Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Every Race, Tribe, Nation, and Language

Every Race, Tribe, Nation, and Language

Revelation 7:9-17; Galatians 3:28[1]

Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets. Many of us may know if him by his poem “The Road Not Taken.” One of his poems called “Mending Wall” questions the validity of the boundaries in this world. In the poem, Frost puts it this way: “Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, that wants it down.”[2] Now, what we have to understand is that in Frost’s New England stone “walls” were the “fences” between properties. The poem is about the annual ritual that he and his neighbor performed—walking the wall to replace stones that have fallen off.

In the poem, the “neighbor” insists on holding firmly to the notion handed down to him that “Good fences make good neighbors.” But Frost saw the very forces of nature working against the continued existence of stone fences. Whether it was the ground swelling and contracting, toppling the stones, or it was the action of ice freezing and breaking up the stones, Frost saw the very elements themselves as conspiring to bring down the walls and fences that conventional wisdom insists “make good neighbors.” From Frost’s perspective, God has built into nature itself the intention to continually uproot and overturn walls and fences. But, of course, Frost’s poem was about more than just physical walls. He was talking about all the boundaries and divisions we feel compelled to uphold.

That’s one the points in the vision of the great multitude in Revelation. In that vast throng of people worshipping the one on the throne and the Lamb, all the boundaries and lines and divisions that separate people from one another are erased. Of course, that vision is contrary to the way of the world. In fact, it was contrary to the way of the world from the time it was written down. The way of the world says that only members are allowed. The way of the world says you must wear shoes and a shirt to receive service. The way of the world insists that differences in color and culture constitute absolute boundaries that must be upheld at all cost. This world wants clear boundaries and fences—and laws that reinforce them!

In the Kingdom of God, however, the standard operating procedure is “neither Jew nor Greek, neither male nor female, neither slave nor free” (Gal 3:28). To expand on that statement today, we would have to say that the way of the Kingdom of God is neither white nor black nor brown nor yellow nor red; neither rich nor poor, neither employed nor unemployed, neither middle class nor unhoused; neither native born citizen, nor refugee, nor immigrant, “legal” or otherwise. All are included in God’s vision of new life for the human family. Like Frost’s notion of nature itself conspiring to bring down the walls in our world, God’s Kingdom is designed so that nothing will be left that can possibly divide us!

The vision of the great multitude in Revelation is a startling one. I think the majority of us in mainline protestant churches may have read this passage as if the crowd were composed only of white, anglo-saxon, protestant Christian, middle- to upper-class voting citizens of the USA! In other words, people who look just like us. But the seer of Revelation says that this multitude comes from “every race, tribe, nation, and language” (Rev. 7:9 CEV). In the First-Century world, that was a description of just about every distinction that could possibly divide the human family. It’s an understatement to say that in our day we’ve added to that list! But the point of the vision is that the “great multitude” cuts across all the ways in which we like to divide humanity to “protect” ourselves from “others” who are different from us.

After almost fifty years of studying the Bible, it’s my considered opinion that this vision of the kingdom of God including all people is the focus of the biblical message. Many have tried to frame the “great multitude” in Revelation as a vast throng of Christians from every people group. But I would insist that way of thinking is foreign to the Bible. From start to finish, the Bible tells us about God’s purpose to restore the whole human family, no exceptions. At the start of that great work, Abraham hears the promise that “in you all the families of the earth will be blessed” (Gen. 12:3).[3] And the end of God’s project, depicted by the vision of the vast and diverse crowd around the throne in the book of Revelation, gives us an actual image of what that could look like: the whole human family gathered around the throne as “servants of God” (Rev. 7:3)![4]

This vision lies at the heart of the call in the book of Revelation to follow the way of the Lamb who was slain. But Revelation also makes it clear that all who follow that way expose themselves to danger. It’s dangerous to follow a man who was executed for turning the world upside down. It’s dangerous to hold faithfully to the testimony of the Lamb who was slain. It's dangerous to follow the one who wins the victory not by force but by giving himself over to death. And it’s dangerous to choose to follow the way that seeks to erase all the “differences” we use to divide the human family. That’s what the “Lamb who was slain” calls us to do.

We live in a time when it feels like the “powers that be” are obsessed with reinforcing the way of the world and all its divisions. When we embrace people from every race, tribe, nation, and language—as well as all the other “groups” into which we divide the human family, we must expect opposition, hostility, and perhaps even violence. But I would say that it makes a difference every time one of us chooses to follow the radically inclusive way of the Lamb. I would say every time one of us chooses to follow this way, we are continuing the process of “turning the world upside down” that Jesus began. And we can take comfort from the assurance that the Lamb who was slain will one day be revealed as the one who has won the victory! On that day, the biblical vision of God’s Kingdom will be fulfilled, where all the walls and fences and boundaries and divisions are torn down. In the meantime, the assurance is that when we choose to cross a boundary to show God’s love to any who are excluded as “different,” we are making a contribution to that final victory.[5]



[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 5/11/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Robert Frost, “Mending Wall,” from North of Boston.

[3] Cf. Richard Bauckham, “The List of the Tribes in Revelation 7, Again,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 42 (1991):99-115; cf. 103, where he emphasizes the vision of the innumerable multitude as a fulfillment of the promise to Abraham and his descendants.

[4] Cf. Balmer H. Kelly, “Revelation 7:9-17,” Interpretation 40 (July, 1986): 294, where he says this passage presents “an unalloyed ‘gospel,’ a seeing and hearing of the final justification of Christian hope.”

[5] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 293: since the Christian community is “the sign, the instrument, and the breaking-in” of Christ’s reign and therefore of the new creation, it “is therefore not an exclusive community of the saved, but the initial and inclusive materialization of the world freed by the risen Christ.”

Jesus Calls Us

 Jesus Calls Us

John 21:1-17; Acts 9:1-20[1]

Last week we talked about how we are always in the process of “coming to faith” in the midst of new challenges and opportunities. And we do that by responding to those challenges and opportunities with a faith that is both true to life and true to who we are. But the question remains, what does it look like for us to authentically “come to faith”? In one of our Scripture lessons, we heard the story of Saul’s “conversion” on the road to Damascus. That experience has been held up by many in our day as the definitive model for what it means for us to truly come to faith in Jesus. We make a complete, 180-degree turn in our lives. We turn away, in a dramatic experience, from all that may lead us “astray” and determine to walk the “straight and narrow path.”

That traditional view of conversion has resulted in a lot of people getting “saved” who never really experience much of a change in the way they live. Once the “drama” in the dramatic conversion wears off, everything goes “back to normal.” I would say there’s something amiss when that happens. In our Scripture lessons for today we hear the stories of three people who, when Jesus called them, changed the way they were living their lives, and never went “back to normal.” In part, that change took place because their encounter with Jesus changed the way they viewed reality as a whole, and how they were going about their lives. But I would say the Bible is full of stories of people who changed the way they lived because of an encounter with God. And the point of those stories is that truly coming to faith changes the way you live.

In our Gospel lesson, Simon Peter and a number of the other “apostles” have gone fishing. It’s a little confusing, because this story comes after John’s Gospel has already told us about Jesus’ appearance to them, not once but twice. It would seem that this story, which had the ring of truth to it, never quite found a “home” in the tradition of preaching the good news that came to be written down in our Gospels. What is notable is that it “explains” how Simon Peter went from being a deserter to being a leader in the early church. After boasting that though all the others might desert Jesus, he would die before doing so (cf. Matt. 26:33/Mk. 14:29), Peter publicly denied even knowing Jesus. Not once, but three times. It shouldn’t surprise us that Peter went fishing. He likely thought his career as an “apostle” of Jesus was over.

But Jesus had different plans for Peter. Jesus revealed himself to Peter as the one who was risen from the dead and called them all back from fishing. Even Peter. After they shared a meal together, Jesus had an unusual conversation with Peter. He began by asking, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?” (Jn. 21:15, NLT). I would say it’s likely that Jesus’ question alluded to Peter’s boast, which implied that he loved Jesus more than the other disciples, because he would die with Jesus even though the others deserted him. Peter, now a much humbler man after his bitter failure, simply answered, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” And in response, Jesus simply told him, “Feed my lambs.” Just a simple task, yet one that would take all the love, all the energy, and all the strength he had to give. And to leave no room for doubt about what Jesus had in mind for him, he asked Peter the same question three times, and each time he told Peter that if he loved him, Peter should show it by caring for the “flock.” Peter emerged from this encounter with Jesus a changed man.

In our lesson from the book of Acts, we learn how Saul the Pharisee encountered Jesus, alive and risen. Given our general impression of St. Paul the Apostle to the Gentiles, we might find the description of Saul the Pharisee a bit shocking: he was “breathing threats and murder” against the disciples of Jesus (Acts. 9:1)! It’s hard for us to imagine the same Apostle who wrote “Love is patient; love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4) acting out such vicious hostility. But as he was on his way to carry out his violent intentions, he met Jesus. I find it interesting that, when Jesus confronts him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), Saul replies, “Who are you, Lord?” Despite his former notions about Jesus, Saul recognized that he was dealing with the “Lord.” But nevertheless, I think he was stunned to hear the answer: “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” (Acts 9:5 NLT). And as we know, that encounter with Jesus, alive and risen, changed his life. Saul the persecutor became Paul the preacher of the Gospel.

But he wasn’t the only one who was changed. We also hear how Ananias, one of the believers living in Damascus, was changed, and perhaps the whole community of believers as well. Ananias had heard about Saul’s violent persecution of believers. Like most of the Christians of that day, I’m quite sure Ananias feared Saul. And yet, we hear that Jesus appeared to Ananias in a “vision” and told him to “Go” and “ask for” Saul of Tarsus. It’s not surprising that Ananias objected! But Jesus insisted, “Go, for Saul is my chosen instrument” (Acts 9:15, NLT). And so Ananias went. But his encounter with Jesus had also changed him. Instead of approaching Saul with fear, he called him, “Brother Saul,” and he prayed for him. As a result, Saul was welcomed into the fellowship of believers. I would say that played no small role in the fact that Saul the former persecutor began preaching the Gospel so effectively that the believers had to smuggle him out of Damascus for his own safety.

Three stories of people who encountered Jesus, alive and risen from the dead. Three stories of people whose lives were forever changed by that encounter. Peter went from being a dejected failure to a leader of the church. “Simon, do you love me more than these others do?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” Saul went from being a violent persecutor to a humble and obedient servant of the Gospel. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” “Who are you, Lord?” “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” Ananias, and likely the whole community of believers, went from living in fear of persecution to witnessing first-hand what God could do with someone like Saul the Pharisee when they embraced him as a brother.

I would say that in each case, these people were following a course of action that was dictated by their assumptions about their lives, about their reality, and about other people. Peter went fishing, he wasn’t feeding any lambs. Saul wasn’t proclaiming the Gospel, he was trying to stop it. Ananias wasn’t about to go anywhere near Saul of Tarsus, let alone call him “brother” or pray for him. But those assumptions were preventing them from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom. So Jesus, the one who was alive and risen from the dead, confronted each of them. And in response, their lives were never the same. It makes me wonder what assumptions we’re holding that may be preventing us from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom in our day. Perhaps it’s time we submit them to Jesus, the one who is alive and risen from the dead, so that we might learn from him how our lives need to change. Coming to faith is always about responding to the call of Jesus in the midst of new challenges and opportunities in a way that is both true to life and true to who we are.



[1] © 2025 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm PhD on 5/4/2025 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.