Psalm 96
OT Reading: Isaiah 60.1-14
NT Reading: Revelation 3.1-13
Text: Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches. (Rev 3. 6 and 13)
In these last days before the election, the air is thick with extravagant promises, and many of us doubt whether they will be delivered. If we are honest with ourselves, we probably feel much the same about the tonight’s Old Testament readings, as well as our anthem and introit, all of which look forward with confident hope and joy to a New Age in which all creation shall stream towards Jerusalem, bearing precious gifts and bowing low before the Lord, the god of Israel. The author of the book of Revelation echoes the prophet Isaiah, as he too envisages a heavenly city whose gates shall be open day and night, a city forever shining brighter than day in the light which comes from the glory of God. But there is an unexpected twist in his prophecy, as we shall see, which perhaps makes his promises more credible.
In this season of Easter, as we celebrate the triumph of life over death in and through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, our lectionary directs us for four successive Sunday evenings to the letters in chapters 2 and 3 of the book of Revelation which are addressed to the seven churches in western Asia. The sequence culminates on Ascension Day with chapter 5, the vision of the Lamb who is found worthy to open the scroll of truth, breaking its seven seals.
Many of us find the book of Revelation difficult to comprehend. It is written in literary forms, including prophetic oracles and apocalyptic visions, which would have been familiar enough to a first century Jew, but are strange to us. We simply do not have the points of reference in our culture to make us comfortable with visions of seven-headed beasts and apocalyptic horsemen. We do relate more readily to letters and hymns of praise, but even the letters to the seven churches need to be understood within the context of the book as a whole. At the very least we need to read them in the light of the Introduction in chapter 1, and with the over-arching vision in chapters 4 and 5, where the scroll containing the mysteries is unlocked before the throne of God.
The book begins then with blessings on those who will read the letters to the seven churches and on those will listen, followed by greetings not just from John the scribe, but from Almighty God, Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end of all things, the one who is and who was and who is to come. Standing with John before God’s throne, and sending greetings with him, are seven spirits – the guardian angels of the seven churches, and Jesus Christ himself – the faithful witness to God’s eternal purposes, the firstborn of the dead, now ruler of the kings of the earth. Clearly this is the resurrected Christ, seated with his Father in glory. In his vision John hears a voice commanding him to write down what he sees for the benefit of the seven churches. When he turns to see where the voice is coming from he is met with a vision of Christ in glory, described in terms drawn from the book of Daniel. This vision is very similar to Jesus’ own vision of ‘one like a Son of Man’ which Caiaphas the High Priest declared to be mortal blasphemy when Jesus admitted to it at his trial. Awe-struck, John falls at the feet of this majestic figure, but he is calmed by a hand resting on his head, as the Vision of Christ in glory bids him not to be afraid. He was dead but is now alive forever and ever, the first and the last and the living one. He it is who tells John to write down what he has seen. Evidently the letters to the seven churches come from the highest authority and are to be taken very seriously.
We then get the specific messages addressed to each of the seven churches, of which we read tonight those addressed to the churches at Sardis and at Philadelphia. But the messages only make sense in the context of the visions which follow, and in particular the opening scene in chapters 4 and 5, before the throne of Almighty God, who is holding in his hand a scroll, waiting for someone worthy to unlock the seven seals which protect its mysteries. These are no ordinary mysteries; they are no less than God’s plan for the world’s salvation, excitingly apprehended by the prophets with a tantalising lack of precision, but hidden throughout the ages and generations as Paul declares in his letters to the Colossians (Col 1.26), and to the Corinthians (1 Cor 2.7-13). Steeped as he is in the Jewish scriptures, the author of the Book of Revelation knows what to expect. See, he is told by his guide, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals. Like the Jews of Jesus’ own day, John will have looked about him for a Messiah who would sweep in with flashing sword to vanquish the occupying Roman power, or indeed, by the time John was writing, to reverse the catastrophic destruction of Jerusalem itself in 70 AD. But when he opens his eyes, what does he actually see? This is where we encounter he unexpected twist. He sees not the Lion he expects, but the very opposite of the Lion, a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered’ (Rev 5.6). Yet it is the Lamb that is found worthy to take the scroll, and to open each of the seven seals as the book of Revelation unfolds, whilst the entourage of elders and creatures around the throne fall before him in worship, singing a new song, which celebrates his triumph in ransoming by his blood saints from every tribe and language and people and nation.
John, who is himself suffering persecution on the isle of Patmos ‘because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus’ (Rev 1.9) writes to the seven churches in western Asia to encourage them by his example and sympathy to bear their time of persecution with the patient endurance of the all-conquering Lamb. Each of the letters has the same structure. The author, now seen as Christ himself, gives the letter to the guardian / messenger angel of the church concerned, who is to deliver it. A brief reference to their strengths and weaknesses – what we would now call a SWOT analysis – is followed by words of praise or criticism as required, with warnings of the consequences of faithlessness. The church at Philadelphia is commended for its patient endurance, but it lacks the power, or perhaps the will, to push at an open door, that is to say, to exploit its open opportunity for witness and mission (Rev 3. 7-13). The church at Sardis is in an even more parlous condition. ‘I know your works, he writes; you have a name for being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, remember the good news you received and heard, obey it and repent’ (Rev 3. 1-6). Finally each church in turn is urged to persevere patiently in steadfast faith, with promises to those who overcome.
The Lion and the Lamb are one. The church at Philadelphia doesn’t have to stand helpless before an open door. The church at Sardis doesn’t have to suffocate under the weight of its own complacency; by the power of the resurrection it can breathe freely and be revived. Might we perhaps be invited to interpolate here that the church at Hampstead doesn’t have to feel that the goals of its Mission Action Plan are unattainable dreams, wishful thinking? Jesus’ sacrificial death and resurrection is the decisive victory in God’s plan for our salvation, signalling and guaranteeing the transformation which the power of the risen Christ is able to effect in the lives of individuals and of churches. The power of the risen Christ transforms the sacrificial living and giving of his faithful people from what appears to be weakness to become what will ultimately be seen as triumphant power. In the unity of the Lion and the Lamb we are invited to perceive that the death and resurrection of Christ is not just an amazing event in the past, but a present reality which can transform our lives. If our life in Christ shares in his weakness, it will assuredly share in his triumph too.
Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.