Who Am I?

Who Am I?

Psalm 8[1]

The question of the meaning of human life is one that has been raised in various ways throughout history. On Christmas eve, 1968, it was brought to the forefront by the famous picture of the “earthrise” over the moon taken by the astronauts of Apollo 8.[2] For the first time the human family saw the earth from a vantage point other than our own. That image created a whole new approach to the meaning of human life, because it showed how small a planet we live on in comparison with the vastness of space. The question, “Who am I?” took on a different implication for many who saw this as evidence of our insignificance.

Now images of the earth taken from space are commonplace. And the Hubble telescope has brought us even more images of the vastness of the universe. But since this was the first time human beings had seen the earth as a small planet in the vast ocean of space, it made a huge impact. And yet, as striking as that image was, it wasn’t the first time that individuals had noticed that our human existence can seem rather unimportant in the scheme of things. When you look at the sweep of human history—empires and nations rising and falling over the centuries—or when you simply take the time to look up at the night sky, it can easily provoke us to ask, “Who am I?”

In fact, the psalmist who wrote our lesson for today reflects on that very question. Like anyone else, the psalmist apparently was moved by the vastness of the night sky to wonder about our place in all of that.[3] He asks, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?” (Ps. 8:3-4). It’s a common experience to feel a sense of awe when you see the beauty of a clear night that seems so full of stars. And it’s common to wonder at our place in the universe when we feel that sense of awe.

But there are several ways in which the question “Who am I?” is framed in a unique manner by the Scripture lesson. First, the wonder at our place in a universe that can seem overwhelmingly immense is framed by an affirmation that it is our God who rules over all of it.[4] At the beginning and the end of his reflections, the psalmist affirms, “O LORD, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (Ps. 8:1, 9). The question begins and ends with the affirmation that God is the one who reigns over all creation. While God’s great majesty may lead us to wonder at our place in things, at the same time, because we are God’s creatures, our lives are by definition endowed with significance.

The second way in which the psalmist frames the question “Who am I?” is by placing it in the context of God’s care for all people. Notice that the psalmist doesn’t simply ask “What are human beings?” Rather, he asks, “what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them” (Ps. 8:4).[5] Literally, the psalmist wonders why God “remembers” and “visits” mortals. The acts of “remembering” and “visiting” sum up God’s works on behalf of his people Israel throughout the Hebrew Bible. God continually made them the object of his attention and care. But the psalmist extends that care to include all humankind. Again, the thought that God pays attention to and cares for every human being is one that we may might find so amazing that it’s hard to believe. But the psalmist insists it’s a vital part of the answer to the question, “Who am I?”

The third way in which the Psalmist frames this question is by affirming the dignity of all human beings as partners in caring for God’s treasured creation.[6] He says it this way, “You have given them dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet” (Ps. 8:6).[7] It seems clear that the psalmist is reflecting here on the description of humanity as a part of God’s creation in Genesis chapter one. Unfortunately, however, the ideas of “ruling” (Gen. 1:26) or having “dominion” (Ps. 8:6) over creation have been misconstrued.[8] The idea is not that this world and all that is in it is ours to do with as we please. The idea is that we are called to be partners with God in the ongoing project of creation. We mortals have been entrusted with that which is most dear to God’s heart!

There are many ways we could approach the question “Who am I?” We could approach it functionally, based on what we do. We could approach it philosophically, or from the perspective of psychology. And those approaches have important lessons to teach us. But from the perspective of the psalmist, one cannot fully answer the question of the meaning of our lives apart from the God who created us and who reigns over all things.[9] Photos like the “earthrise” can make us think that we are alone in a vast and empty universe. But the Psalmist begs to differ. We are not left here on our own, but rather we are the objects of God’s continual attention and care.

We are not mortals who live out our short lives with no significance, but rather we are partners in God’s ongoing project of creation. That has a lot to say about who God is: not a God who is distant and absent, but a Creator who takes great delight in every aspect of creation. We see that in Jesus our Savior, and in the work of the Spirit. But it also has a lot to say about who we are: we are an important part of God’s project. All 7 billion of us are beloved and cared for by the God who is beyond the vast universe. However we answer the question “Who am I?” we cannot leave that out of the equation. God loves us all, and that's a very important part of answering the question, "Who am I?"

---

[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/22/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] See the photo on NASA’s web site: http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/imagegallery/image_feature_1249.html . The caption reads: “Apollo 8, the first manned mission to the moon, entered lunar orbit on Christmas Eve, Dec. 24, 1968. That evening, the astronauts-Commander Frank Borman, Command Module Pilot Jim Lovell, and Lunar Module Pilot William Anders-held a live broadcast from lunar orbit, in which they showed pictures of the Earth and moon as seen from their spacecraft. Said Lovell, ‘The vast loneliness is awe-inspiring and it makes you realize just what you have back there on Earth.’”

[3] Cf. James L. Mays, Psalms, 66, where he says that Psalm 8 “reports the wondering reflection that arises when a mortal looks at the heavenly bodies as a result of the Lord’s creation and control” and it “marvels at the attention and importance that God gives to the human being in such a universe.”

[4] Cf. Mays, Psalms, 34: “Because ‘the Lord reigns,’ human beings may and must praise in wonder and joy, pray in dependence and gratitude, and practice the piety of trust and obedience.” Cf. also J. Clinton McCann, Jr, “The Book Of Psalms” New Interpreters Bible IV:711: “the proclamation of God’s reign frames the psalm.”

[5] Cf. Mays, Psalms, 67-68: “The Psalm does not frame the question absolutely and ask, ‘What is man?’ The question is qualified: ‘What is the human being that you, Lord, remember and visit them?’ ‘Remember’ and ‘visit’ are biblical verbs used to speak of the divine response to human finitude and fallibility, the necessary attention God pays to mortals.” He continues, (ibid., 68): ““The psalmist knows about that mortal existence as an Israelite, a member of the covenant people. But his question is not about Israel alone; it is about the entire race. He believes and assumes that God remembers and visits every human, that Israel’s experience with God is the truth about God’s way with all.”

[6] Cf. Mays, Psalms, 69: “The administration of the Lord’s reign in the world extends beyond a messianic king and covenant people to include humanity as a whole. Everybody is involved in the kingdom of God.” Cf. McCann, “The Book Of Psalms” NIB IV:712: “God and humans are partners in the care of creation, because God has made the risky choice to share God’s power!”

[7] Cf. Mays, Psalms, 69, “In the psalm’s world of thought, kingship had an ideal and normative dimension. Dominion involved a pattern of responsibility. Glory belonged to the ruler, but the ruling was to be for the benefit of the ruled….” From that perspective, he interprets the “dominion” given to humankind by saying, “Human beings are to use their power over creatures in a way that serves the purposes and practices of their own sovereign.”

[8] Cf. Mays, Psalms, 70, where he says that in our world “Dominion has become domination; rule has become ruin; subordination in the divine purpose has become subjection to human sinfulness.” Cf. McCann, “The Book Of Psalms” NIB IV: “Apart from the limits of God’s sovereign will, the exercise of dominion is in danger of becoming simply human autonomy, or self-rule. … In other words, dominion without the recognition of God’s claim on us and on the earth becomes domination. To leave God out of the partnership invites disaster.”

[9] Cf. McCann, “The Book Of Psalms” NIB IV:711, where he says that “the character of God’s sovereignty cannot be understood apart from the knowledge that God does choose to be ‘mindful’ and to ‘care for’ humanity; the identity of humanity cannot be understood apart from this relationship with God.”

Not Forsaken

Not Forsaken

John 14:7-14[1]

If you listen to some of the voices in our world, it would seem that if God exists at all, he abandoned this world long ago. There is a significant strain of skepticism in our culture that sees all that’s wrong with this world and concludes that we’re left out here in the middle of the galaxy on our own. The message of doubt and despair seems to overwhelm any hope or faith altogether. The only realities are buying and selling, winning and losing, living and dying. And from this perspective, since death has the final word on all of our lives, then all that we do is ultimately meaningless. It is an approach to life that fundamentally mistrusts everything and everyone, because we are ultimately God-forsaken.

This outlook on life flies in the face of the biblical message. In fact, it would seem that some of those who have contributed most significantly to this kind of pessimism have taken the biblical message and turned it on its head. But the fact remains that the Bible insists that we live in a world that is filled with the presence of the loving God.[2] It may be difficult for us to sense God’s presence, and it may be even more difficult for us to grasp that God is with us. But that is one of the most important reasons why Jesus lived and served, to make it clear to us that God is with us.[3]

One of the problems with this is that, obviously, Jesus is no longer physically present with us. This seems to be a problem that has troubled faithful believers from the very beginning. If we read between the lines as we’re reading some of what the NT has to say about this, it would seem that Jesus’ physical absence was difficult for the first Christians to bear. They looked for him to return in their lifetimes. And when some of the faithful started passing away, those who remained were confused. It would seem that some of them wondered if Jesus had abandoned them.[4]

In our lesson from the Gospel of John for today, that is the question that Jesus addresses with his disciples. In this section of the Gospel, Jesus is preparing them for his departure. If we pay attention to the questions they ask him, we can tell that they themselves—Jesus’ very own followers—were puzzled and even dismayed by what Jesus was trying to tell them.[5] How could Jesus leave them? They had come to believe that he was the Messiah. How was it that he was going away? In their minds, the Messiah wouldn’t go away, he would stay and ascend the throne of David and usher in an age of peace and justice.

Our lesson for today is preceded by Jesus’ announcement that he was going to go to prepare a place for them in his father’s house, assuring them that they knew the way to the place he was going (John 14:1-4). In response, Thomas very likely voiced what many of the others were thinking: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” (John 14:5). I think he was only voicing the questions they were all asking. They had been with him, they had followed him, they had learned from him, and it now seemed barely believable that he would leave them. In fact, it would seem that this problem serves as the backdrop for much of what Jesus had to say to them in this chapter of John’s Gospel.

In response to Jesus’ answer that he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, Philip asks Jesus to “show us the Father” (John 14:8). Jesus answers him by re-emphasizing what he has already asserted time and again: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). One more time, Jesus goes over the basic lesson of his life and ministry: that he had come to make it clear that God’s grace and God’s truth are always with us.

But beyond that, Jesus addressed their concerns by telling them “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever” (John 14:16). The translation “Advocate” is probably not one that communicates with most of us. It has also been translated “Comforter,” “Counselor,” “Helper,” and “Friend.” The truth is that the concept that Jesus was trying to convey probably includes all of those ideas.[6] I think the main point is that the one Jesus was sending to them would be with them in the same way that he had been with them.

This comforter, counselor, helper, and friend that Jesus promised to send is “the Spirit of truth” (John 14:17). He is nothing less than the Holy Spirit of God, the one who makes God’s presence in our lives a reality. But the interesting thing about the way Jesus speaks of the Spirit here is that it seems that the Spirit also makes Jesus’ presence in our lives a reality. In fact, just after our lesson, Jesus assures them that he would not abandon them. The implication is that the Spirit continues Jesus’ presence with those who have trusted in him.[7]

This is a message that starkly contrasts the counsel of despair that says we live in a God-forsaken world.[8] It flies in the face of those who would say we’ve been abandoned and left to our own devices. This message is one that resonates throughout the Bible: God rejoices in his creation. And that means that God will never, ever forsake us. One of the most important reasons why Jesus lived and served and taught as he did was to make it clear to us all that through him, God is with us. And even though Jesus is no longer present physically, we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit because he makes Jesus’ presence with us just as real as he did for the first disciples. The Spirit has been poured out on “all flesh” as a declaration that we never have been and never will be forsaken.

---

[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/15/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, we live in a “God-bathed world.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, God in Creation: A New Theology of Creation and the Spirit of God, 9: “Through the energies and potentialities of the Spirit, the Creator is himself present in his creation. He does not merely confront it in his transcendence; entering into it, he is also immanent in it.”

[3] Cf. Gail R. O’Day, “The Gospel of John,” New Interpreters Bible IX:744: “the incarnation changes everything for the Fourth Evangelist, because through it humanity’s relationship to God and God’s relationship to humanity are decisively altered. The incarnation has redefined God for the Fourth Evangelist and those for whom he writes, because it brings the tangible presence of God’s love to the world.”  Cf. also  Jürgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom, 114-118, says that the incarnation is part of the “eternally self-communicating love of God.” Cf. also Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 240, where he reminds us that the idea of the incarnation is not just a matter of God “pretending” to be a human being, but rather of God fully entering our reality and fully sharing our humanity in order to redeem every aspect of human experience.  

[4] Cf. O’Day, “Gospel of John,” NIB IX:749, where she says that the question that occupies this portion of John’s Gospel is, “Can the disciples still love him, when he has gone?” She continues by saying that this passage “answers yes to this question, but it may be a yes that surprised even Jesus’ first disciples. The disciples can still love Jesus, but neither by clinging to a cherished memory of him nor by retreating into their private experience of him. Rather, they can continue to love Jesus by doing his works (vv. 12-14) and by keeping his commandments (vv. 15-24). That is, when they move outside of their own private experience of Jesus, when they live what Jesus has taught them and demonstrated in his own life, then they will find themselves once again in his love.”

[5] On the Disciples’ lack of understanding, cf. G. R. Beasley-Murray, John, 252; and O’Day, “Gospel of John,” NIB IX:741-42.

[6] Cf. O’Day, “Gospel of John,” NIB IX:747, where she points out that the Greek word transliterated “Paraclete” is based on a verb that “has a wide range of meanings that include ‘to exhort and encourage,’ ‘to comfort and console,’ ‘to call upon for help,’ and ‘to appeal.’ The noun form can mean ‘the one who exhorts,’ ‘the one who comforts,’ ‘the one who helps,’ and ‘the one who makes appeals on one’s behalf.’ The Fourth Evangelist seems to draw on the whole range of meanings in the variety of functions attributed to the Paraclete.”

[7] Cf. Raymond Brown The Gospel According to John XIII-XXI, 644: “the Spirit of Truth is a Paraclete precisely because he carries on the earthly work of Jesus.”

[8] Cf. Gerard S. Sloyan, John, 178, where he paraphrases Jesus’ assurances in the beginning of John 14, “The pain of life, separation, and cross cannot last forever. Live in hope. The present will yield to the future because I will see to it.”

Invited

Invited

Revelation 22:12-17, 20-21[1]

Invitations can be tricky. They always involve the problem of balancing whom to include on the list and whom to leave out. There are some events, of course, where everybody is invited, because that’s just the nature of the occasion. There are other events, however, that call for a more thoughtful approach. Whom do you invite to weddings? Whom do you invite to birthday parties? Just the nature of the event and the costs that can be involved limit the number of people you can in all practicality include. Not to mention the obvious and sticky fact that there may be some people you don’t want to invite. Invitations can be tricky.

When it comes to church-related events, obviously everyone is by definition invited. But I’m afraid the reality is that we don’t always look at things with such an open mind. There are some people whom we may not actually want to show up at our “everyone’s invited” events. They are different from us, whether by race, or ethnic origin, or class, or convictions. And if we’re completely honest about it, we wouldn’t feel comfortable if they showed up. All churches have that dynamic going on. Even churches that proclaim themselves completely inclusive would very likely not welcome representatives from Westboro Baptist Church! Invitations are tricky, even in church.

This challenge extends to our lesson from the book of Revelation for today. As the book comes to a close, it extends what seems to be an unlimited invitation: “let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift” (Rev. 21:17). It resonates with other passages in Revelation that include all people in God’s work of salvation. In one of the worship scenes sprinkled throughout the book, the victorious witnesses proclaim, “All nations will come and worship before you” (Rev. 15:4). And as we saw recently, God announces that his purpose is to “make all things new” (Rev. 21:5).

The challenge stems from the fact that Revelation also contains images that seem equally sweeping in their condemnation of those who refuse to acknowledge God and the Lamb. In our lesson for today, the Risen Christ declares “Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they will have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by the gates” (Rev. 22:14). But immediately afterward he also announces ominously that all those who have aligned themselves with the false claims dominating their world would remain outside the New Jerusalem (Rev. 22:15). This also resonates with other passages in Revelation that seem to exclude those who refuse to repent.[2] After declaring that he is making all things new, God proceeds to condemn those who have refused to line up their lives with God’s purposes, either from cowardice, or from an unwillingness to stay true, and who as a result have lived contrary to God’s ways (Rev. 21:8).

I would say that this “tug-of-war” within the book of Revelation is one of the primary reasons why most of us avoid it. The messages that announce God’s purpose to renew and redeem and restore all things and all people bring us encouragement and hope. The messages of widespread judgment and destruction can be frightening and depressing. The question we face is what to do with this tension if we decide we’re not going to simply ignore Revelation.

The traditional answer has been that God would like for all people to be redeemed, but practically speaking it depends on their choice. That would seem the logical answer, except for one problem. Both the declarations of universal salvation and universal judgment are all-encompassing.[3] “All nations” are said to fall down and worship God and also to curse God and fall under his wrath. Both salvation and judgment leave no one out. That doesn’t seem to lend itself to a “logical” solution.

I think, however, that a better approach is to look at this problem from the perspective of what the Book of Revelation was intended to accomplish.[4] It was written to Christians who were faced with difficult choices. They had to choose, sometimes daily, whether to remain true to their faith and pay the consequences, or to compromise with the “powers that be” in order to survive. In that context, Revelation affirms that it is the purpose of God’s grace to restore all things, to set right all that is wrong, and to bring all people to repentance through the witness of the faithful. But it does not enable us to predict the extent to which that purpose will be accomplished.[5] It leaves the question open, and it does so intentionally, because the Book of Revelation was intended to challenge the believers of that day to remain faithful.

Throughout the history of God’s people, we who identify ourselves with Christ have had an unfortunate tendency toward an exclusive mindset. We have tended to believe that “we” are invited, but that those who differ from us may or may not be. At times we’ve actually insisted that the “others” are definitely not invited. But the Bible’s witness to God’s saving purpose in this world will not allow us to take such an easy way out. In fact, the messages of judgment are meant to remind us that we are responsible for our choices and our actions. They challenge us all to reach for ever greater levels of faithful living. But the messages of salvation assure us that in the incomprehensible wisdom of God, no one is by definition excluded from grace.[6] In the infinite mystery of God’s love, everyone who is thirsty may drink from the waters of life. All are invited!

---

[1] © 2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 5/8/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 102: “The judgments of chapters 16-19 are primarily aimed at destroying the systems—political, economic and religious—which oppose God and his righteousness … . But those who support these systems, …, heeding neither the call to worship God not the threat to those who worship the beast (14:6-11), evidently must perish with the evil systems with which they have identified themselves.”

[3] Cf. Bauckham, Theology of Revelation, 102-3: “John seems content to place indications of the universal conversion of the nations alongside references in equally universal terms to final judgment. But he is not making the kind of statements which need to be logically compatible to be valid. He is painting pictures which each portray a valid aspect of the truth. He depicts the faithful witness of the church leading to the repentance and faith of all the nations. He depicts the world which rejects their witness, unrepentant in its final adherence to the beast, necessarily subject to final judgment. The two pictures correspond to the choice presented to the nations by the proclamations of the angels in 14:6-11. It is no part of the purpose of John’s prophecy to pre-empt this choice in a prediction of the degree of success the witness of the martyrs will have.” Cf. Craig R. Koester, Revelation, 806: “The issue is how to read Revelation’s language. If the vision is taken as a prediction that every human being will be saved in the end, then the warnings of judgment make little sense; conversely, if the visions of judgment are taken as predictions about the complete destruction of kings and nations …, then it is equally hard to explain where the nations and kings in New Jerusalem will come from … .” Cf. also M. Eugene Boring, Revelation, 228.

[4] Cf. Boring, Revelation, 212: “In accord with traditional apocalyptic imagery, books are opened in which the deeds of human beings stand recorded, and people are judged by what they have done. This picture makes human freedom and human responsibility as serious as it can get. What we do matters, and matters ultimately. Yet in this same scene another book is opened, the book of grace, the Lamb’s book of life. Names are written there before the creation of the world, purely as a matter of God’s grace (13:8; 17:8). This picture takes grace with absolute seriousness. … In these two books are pictured the paradox of works and grace, … . We are ultimately responsible for what we do, for it has eternal consequences—we are judged by works. God is ultimately responsible for our salvation, it is his deed that saves, not ours—we are saved by grace.” Cf. similarly, Koester, Revelation, 792: “Judgment is not a purely human affair in which those whose good deeds outnumber their evil deeds are saved and the rest condemned. Neither does God simply choose to redeem some and condemn others. Logically, the tension is awkward, but rhetorically, it shapes the readers’ perspectives in two ways: On the one hand, people are accountable for what they do, so they must not capitulate to evil but resist it. When they fail, the proper response is repentance (22:14). On the other hand, the forces of evil are so pervasive that resistance can seem futile, but the scroll of life gives assurance that salvation is ultimately God’s doing. This gives people reason for hope and perseverance (13:8-10), knowing that the scope of redemption is wide (7:9-17).”

[5] Cf. Boring, Revelation, 228: “John knows the danger of claiming to know too much.” Cf. similarly above, Bauckham, Theology of Revelation, 103. From a slightly different perspective, cf. Koester, Revelation, 806 where he interprets the tension between judgment and salvation in terms of an invitation: “as a vision of the future to which God calls all human beings. Sweeping visions of judgment warn about the devastating consequences of the reign of the beast, and expansive visions of redemption promise a glorious future under the reign of God. Both futures remain open in Revelation; the question is whether people will respond to the message with faith or rejection.”

[6] Cf. Boring, Revelation, 228, where he says that in the end, the tension between judgment and salvation comes down to the faith in “the God whose victory does not depend on ours, who loves us when we do not love him or ourselves, who forgives us when we do not forgive him or ourselves, who believes in us when we do not believe in him or ourselves, who saves us when we do not believe we need saving or are worth saving.” Cf. Koester, Revelation, 806: “The vision of redemption includes all humanity because this is the future to which all humanity is called … .”

All Things New

All Things New

Revelation 21:1-6[1]

It doesn’t take much life experience for us to encounter the phrase, “that’s just the way it is.” Most of us probably heard it first as young children. It was a lesson that we don’t always get our way because “that’s just the way it is.” It’s a lesson that gets reinforced in a variety of ways throughout our lives. There are some things we simply have no control over. If we try to force our own wishes onto those aspects of life, we find ourselves beating our heads against the proverbial wall. So we reach the conclusion that the wise approach is to accept that there’s no point in fighting or resisting, because “that’s just the way it is.”

There can be some wisdom in that approach. There truly are some aspects of our lives over which we have no control, and trying to force them to fit our expectations only winds up being an exercise in futility. And if we keep trying to make these aspects of life conform to our wishes, we learn the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result! But the problem with this kind of outlook is that if we’re not careful, we can go through our whole lives with a kind of resignation that can lead us to give up altogether. “That’s just the way it is” can become a counsel of despair and hopelessness if we let it dominate our outlook on life.[2]

I think the Christians to whom the Book of Revelation was originally addressed very likely had plenty of opportunities to believe in “that’s just the way it is.” Many of them were slaves who had no chance of a better life. All of them lived in a world where the Roman Empire had the first word, the last word, and all the words in between! Anyone who marched to a different tune could find themselves facing a great deal of opposition, if not outright ostracism. Anyone who actively resisted found themselves brutally crushed under the heels of the Roman legions. There were a lot of reasons for those First-Century believers to think “that’s just the way it is.”

As I’ve been discussing the lessons from Revelation during the season of Easter, I hope it has become apparent that one of the reasons the book was written was to create hope for those who felt hopeless. It was written to help those who could see only more of the same oppression and humiliation at the hands of the “powers that be.”[3] As I’ve said before, at the heart of the book is the message that, despite all appearances to the contrary, God’s rule is the true reality in this world. One of the most important ways Revelation kindles hope is by focusing on God as the Creator of all things. The idea is that the God who is powerful enough to create all the heavens and the earth is powerful enough to change “the way it is.” We can trust the God who created all things in the beginning to make all things new in the end.

And so in our lesson for today, the vision of Revelation begins to come full circle, so to speak. John sees the promise of “a new heaven and a new earth” fulfilled (Rev. 21:1). And in this vision of God’s new creation, there’s no more room for “that’s just the way it is.” In fact, the promise of this passage is that God himself comes to dwell with all his peoples in order to see to it personally that all things are set right.[4] And in this passage, the Scripture describes that process by saying, “he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4). In other words, God himself comes among the human family to set aside once and for all “the way it is.”[5]

One striking feature of the book of Revelation is that while there are all kinds of voices that speak, God speaks directly only twice. The first time God speaks, he says, “I am the Alpha and the Omega” (Rev. 1:8). We’ve already seen that this is a kind of promise that just as God’s rule had the first word at creation, so will his rule have the last word in the end.[6] In our lesson for today, God speaks directly again, saying “See, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5).[7] What may not be readily apparent is that the Greek word translated “all things” was used to refer to the entire cosmos. For that reason, I like the translation of the New Jerusalem Bible: “Look, I am making the whole of creation new.” The idea is that God is fulfilling the promise implied in his first word in Revelation: now he is renewing all creation according to his gracious rule.[8] And in case there’s any doubt about whether he is willing or able to actually make good on that, he adds, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

Most of us have had our share of reminders that our world works according to “the way it is.” Some of us have had more than our share. One of the most important reasons for us to hear the message of Revelation is because it does not leave us stuck in a life of “that’s just the way it is.” Revelation is not naïve about the fact that we face certain realities in this world, realities that can be oppressive and humiliating and painful. And there are times when those realities can leave us feeling defeated. But Revelation will not leave us there because it insists that there is more to what God is doing in this world and in our lives. God is working to fulfill promises that will change everything. Promises like “I will wipe away every tear” (cf. Isa. 25:8), and “they will all know me, from the greatest to the least” (cf. Jer. 31:34), and “all will be made alive in Christ,” (1 Cor. 15:22), and “I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5). Our God is working at nothing less than making all things new!

---

[1] ©2016 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 4/24/2016 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, In the End—the Beginning, 93, where he says, “without hope faith crumbles, and reason becomes cynical and unreasonable.” cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 22-26, where he discusses at length “The Sin of Despair.”

[3] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, In the End—The Beginning, 38; he defines “the powers that be” as “the unjust structures in political and economic life which despoil life and disseminate death.”   Cf. also Walter Wink, The Powers that Be, 39, where he calls them “the Domination System.”

[4] Cf. Craig R. Koester, Revelation, 798: “Revelation can use the singular for God’s people collectively (Rev. 18:4), but they come from many peoples (5:9; 7:9); the context pictures the redemption of many nations (21:24, 26; 22:2; cf. Isa 25:6; 56:7; Ps 47:8). “Peoples” is synonymous with “humankind” in 21:3a ….”

[5] This should not be assumed to imply a destruction of the present creation. Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Coming of God: Christian Eschatology, 265: “the new creation presupposes the old one; it is the new creation of all things. ‘Behold, I make all things new’ (21:5) means that nothing passes away or is lost, but that everything is brought back again in new form.” Cf. also M. Eugene Boring, Revelation, 220: “the one who does not quench a smoking wick or break a bruised reed (Isa. 42:3; Matt. 12:20) does not junk the cosmos and start anew—he renews the old and brings it to fulfillment. … God does not make “all new things,” but “all things new” (21:5). Cf. further Koester, Revelation, 795: “Revelation refers to the final defeat and judgment of the wicked by fire (Rev. 17:16; 19:20; 20:9-10, 14), but not to a final end of the world. … The book focuses on the destruction of earth’s destroyers (11:18), not on the destruction of the earth itself.” He continues by pointing out (ibid., 803) that “Interpreters often ask whether the new creation is a renewal of the first one … or a replacement of it … . But these categories are inadequate. On the one hand, there is a clear discontinuity between the first heaven and earth that pass away and the new heaven and earth that appear. The new is not a natural outgrowth of the old; it comes from God’s act of new creation. On the other hand, there is also continuity, in that people who live in the present creation have a future in the new creation.”

[6] Cf. G. B. Caird, A Commentary on the Revelation of St. John the Divine, 266, where he says that if the “end” in Revelation seems less than final it is because, “The end is not an event, but a person.” Cf. also Boring, Revelation, 215: “Shining through the varied pictures of ‘what it will be like’ is the conviction that John shares with Paul that at the end of the historical road God will be ‘all in all’ (… 1 Cor. 15:28). … God himself is the eschatological reality who embraces all things.” Cf. also Koester, Revelation, 807: “The book reveals what ‘the end’ is by revealing who God is. … The flow of the visions discloses the character of God, who makes all things new (21:5).” Cf. further Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 27: “God precedes all things, as their Creator, and he will bring all things to eschatological fulfillment. He is the origin and goal of all history. He has the first word, in creation, and the last word, in new creation.”

[7] Cf. Koester, Revelation, 806: “Finally, God speaks in what is often considered the rhetorical climax of the book (21:5; … ). Although John understands his entire text to be a revelation from with [sic] God (1:1), God rarely speaks directly. … God clearly spoke in the introduction, where he said, ‘I am the Alpha and Omega’ (1:8). Now he speaks again in similar words so that his speech frames the book.”

[8] Cf. Boring, Revelation, 192: “God had never abdicated his kingship, nor had he been dethroned despite the pretensions of earthly claims to sovereignty. Yet usurpers had falsely operated in this world as though they were its rightful lords. The eschatological events now beginning only disclose what had always been the case: God alone is the true sovereign of the world.”