Revelation 7:9-17; Psalm 34:1-10, 12; 1 John 3:1-3;
Matthew 5:1-12
Let’s talk for a few minutes
about two things we rarely discuss: death and the book of Revelation. I’m going
to start with death. Our culture, by which I mean- modern, western society,
does not like death. We have lost our cultural markers for those who are
grieving- the wearing of black clothes or armbands, the special stationery and
door wreaths, the waiting for a year or years before resuming some activities,
if needed.
This
week, I ran into a woman whose husband died four years ago. She told me that one
of the hardest things is that no one will mention him any more. She longs for
stories of his life and to laugh about things he did, but she doesn’t find the
space to do that often. People don’t mention Tom, she said, because they worry
that they will make her sad. “I know he’s dead!” she stated emphatically to me.
“I want to be reminded that he lived!”
This
tension around death becomes more pronounced when a person dies under
unfortunate circumstances, whether by their own design, by accident, or very
suddenly. The grief of friends and family, then, is compounded by the
additional circumstance. What do you say to the parents of a child who died
from suicide? How do you comfort the family of someone who never went to church
or resoundly rejected God, especially if you believe differently than they do? What
are the words for a child whose parent dies in prison? We aren’t sure what to
say or do and we want to do something, but we hesitate. Then the moment seems
lost and then we worry too much time has passed… And so it goes.
The
grief sits on the surface for a while and then it seeps in to the bones. The
ache becomes familiar and then, like the other aches that come with age and
living, on some days it hurts more than others. We need the words to deal with
this ache and the words to console and comfort those around us who are
experiencing it as well. Even if someone dies a “good death”- in his or her
sleep, at a very advanced age, in mostly good relationship with all around-
there is still grief at the loss of what was and what wasn’t.
Now
how is the book of Revelation (and it’s just one revelation) like death? We don’t want to talk about it either. It’s
there, but we avoid it for as long as possible. It’s a little scary, a little
confusing, and it stirs up so many mixed emotions that we’d just rather not. Ironically,
Revelation- as a book and as a piece of writing- is meant to be comforting. The
entirety of the vision is supposed to be a consolation to those who are living
the life of faith and may be persecuted for it. It draws the community of
believers back into worship and service together. Furthermore, Revelation
points again and again to the expansive nature of God’s grace.
The
part of Revelation that directly precedes today’s reading is the part about the
144,000. Within the vision to the author, this reveals God’s continued welcome
of the faithful of the 12 tribes of Israel. The numbers in this part are
symbolic and meaningful, underscoring God’s enduring relationship- maintained
by God’s own faithfulness to the
covenant. Many of you may have heard of that number before.
However,
our narrator goes on. He looks again.
There are more than the 144K, there are multitudes, more people than can be
counted, more people than can be seen, more people than are accounted for,
except to God. These are people of all colors, all races, all nations, and all
tribes. They are gathered around the throne. Who are these people? Are they the
people who got theological formulae correct throughout history? Are they the
people who spoke Jesus’ name at the right moment and were whisked away? Does
this include the people who led good, moral lives, without regard to faith or
trust in God?
There’s
a real problem with those categories and it is the problem that Revelation
seeks to solve. It is also a problem that we need to wrestle with so that we
can recognize death for what it is and respond in faith and care. Each of those
groups- people who believed “rightly”, people who said the “right words”,
people who did the “right things”- puts them around the throne of God based on
their actions alone. Often when we come to All Saints’ Day, we think of the
lives of the people we’ve loved and lost and we console ourselves with an image
of them in God’s perpetual light by thinking of what they did right.
These
lights, these candles, these lives- symbolized here and held in our hearts- are
not shining lights of their own good works. They are shining lights of God’s
good work, of God’s salvation, of God’s grace through Jesus Christ, of God’s
hope and enduring promise. The joy, the happiness, the blessing of the saints
is not that they achieved the title through their own skill. That’s cheap
grace. They are saints because through them we have seen the Lord. They are
saints because through them we have glimpsed the true cost of grace. They are
saints because we are able to see in their lives and in their deaths,
regardless of the cause, how the Spirit shepherds the lambs of God’s flock, the
sheep of God’s fold, the sinners of God’s redeeming love.
A
multitude gathered around the throne, singing praises, with no more questions,
healed and whole, at peace, consoled, in prayer for those still running the
race, in clean robes washed in Christ’s blood, with all their questions
answered, in reunion and communion with one another and Jesus the Christ, and-
in somehow, in someway- with us. People tell me with trepidation that they
still speak to their dead loved ones, that they want to talk about them, that
they haven’t fully said good-bye, that they’re not done grieving. They wait to
see if I think they’re crazy. Then I tell them that I find consolation in
Revelation and we know then that there are two crazy people in the room.
We
don’t know what we don’t know, but we can have faith in what is still unknown.
I don’t believe in heaven and resurrection and the life everlasting because of
people who “come back” with reports or because I think God rewards good lives
or because Jesus died and that made everything okay because he was a good chap.
I
believe in the forgiveness of sins, the communion of saints, the resurrection
of the body, and the life of the world to come because I trust that God is that
BIG, that grace is that amazing, that the revelation of God’s wiping away all
tears has merit and truth based in God’s character, covenant keeping, and
dedication to life in creation. I believe in these things because they have
been revealed to me, through the power of the Spirit, not just through
scripture, but also in the lives of the saints. The saints who have died too
soon, who died in unfortunate ways, who died after long lives, who died at
peace and who died in pain. Their lights shine on, but not through their own
merit. Their lives, then and now, reflect the glory of God- creator, redeemer,
and sanctifier- who does (as we learn later in Revelation) make all things new.
That gives me the courage to talk about death, to remember the dead, and to
walk forward accompanied by Jesus, the firstborn of the dead and the Word of a
Living God.
Amen.
