A Vision Glorious
Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5
For several weeks now in this resurrection season of Easter, we’ve had readings from Revelation as part of our Sunday Scripture readings. And we’ll hear from Revelation again next week for the Last Sunday in Easter season.
These readings are from Revelation, chapters 21 and 22. These chapters are the conclusion, the culmination of this strange book. Had we begun at the beginning of Revelation we would have covered some fantastical territory before getting to chapter 21. But Barbara Rossing, a scholar whose specialty is Revelation describes chapters 21 and 22 as “one of the most wonderful eschatological pictures in all of Scripture.”
These chapters describe an apocalyptic vision of a New Jerusalem. It is a vision of things not yet literally seen. It is one man’s vision of the fulfillment of God’s plan, the realization of God’s promise.
It is a vision. It is tempting to say it is “just” a vision. But bear in mind that all apocalyptic or eschatological writing depends upon the seers of visions. As I was reading and researching for my Lenten class on heaven, I was reminded that everything we know about heaven—or everything we think we know about heaven—comes from visions.
Nonetheless, they are “just” visions. Especially with the wild visions of Revelation it is tempting to discount them.
Writing about the book of Revelation, Raymond Brown [Introduction to the New Testament] points out that, at the very least, it reminds us that God’s plan is beyond any sort of human description. He strongly cautions against attempting to interpret Revelation predictively or looking for specific historical referants within the text. It is “figurative language.” “The symbolism of apocalyptic compels imaginative participation on the part of the hearers/readers. It finds its full meaning when it elicits emotions and feelings that cannot be conceptualized."
The writing in books like Revelation is meant to compel our imaginative participation. It finds its full meaning… this writing does what it is supposed to do when it elicits in us emotions and feelings that we cannot intellectually conceptualize. It is meant to stimulate our imaginations, our emotions and our feelings.
So, we can discount Revelation as “just” a vision or we can choose to be moved by it. We can choose to enter into the vision and let it work upon our imaginations and our hearts. I choose to let the vision move my imagination and my heart. It strikes me that this is not unlike the “choice” to fall in love or the “choice” to forgive someone who has wronged you. These are all choices to let yourself be moved, to let your imagination, emotion, or feelings be affected by something beyond yourself.
So what’s in this particular vision?
First, one important note:
Barbara Rossing again: Belief in a heavenly Jerusalem was widespread in biblical times. What is so striking in Revelation—unlike any other Jewish apocalypse—is that this heavenly city descends from heaven down to earth.
Contrary to popular apocalyptic thinking [for example in the Left Behind books], there is no “rapture” or a future snatching of Christians up from the earth in Revelation. Instead, it is God who is “raptured” down to earth to take up residence among us.”
The fulfillment of God’s plan, the hope of all God’s creation, takes place here, on this earth. It’s not about escaping this world; it’s about renewing this world.
There’s one phrase in today’s reading from Revelation that seems a bit troubling, where the seer writes that “only those written in the Lamb’s book of life,” will participate in the New Jerusalem. Rossing says that those words are not meant as prediction, but as exhortation. They are not meant to predict that only some have already been or will be chosen. They are meant to exhort us to choose to be the Lamb’s own.
It’s a glorious vision we hear about in today’s reading.
A place with no need of sun or moon , for the glory of God is its light.
Where nothing unclean exists, even our uncleanness and sinfulness are healed. A place where trees are sources of healing.
There is a river bright as crystal. It is paradise, restored.
Remember: This sort of writing finds its full meaning when it elicits emotions and feelings that cannot be conceptualized.
It is meant to tickle our imagination with glory. To stir our hearts with hope and joy.
It also invites us to bring this vision into our world, our lives today. We who claim this vision and are moved by it are meant to share it into the world.
In my imagination, my own retelling of the vision, that means something like:
We are to be people who dance in the face of the death with the same joyful abandon that my water dogs dance in the rain. In the midst of life’s storms, even in the face of death, we are to be people of joy.
We are to be people who dress like seven-year-old girls dress today, with layers of bright colors and sparkles and sequins everywhere, so that we bring the light of Christ into this world’s darkness.
We are to be people who offer forgiveness, not curses, to the evil that confronts us.
It’s a glorious vision!
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