In fact, the moment that you feel confident that you have him figured out is the moment when you’re in the greatest danger of getting sucked in.

The second thing to notice is how the defeat of Satan’s hordes is accomplished. There’s no call to arms for God’s people. There’s no dramatic battle, like Hollywood loves to provide as the climax in situations like this. Instead, there is a simple description of God’s fire coming down from heaven and destroying them all. This should come to us as no surprise; in Revelation we have repeatedly seen God destroy evil quickly, easily, and straightforwardly. It’s amazing to think of how much thought people put into dramatic confrontations between good and evil. God wins, and his victory is never in doubt. He doesn’t even have to break a sweat to make it happen. The “battle” ends with the final and eternal punishment of the Unholy Trinity: the dragon, sea beast, and land beast that we first met in Chapters 12 and 13. This time, there’s no such thing as putting them in a holding tank like the Abyss. And there’s no limit on the time that they must endure it. They go to an eternal torment. Satan, who has been deceiving people and leading us astray ever since he convinced Eve to eat the fruit, is removed forever.

After Satan’s doom, we learn about the final judgment of the people of the earth. In a sense, this what everything has been leading up to throughout the book of Revelation. All the way back in the letters to the seven churches in Chapters 2 and 3, we were told about the promise of glory for the faithful, and the doom of the wicked. In Chapter 5, the martyrs under the throne demanded the punishment of their tormentors. But this final day of reckoning isn’t just a feature of the book of Revelation: it’s a factor that runs deep in our faith. Perhaps Psalm 73 is the best expression of the final accounting that we’re hoping for. As the psalmist puts it, the lives of the faithful are full of struggles and difficulty, while the wicked appear to skate through life fat and happy. Where’s the justice? It’s a question that Job struggled with for chapter after chapter. It’s the question that prevents many people from coming to faith. As Rabbi Kushner puts it, why do bad things happen to good people? And conversely, why do good things happen to bad people? Remember: Revelation was originally written to believers who experienced first-hand the worst that the world can dish out. They were faithful, but they suffered. And they saw their persecutors living well. Where is the justice?

Our Christian hope consists of two aspects. First, we await the time when the prosperous evil-doers of Psalm 73 will get what they deserve. We, like the martyrs of Revelation 5, look for the time when those who have caused so much pain and suffering will get what’s coming to them. Second, and more importantly, we await the time when our faithfulness will be vindicated. We trust that God will bless our steadfastness in the midst of suffering and deception. In my opinion, this second aspect is the more important of the two. After all, we only read a couple of verses here that describe the torment of the wicked in the lake of fire and burning sulfur. But we get two entire chapters that describe the glories of the life in God’s eternal city. Our faith should focus more upon the goodness that God has in store for those who love him, and a bit less on blood-lust and vengeance.

Detractors to the faith may mock this hope as “pie in the sky in the sweet bye and bye,” or as “opiate for the masses.” And to be honest, our hope for God’s final judgment can be misused to encourage passivity in the face of injustice and evil. But the reality is that we really do expect the time will come when accounts will be settled. This gives us the courage to act now, and to endure what we know in our bones just isn’t right: whether it’s the prosperity of the wicked or good people being treated unfairly (whether by other people or by seemingly random circumstances).

John’s description of the final judgment is pretty straightforward. Jesus sits on the judgment seat, and all the dead are brought before him. The records of what everyone has done are opened, and they are assigned their fate for glory or doom accordingly. It’s a scene akin to the parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25. The record books are a reminder of Matthew 10:26-28, which tells us that everything we do in secret will be revealed. That which ha been concealed will be exposed and judged.

But there’s a problem with this description of the final day of reckoning: we will all be judged according to what we have done. But hasn’t Christ removed our sins, so that we won’t be judged by them? There’s no hint of God’s grace in the midst of this entire description of the final judgment. I don’t know about you, but grace is what I’m counting on when I appear before Christ’s judgment seat! I have plenty of self-condemnation over what I’ve done, and I dread to think of how God will treat me over it. However, if you look at the description of the judgment scene more closely, you’ll see the answer. Yes, the record books of what everyone has done are opened up. But there’s another book that is used at judgment: the book of life. This is the register of God’s chosen people: those who have been granted life through Christ’s atoning work. If your name is in the book of life, that trumps whatever can be found in the other books.

Revelation 20:1-6 – Free At Last

George Caird was a prominent Biblical scholar of a generation or two ago, and in his commentary on Revelation, he had this to say about Revelation 20: "We come now to a passage which, more than any other in the book, has been the paradise of cranks and fanatics on the one hand and literalists on the other." That’s a mouthful, considering the many other passages in this book that inspire so much speculation and excitement. So consider yourself fully warned!

At first glance, the passage seems pretty straightforward. Jesus defeated Satan in the end of Chapter 19. So now Satan goes to his doom. He’s chained up and tossed into the Abyss (the same Abyss from which the locust army came in Chapter 9). The Abyss is sealed up, and God’s faithful people join Jesus in his glory and authority. And that’s great news! The great deceiver has been locked away, evil has been defeated, and God has vindicated the people who were faithful to him through so much.

Well, yes and no. Yes, God’s final and complete reign begins. And in Chapters 21 and 22 we’ll find a full description of this glory that we live in hope for. And yes, Satan is defeated. But no, it’s not completely finished yet. Things are still provisional and incomplete. Satan is locked away, but only for a thousand years. God’s faithful people are raised up and join in his reign, but only the martyrs who suffered for their faith. The Bible says specifically “those who had been beheaded.” I’m guessing that was the Romans’ favorite way of dealing with Christians. But even the most literal-minded among us would assume that if someone was martyred by stoning, or by being fed to lions, the promise applies to them as well. Do you think that the actual method of execution makes a difference for a martyr’s destiny? But this opens the door to some more questions. Does this promise apply only to people who died for the faith (whether by beheading or otherwise)? Or does it apply to everyone who has suffered for the faith, by bearing testimony to Christ and refusing to accept the standards of the world around us? If this is the case, how much suffering must one experience to qualify? Is it enough to be tortured? To be arrested? To be made fun of? To have to get up early on Sunday to go to church? If you really want to stretch it, you could say that anyone who is faithful suffers in some way for the faith. But that seems to run counter to the plain meaning of this passage. It suggests that those who suffer to the point of death receive special consideration in the afterlife. They are the ones who will rule in heaven with Christ, and will join him in judgment. On the other hand, however, Paul tells us that all Christians will share in the blessing of ruling and judging with Christ in heaven (Romans 8:16-17, 1 Corinthians 6:2-3). So the question remains: who is included in the “first resurrection:” just the martyrs (however you define the term), or all Christians?

And if this isn’t enough to make your head spin, we haven’t even made it to the real bugbear of this passage: the idea of a thousand years. Satan isn’t locked up forever: he’s only given a prison term of 1,000 years. Sure, that’s a long time, but wouldn’t we rather it be a permanent incarceration? Think of criminals convicted of horrible crimes like mass murder or child molestation. It seems as though any possibility of their eventual release is something that irks people. That’s even more true in this case. Why wouldn’t God just throw Satan into the Abyss forever? Instead, we get this description that he will come back out after 1,000 years. And beginning with verse 7, we’ll find out what happens after his release. Speculation into this matter is called “millenarianism,” from the Latin word for a thousand. What is this thousand-year reign of Christ with the saints all about? There are three major viewpoints about it. The first is called “post-millennialism,” which says that Christ will come to earth after the 1,000 years. In general, post-millennialists claim that the church is (or will) rule over the earth during the 1,000 years, and that Christ will come at the end of that period. This, by the way, led to massive frenzy in western Europe in the year 1000, because people thought that the time had come. To be honest, I have trouble accepting that notion, mostly because it assumes that the church is ruling the earth now. Not only is there plenty of evidence to the contrary, but Revelation itself makes a big deal of the fact that evil is running rampant on the earth. If you’re a post-millennialist, the best you can hope for is the time in the future when the church runs the world on God’s behalf. The second theory is “pre-millennialism,” which explains that Christ will return to earth literally, that he will raise the believers, and that he will reign on earth for a thousand years. This is probably the most common understanding of this passage today. A third version is called “a-millennialism,” which argues that there isn’t going to be some thousand-year period of time like this at all. It’s all symbolic.

All of these arguments avoid the real question of the passage: why is there a thousand-year period at all? Even if you’re an a-millennialist who says that it’s symbolic, what is it symbolic of? If you’re a pre-millennialist, what’s the point for Christ to reign on the earth for this period of time, instead of just going straight to the glory of heaven? And why is Satan let loose again?

It’s just as Professor Caird said. There has been so much speculation about this passage, which has led to so many different theories, that it makes your head spin. The reason for all this confusion is simple. First, we aren’t given much information to work with, so we have to guess at what’s really going on. And second, we don’t understand what this thousand years is all about. I’m inclined to understand the thousand years as a symbol for a really long time (just like the 144,000 elect of Chapter 7 are an immense number of God’s people and not a specific number). But I don’t have a clue why there’s an end to it.

Here’s my best guess, but I’m not going to stake anything on it. Satan is penned up for a while, and God raises all of the faithful to join in Christ’s glory and authority. Because they are going to be judges with Jesus, they need to be resurrected first. It’s only after they’ve been raised and have had some time to enjoy the blessings of life with Christ that the final judgment takes place. And since Satan is one of the ones to be judged, he has to be released for “sentencing.” The rest of the passage explains what happens to Satan and to those who had not accepted Christ’s gift. So in this case, Satan’s time in the Abyss is like a criminal’s incarceration before trial. God is putting together the elect to serve as judges with Christ. And once he does so, court is in session and Satan gets what’s coming to him. (As it turns out, being trapped in an Abyss is too good for him. But that’s a topic for the next section.)

Instead of focusing on the arcane and mysterious stuff about the millennium and the first and second resurrections, I’d like to look instead at the main theme of the passage. And it’s pretty straightforward and simple: Satan is locked away, and those who are faithful to God are vindicated. All of the suffering and deprivation that they went through came to an end, and the hope that they had based their life upon came true. To put it crassly, the faithful are like the children who have been good all year, in hopes that Santa would bring them the goodies that they put on their lists. All the hard work of doing chores and being polite to adults finally paid off with lots of packages under the tree.

I’d like to look at it somewhat differently, and a lot less selfishly. Our world, and each of us individually, has suffered. Satan and the forces of evil have taken their toll on us all. Misery and distress surrounds us in all sorts of ways: warfare, disease, poverty, injustice, violence, ignorance, famine…. The list goes on and on. It’s on the news every night and in the newspaper every day. It’s almost impossible to be cynical when someone claims to have an answer to the problems that we face. Generally, we assume that they’re just trying to take advantage of us and make themselves a little bit less miserable by making the rest of us more miserable. But when we’re really honest with ourselves, we realize that the problem isn’t just “out there” among all of those rascals that cause problems. It isn’t even just plain dumb luck that strikes one person with cancer and crashes a hurricane into a particular coastline. The forces of evil aren’t just around us; they lie within us as well. Some of us are so painfully aware of the brokenness and trouble within our lives that we can barely function. Others of us know it’s there, but do our best to soldier on in spite of it all, and hope that maybe we can accomplish enough good to make up for the bad that we cause. Still others of us refuse to acknowledge fatal flaw within us. Maybe we’re so proud that we don’t even recognize our own faults. Or maybe they frighten us so much that we don’t want to acknowledge that they exist.

The good news for us, and the hope that moves us, is that this sorry state of affairs isn’t the final chapter in the story. A time will come when evil will be wrapped up in chains, locked up, and thrown into a bottomless pit. The brokenness and the pain that we suffer, and that we cause, will be removed. We’ll finally be released from all that makes life miserable, and we’ll be able to enjoy the glory and the joy that God wants for us all. At times, it may seem like it’s a long way off. And we can’t imagine how the time could possibly come, or the problems could possibly disappear. But that’s our hope, and that’s what keeps us going. Even if we face something as horrible as beheading, the time will come when God will free us from the chains that evil and suffering have wrapped us in.

Revelation 18:21-24 – A Mirror for Medusa

Medusa was one of the more terrifying monsters of Greek mythology. She had snakes on her head instead of hair, which was bad enough. But what made her truly terrifying was that if anyone looked at her, they would turn into stone. So, how can you fight an enemy that you can’t look at? According to the ancient legends, a hero named Perseus killed Medusa by looking at her reflection on his mirror-like shield. Then, like the enterprising warrior that he was, he used Medusa’s head as a weapon for himself. He’d show up for battle and hold her head up high (while being careful to look the other way). It wasn’t long until the other soldiers would look at the head. Then, instead of facing an army, Perseus was standing in the middle of a statuary.

I’m going to take this mythological tale, and give it a slight twist in order to help us understand this passage. Imagine that Perseus used his mirror to defeat Medusa, but instead of using it to look at her reflection, he held it up to her so that she had to look at her own reflection. In the way that I want to re-write this ancient tale (as disrespectful as that may be), Medusa sees herself, and by looking at herself, turns to stone. Perseus is smart enough to turn Medusa’s own weapon against herself. (Again, I apologize for messing with classic mythology. And there may even be a different myth that makes the point I’m creating here. If so, I apologize).

My tale of Medusa is a fanciful way to describe the downfall of Babylon, the embodiment of evil and oppression in the world. The point isn’t very obvious from this passage all by itself. But as I’ve said before, Revelation is in the back of the Bible for a reason. You need to know the rest of the story before you can make sense out of it. For people like John’s readers who knew Scripture inside and out, the words of this mighty angel who declares the doom of Babylon would sound awfully familiar. And its echo of familiar words would give them insight both into why Babylon fell, and hope for times when they are under Babylon’s heel.

The best way to understand this passage is to hold it beside Jeremiah 25. So let’s look a bit at what this great Old Testament prophet had to say. He brought God’s word during the final days of the kingdom of Judah. For many generations, the nation had slipped away from faithful obedience to God. There had been one or two promising bright points, but the downward slide was painfully evident. It had finally reached the point that God decided he had had enough. It was time for him to punish Judah. So he gave power to the empire of Babylon—yes, Babylon. This is the real Babylon that ends up becoming the symbol of powerful evil in Revelation. He gives the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar the permission and ability to destroy Judah. Under Nebuchadnezzar’s terrifying power, Judah is decimated and becomes a wasteland. Jeremiah describes how joy and productivity will disappear from Judah. No more music or joyful sounds. No more wedding celebrations. No more millstones grinding wheat into food. No more light, even. It’s a devastating and sobering prediction. Jeremiah declares that Babylon will turn happiness into sorrow and prosperity into poverty. But it only happens because God has given the Babylonians the ability to do it. Ultimately, it is God who destroys Judah.

That’s the message from Jeremiah. It’s a sobering one. Under God’s direction and authority, Babylon brings Jerusalem low. But the Revelation passage tells us that it’s only the first act of God’s incredible drama. Here we read how Babylon itself will be destroyed. The similarities between the descriptions of Jerusalem’s demise and Babylon’s destruction are uncanny. John, led by the Holy Spirit, certainly wanted us to read this description of his vision with an eye to Jeremiah. The same doom that Babylon brought to Judah now comes upon Babylon itself. What happened to Judah will happen to Babylon. Babylon had been like Medusa, turning all her neighbors to stone under her terrible gaze. Now, the mirror is turned on Medusa herself, and she suffers the same fate that she had visited upon others. There’s a sense of balance and justice here. The one who causes suffering succumbs to her own weapons.

I’m particularly struck by the angel’s comment at the very end of verse 23: “By your magic spell all the nations were led astray.” We’ve spoken before about the intoxicating, seductive nature of Babylon’s appeal to the world. Everyone (or practically everyone) was led astray from the universal circle of praise around God by Babylon’s allure. Luxury and power had a grip on people that they couldn’t escape. It truly was like a magic spell: something that blinds people to the truth and to what really matters, as they follow Babylon like rats following the Pied Piper. Or, to use the example I started with, everyone is destroyed by Babylon’s terrible, magical gaze that turns flesh into stone. But now, Babylon falls victim to her own magic. Like Medusa turned to stone by her own reflection, Babylon’s power works against itself. The empire that brought sorrow to Judah now faces the exact same sorrow herself. What goes around comes around.

We can pick up three points from this lesson that can help us understand our own lives more fully.
First, be careful not to fall for the spell: don’t look at Medusa. This is the same lesson we’ve learned before. We live in an enchanted forest. Don’t eat the mushrooms! Hold onto the truth of God’s love and faithfulness, which is the surest antidote we can find to Babylon’s evil charms.
Second, be sure you’re not Medusa, or you’ll have to taste your own medicine. What Babylon did to others is what happened to her. It’s a weird way to look at the Golden Rule. If people treated you the way that you treat them, would you be satisified? If not, it’s time to make a change.
And third, if Medusa is attacking you, there’s hope. The one causing your suffering is going to suffer herself. We gain freedom from our captors when they succumb to their own spells. God’s power brings hope in situations of hopelessness. Medusa can be turned to stone.