"Making it" into heaven
Commentary
What is a saint?
According to the Roman Catholic church, a saint is a holy person who has been elevated by God to heaven, there to pray for those of us who need their help. There is a three-step process: the request by those who knew the person in life, and who attest to their holiness; a witness by at least two people that they asked the candidate to pray for them and their prayer was granted in a miraculous way; and an investigation by the Vatican into all this evidence. The declaration is made by the pope.
In most Protestant denominations the word “saint” applies to all faithful Christians, following the example of Paul in the New Testament. However, we often hear people say, “She was a real saint, that woman!” We all know those whose prayers for others seem to be answered more often, who seem to live out all of the gifts of the Spirit. But ourselves? Most of us are honest enough to laugh off such a title. We know our hearts are not pure, no matter how hard we may try. Which is how we know that we cannot work our way into heaven,
Still, the Bible tells us that our lives are to show God’s love. We are to be loving, kind, generous, gentle, full of joy, patient, wise, and fully trust in God in all circumstances. Which none of us can do without God’s grace leading us. In short, we do our best and let Christ make up the rest.
Revelation 7:9-17
Who is the author of this vision we call “The Revelation”? We don’t know. It is surely not the John who was Jesus’ “beloved disciple.” It was written too late for that to be the case, and the early church wasn’t sure it should be included in those books being accumulated as the scripture inspired by the Spirit. Even today, there are scholars and ruling bodies of denominations who would like to remove Revelation from the Bible, on the basis that it is the source of too many wild ideas about the End of the World.
It certainly does lend itself to speculation. But when we read this vision, we must remember that visions are open to interpretation. Often, the most important aspect is not the actions in a vision but its structure. This is most certainly true of Revelation, which is roughly arranged in seven sets of sevens. Seven is the number of God in the time and place in which it was written, and the numerology reflected in the structure of the book indicates that the underlying message is “Fear not! Horrible things may be happening, but God is still in charge. His will shall be recognized on earth as in heaven, and though we may die to this world, God has wonderful things planned for those who remain faithful to God and the Lamb which has been sacrificed for us” (Jesus Christ).
This hymn of praise being sung by the multitude of heaven is directed to “God’s throne and to the Lamb,” who first appeared at the very beginning of the Revelation. The Lamb has shed his blood on their behalf so that they are cleansed. That is the meaning of the white robes that they all wear -- the purity of the people who wear them. Purity not of their own, but the shared purity of the Lamb of God, which is the meaning of their washing their robes in the blood of the Lamb. The brilliant light of God, reminiscent of the angels who announced the resurrection at the tomb on Easter morning, is symbolized in these white robes that the multitude wear.
These robes also reflect the community of those who have followed the Lamb. They may come from every nation, tribe, language, and color of skin, eyes, and hair, but they are united in the Realm of God. We will lay aside our racism to be a part of that multitude. We will lay aside our patriotism to earthly nations to be a part of God’s Reign. We will lay aside our native tongues to be a part of the Nation of God. We will also lay aside our religions, learning “the new, new song” in order to be able to purely praise God and the Lamb. We will not lay aside our person, but we will take off every aspect of our world that splits us into factions so that we may be united in our love of God and our desire for peace. There can be no peace as long as we are factionalized. As long as we fear and hate those who are different from ourselves, we can never have peace. So all of that is laid aside when we enter God’s kingdom.
This laying aside of our differences is not easy. One of the elders gathered around God’s throne with the angels asks John: “Who are these... and where have they come from?” John wisely demurs: “Sir, you are the one that knows.” And he learns that “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal” (v. 14).
Now, we may say that the elder was referring to the persecution of Christians by the Romans, the blame Nero laid on them for the burning of Rome. We remember the movies that showed the Christians being thrown to the lions. That must be the ordeal, we may think. And it may have been, back in the early days of Christianity.
Today, many people are predicting that we are approaching the Apocalypse that John describes in this book. They look at the wars that just keep running with no winners, only piles of dead men, women, and children. They look at the threat of nuclear weapons to every living thing on our planet. They look at the climate change we’re going through, driven by the accumulation of carbon dioxide in our air. Seismologists warn us that the ground in and around Yellowstone National Park is rising, which could be a precursor to a devastating eruption, and point to the awakening of volcanoes around the world as contributing more carbon dioxide and ash to the air (both dangerous to the lungs of land animals of all kinds), and the changing pH of our oceans, lakes, and rivers worldwide. The Great Barrier Reef, for example, is dying incrementally, having lost one-third of the life that was there just 20 years ago, leaving behind their white skeletons. All of this is overwhelming. Add in the violence we are seeing in cities all over the world, not to mention the violence of terrorist groups and drug cartels and the millions of displaced populations fleeing their homelands and the pressure this has been putting on Europe especially.
Could this be “the great ordeal” the elder speaks of?
Whatever the truth about the great ordeal, this multitude of people have gone through it. They have accepted God’s sacrifice on their behalf, and praise God for their security. They have found sanctuary, food security, shade from the heat of the day (remember, John is on the island of Patmos in the equatorial region, where the temperatures run around 100o and the humidity of the Mediterranean lays heavy on those who are working in the sun), and they will never again be attacked by those who would take their lives or livelihoods.
This promise is so precious that even those who are not starving or thirsty or in danger of violence cling to it. We read this promise at many funerals all over the world on a daily basis. “[T]he Lamb... will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” The great hope of the Christian faith is that we will attain that blessed state of safety, along with the angels and all the other denizens of the Realm of Light, and be able to sing with them:
Blessing and glory and wisdom
And thanksgiving and honor
And power and might
Be to our God forever and ever! Amen.
1 John 3:1-3
On the other hand, just so we don’t think that we know exactly what to expect to find in heaven, there is this letter from another John (not the same John who wrote the Revelation -- that vision is easily 90 years newer than this letter), who says that “what we will be has not yet been revealed. [But] when it is revealed, we will be like him.” Because if we are not like him, we will not be able to see God.
Remember, in the Old Testament people were told that they could not see God and live. Even Elijah, the great prophet of Israel, could not see God’s face, but God covered him with his hand as he went past, greater, more powerful than the earthquake, wind, and fire that preceded him. Elijah could see God moving away, but not God’s face. Moses saw God as a burning bush, and perhaps as fire at the top of Mount Sinai. He talked with God “as a man talks with a friend,” even arguing with God, but he never said he had seen the face of God. And Isaiah, upon seeing the throne of God, cried out: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
Even those who have seen the messengers of God (angels) without their often-donned disguise of being human beings have fainted in fright.
Nevertheless, John asserts that we who follow Jesus are truly children of God. What does that mean? Modern science tells us that life on our planet may have literally come from the stars, from the radiation and dust generated from the explosion of some star trillions of miles away. If our God created the universe, then the idea that we are made of stardust, brought to life by gamma rays, is not unbelievable, is it? It has been said that we are not afraid of our smallness, we are afraid of our power, and run from using it. Perhaps this is what John means by calling us children of God. We have the power of God on our side. We are weak only when we choose to be. We are called to be saints -- to wield the power of God for good for our world, our nation, our community, our family.
If this is our hope, John says, we had better get busy living a life worthy of that gift. Notice: we are not to purify ourselves in order to become children of God, we purify ourselves in order to accept the gift God is offering us. As it is, we are like the falsely modest beauty who turns aside a compliment on what she is wearing by saying “This old thing?”
We can lay this passage next to the parable Jesus told about the king whose son was getting married. He sent out invitations and was turned down again and again by the invitees: “Oh, I’m sorry, my business is not doing well. I have to take care of business every day or go under.” “Oh, I can’t come. So sorry, I’ll be having company at my own house that day.” And so on. Finally, fed up with the regrets he was getting, he sent his servants out to round up the destitute -- those who had no businesses to tend to, who could barely hobble out to the road, let alone go out of town on business. They all came to the palace, where a wonderful party was given.
But one man came without a wedding garment. Now, I seriously doubt that the destitute had wedding garments. None of them could possibly have an expensive garment suitable for wearing to the palace. So we need to understand that there’s a metaphor going on here. It’s a matter of preparing our spirit to be in the presence of God. If we have rejected our status as Children of God, we cannot be prepared for that moment.
Just as we get ourselves ready to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas by bathing, styling our hair, getting out our holiday clothes (whether our family gets dressed up for church or dons Christmas sweaters with Santa or snowmen), we want to be ready when it comes time to see God. We purify ourselves, not to qualify for an invitation, but in response to the love of God who holds out his hands for a hug as we come into the home prepared for us.
Matthew 5:1-12
Entire books have been written about the Beatitudes. Lenten meditations use one per week to talk about who the blessed of God are. So how are we to talk about them in one sermon, for which we already have two rich segments of scripture? Let’s look at them as a whole rather than piecemeal.
What Jesus says in this collection of “Blessed are” statements is this: “Never mind what the world does. The world wants power, prestige, and strength. You who are poor, grieving, humble (the meaning of meek), who wonder why there is so much violence, who are overlooked or actively mocked, bullied, or ignored by the world, you are loved by God. The very things that make the world despise you are the things God admires. God has plans to reward you.”
Luke (chapter 6) goes further. There are woes for those who are the opposite of poor, meek, righteous, and peacemakers. They will pay for the way they treated the saints of God.
Both Luke and Matthew end their respective lists of blessings with “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you.” Matthew adds “falsely” to that. But both add “on my account.” We also need to drop the word “falsely” so we can hear more clearly that God is against prejudice of every kind, and especially acts of violence that grow out of our prejudice. We tend to think that God hates the same people we do -- and that is a dangerous mindset, not just for those we target but for us. “For you will be judged as you have judged others.”
It is difficult to accept these blessings (and the woes in Luke) when we live in a society so prosperous that even our religion is tinged with the idea that God wants us to have everything we want, that God wants us to be rich, and that all we have to do is attune ourselves to a powerful attitude and we will have all sorts of material goods showered on us.
We tend, as a society, to blame the poor for their own situation and to look in fear at those who live on the street, and to think that if we give money to a panhandler we are perhaps responsible for what s/he does with it -- as though we were buying alcohol for an alcoholic, thus keeping him or her on the street. But I have found that when someone approaches me for money for lunch or a coffee, that person can be very happy if I take them for a meal. I once stared, astonished, at the three plates of food a young man gobbled at an all-you-can-eat buffet I took him to when he said he would work for food. He then came back home with me and made short work of weeding two flower beds for me, work I could no longer handle due to arthritis.
What does it take to get us out of the common mindset of a prosperous society? Sometimes all it takes is the closing of a store that has lost to internet commerce. Sometimes it takes having a factory replace 90% of its workers with robots -- and you’re part of that 90%. Sometimes it’s a divorce, leaving a now-single mother to support her children and herself on less than half the money the household brought in a few months ago. Sometimes it’s an accident or an act of war or terrorism which leaves a person with brain damage that can never be repaired. In all of these cases, we can find ourselves part of that portion of society that offends the rest by our disability to keep up, our need for financial assistance or personal caretaking. And all this can happen in an instant.
Today’s scriptures remind us that God sees the poor, the kind, the peacemakers, and the negotiators as God’s children, a privileged portion of society in the realm of heaven. Never mind those who tell us that we need to take care of ourselves and our family first, that we can only change things when we are strong and well-armed.
According to the Roman Catholic church, a saint is a holy person who has been elevated by God to heaven, there to pray for those of us who need their help. There is a three-step process: the request by those who knew the person in life, and who attest to their holiness; a witness by at least two people that they asked the candidate to pray for them and their prayer was granted in a miraculous way; and an investigation by the Vatican into all this evidence. The declaration is made by the pope.
In most Protestant denominations the word “saint” applies to all faithful Christians, following the example of Paul in the New Testament. However, we often hear people say, “She was a real saint, that woman!” We all know those whose prayers for others seem to be answered more often, who seem to live out all of the gifts of the Spirit. But ourselves? Most of us are honest enough to laugh off such a title. We know our hearts are not pure, no matter how hard we may try. Which is how we know that we cannot work our way into heaven,
Still, the Bible tells us that our lives are to show God’s love. We are to be loving, kind, generous, gentle, full of joy, patient, wise, and fully trust in God in all circumstances. Which none of us can do without God’s grace leading us. In short, we do our best and let Christ make up the rest.
Revelation 7:9-17
Who is the author of this vision we call “The Revelation”? We don’t know. It is surely not the John who was Jesus’ “beloved disciple.” It was written too late for that to be the case, and the early church wasn’t sure it should be included in those books being accumulated as the scripture inspired by the Spirit. Even today, there are scholars and ruling bodies of denominations who would like to remove Revelation from the Bible, on the basis that it is the source of too many wild ideas about the End of the World.
It certainly does lend itself to speculation. But when we read this vision, we must remember that visions are open to interpretation. Often, the most important aspect is not the actions in a vision but its structure. This is most certainly true of Revelation, which is roughly arranged in seven sets of sevens. Seven is the number of God in the time and place in which it was written, and the numerology reflected in the structure of the book indicates that the underlying message is “Fear not! Horrible things may be happening, but God is still in charge. His will shall be recognized on earth as in heaven, and though we may die to this world, God has wonderful things planned for those who remain faithful to God and the Lamb which has been sacrificed for us” (Jesus Christ).
This hymn of praise being sung by the multitude of heaven is directed to “God’s throne and to the Lamb,” who first appeared at the very beginning of the Revelation. The Lamb has shed his blood on their behalf so that they are cleansed. That is the meaning of the white robes that they all wear -- the purity of the people who wear them. Purity not of their own, but the shared purity of the Lamb of God, which is the meaning of their washing their robes in the blood of the Lamb. The brilliant light of God, reminiscent of the angels who announced the resurrection at the tomb on Easter morning, is symbolized in these white robes that the multitude wear.
These robes also reflect the community of those who have followed the Lamb. They may come from every nation, tribe, language, and color of skin, eyes, and hair, but they are united in the Realm of God. We will lay aside our racism to be a part of that multitude. We will lay aside our patriotism to earthly nations to be a part of God’s Reign. We will lay aside our native tongues to be a part of the Nation of God. We will also lay aside our religions, learning “the new, new song” in order to be able to purely praise God and the Lamb. We will not lay aside our person, but we will take off every aspect of our world that splits us into factions so that we may be united in our love of God and our desire for peace. There can be no peace as long as we are factionalized. As long as we fear and hate those who are different from ourselves, we can never have peace. So all of that is laid aside when we enter God’s kingdom.
This laying aside of our differences is not easy. One of the elders gathered around God’s throne with the angels asks John: “Who are these... and where have they come from?” John wisely demurs: “Sir, you are the one that knows.” And he learns that “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal” (v. 14).
Now, we may say that the elder was referring to the persecution of Christians by the Romans, the blame Nero laid on them for the burning of Rome. We remember the movies that showed the Christians being thrown to the lions. That must be the ordeal, we may think. And it may have been, back in the early days of Christianity.
Today, many people are predicting that we are approaching the Apocalypse that John describes in this book. They look at the wars that just keep running with no winners, only piles of dead men, women, and children. They look at the threat of nuclear weapons to every living thing on our planet. They look at the climate change we’re going through, driven by the accumulation of carbon dioxide in our air. Seismologists warn us that the ground in and around Yellowstone National Park is rising, which could be a precursor to a devastating eruption, and point to the awakening of volcanoes around the world as contributing more carbon dioxide and ash to the air (both dangerous to the lungs of land animals of all kinds), and the changing pH of our oceans, lakes, and rivers worldwide. The Great Barrier Reef, for example, is dying incrementally, having lost one-third of the life that was there just 20 years ago, leaving behind their white skeletons. All of this is overwhelming. Add in the violence we are seeing in cities all over the world, not to mention the violence of terrorist groups and drug cartels and the millions of displaced populations fleeing their homelands and the pressure this has been putting on Europe especially.
Could this be “the great ordeal” the elder speaks of?
Whatever the truth about the great ordeal, this multitude of people have gone through it. They have accepted God’s sacrifice on their behalf, and praise God for their security. They have found sanctuary, food security, shade from the heat of the day (remember, John is on the island of Patmos in the equatorial region, where the temperatures run around 100o and the humidity of the Mediterranean lays heavy on those who are working in the sun), and they will never again be attacked by those who would take their lives or livelihoods.
This promise is so precious that even those who are not starving or thirsty or in danger of violence cling to it. We read this promise at many funerals all over the world on a daily basis. “[T]he Lamb... will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” The great hope of the Christian faith is that we will attain that blessed state of safety, along with the angels and all the other denizens of the Realm of Light, and be able to sing with them:
Blessing and glory and wisdom
And thanksgiving and honor
And power and might
Be to our God forever and ever! Amen.
1 John 3:1-3
On the other hand, just so we don’t think that we know exactly what to expect to find in heaven, there is this letter from another John (not the same John who wrote the Revelation -- that vision is easily 90 years newer than this letter), who says that “what we will be has not yet been revealed. [But] when it is revealed, we will be like him.” Because if we are not like him, we will not be able to see God.
Remember, in the Old Testament people were told that they could not see God and live. Even Elijah, the great prophet of Israel, could not see God’s face, but God covered him with his hand as he went past, greater, more powerful than the earthquake, wind, and fire that preceded him. Elijah could see God moving away, but not God’s face. Moses saw God as a burning bush, and perhaps as fire at the top of Mount Sinai. He talked with God “as a man talks with a friend,” even arguing with God, but he never said he had seen the face of God. And Isaiah, upon seeing the throne of God, cried out: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
Even those who have seen the messengers of God (angels) without their often-donned disguise of being human beings have fainted in fright.
Nevertheless, John asserts that we who follow Jesus are truly children of God. What does that mean? Modern science tells us that life on our planet may have literally come from the stars, from the radiation and dust generated from the explosion of some star trillions of miles away. If our God created the universe, then the idea that we are made of stardust, brought to life by gamma rays, is not unbelievable, is it? It has been said that we are not afraid of our smallness, we are afraid of our power, and run from using it. Perhaps this is what John means by calling us children of God. We have the power of God on our side. We are weak only when we choose to be. We are called to be saints -- to wield the power of God for good for our world, our nation, our community, our family.
If this is our hope, John says, we had better get busy living a life worthy of that gift. Notice: we are not to purify ourselves in order to become children of God, we purify ourselves in order to accept the gift God is offering us. As it is, we are like the falsely modest beauty who turns aside a compliment on what she is wearing by saying “This old thing?”
We can lay this passage next to the parable Jesus told about the king whose son was getting married. He sent out invitations and was turned down again and again by the invitees: “Oh, I’m sorry, my business is not doing well. I have to take care of business every day or go under.” “Oh, I can’t come. So sorry, I’ll be having company at my own house that day.” And so on. Finally, fed up with the regrets he was getting, he sent his servants out to round up the destitute -- those who had no businesses to tend to, who could barely hobble out to the road, let alone go out of town on business. They all came to the palace, where a wonderful party was given.
But one man came without a wedding garment. Now, I seriously doubt that the destitute had wedding garments. None of them could possibly have an expensive garment suitable for wearing to the palace. So we need to understand that there’s a metaphor going on here. It’s a matter of preparing our spirit to be in the presence of God. If we have rejected our status as Children of God, we cannot be prepared for that moment.
Just as we get ourselves ready to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas by bathing, styling our hair, getting out our holiday clothes (whether our family gets dressed up for church or dons Christmas sweaters with Santa or snowmen), we want to be ready when it comes time to see God. We purify ourselves, not to qualify for an invitation, but in response to the love of God who holds out his hands for a hug as we come into the home prepared for us.
Matthew 5:1-12
Entire books have been written about the Beatitudes. Lenten meditations use one per week to talk about who the blessed of God are. So how are we to talk about them in one sermon, for which we already have two rich segments of scripture? Let’s look at them as a whole rather than piecemeal.
What Jesus says in this collection of “Blessed are” statements is this: “Never mind what the world does. The world wants power, prestige, and strength. You who are poor, grieving, humble (the meaning of meek), who wonder why there is so much violence, who are overlooked or actively mocked, bullied, or ignored by the world, you are loved by God. The very things that make the world despise you are the things God admires. God has plans to reward you.”
Luke (chapter 6) goes further. There are woes for those who are the opposite of poor, meek, righteous, and peacemakers. They will pay for the way they treated the saints of God.
Both Luke and Matthew end their respective lists of blessings with “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you.” Matthew adds “falsely” to that. But both add “on my account.” We also need to drop the word “falsely” so we can hear more clearly that God is against prejudice of every kind, and especially acts of violence that grow out of our prejudice. We tend to think that God hates the same people we do -- and that is a dangerous mindset, not just for those we target but for us. “For you will be judged as you have judged others.”
It is difficult to accept these blessings (and the woes in Luke) when we live in a society so prosperous that even our religion is tinged with the idea that God wants us to have everything we want, that God wants us to be rich, and that all we have to do is attune ourselves to a powerful attitude and we will have all sorts of material goods showered on us.
We tend, as a society, to blame the poor for their own situation and to look in fear at those who live on the street, and to think that if we give money to a panhandler we are perhaps responsible for what s/he does with it -- as though we were buying alcohol for an alcoholic, thus keeping him or her on the street. But I have found that when someone approaches me for money for lunch or a coffee, that person can be very happy if I take them for a meal. I once stared, astonished, at the three plates of food a young man gobbled at an all-you-can-eat buffet I took him to when he said he would work for food. He then came back home with me and made short work of weeding two flower beds for me, work I could no longer handle due to arthritis.
What does it take to get us out of the common mindset of a prosperous society? Sometimes all it takes is the closing of a store that has lost to internet commerce. Sometimes it takes having a factory replace 90% of its workers with robots -- and you’re part of that 90%. Sometimes it’s a divorce, leaving a now-single mother to support her children and herself on less than half the money the household brought in a few months ago. Sometimes it’s an accident or an act of war or terrorism which leaves a person with brain damage that can never be repaired. In all of these cases, we can find ourselves part of that portion of society that offends the rest by our disability to keep up, our need for financial assistance or personal caretaking. And all this can happen in an instant.
Today’s scriptures remind us that God sees the poor, the kind, the peacemakers, and the negotiators as God’s children, a privileged portion of society in the realm of heaven. Never mind those who tell us that we need to take care of ourselves and our family first, that we can only change things when we are strong and well-armed.
