“Old Things Made New!”

Acts 11: 1-18 and Revelations 21:1-6

 Seven golden lampshades, six winged creatures covered all in eyes, strange figures standing on the four corners of the earth, cities coming down from heaven, a man with eyes of fire, feet of burnished bronze and a sword coming out of his mouth, and streams of water turning into blood -- it sounds like an over the top modern fantasy game.  Yet these fantastic descriptions are 2000 years old and come from the book of Revelation.

 We are reminded every Sunday that the Bible contains wonderful poetry, poignant love songs, gripping histories, extensive codes of law and pithy wisdom sayings. But it also contains apocalyptic literature with its symbolic visions of mysterious figures and beasts, numerology and extraordinary metaphors, particularly in the book of Revelation.  A man named John -- almost certainly not the same person, who wrote the gospel of John or the disciple John -- wrote the book of Revelation. The book was written during the reign of the Roman Emperor Domitian, while John was exiled on a tiny island in the Aegean Sea called Patmos.  During his reign, Domitian demanded that his subjects address him as “Lord and God” and worship his image. John’s refusal to do this led to his exile.

Revelation was written in a kind of metaphorical code – decipherable by believers but not by the imperial police. Our passage today talks about new heavens and new earths and the New Jerusalem prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. This imagery is strange and pretty incomprehensible on first blush. But it becomes clearer when we remember the context. It was written roughly fifty years after the Jesus’ death. His followers – a tiny group – lead by Peter and Paul had been dispersed well beyond Jerusalem into the towns of Asia Minor. This fledgling group had at best been only tolerated by the authorities and at worst -- as at the time of Domitian -- been subject to harsh persecution. These early Christians were required on pain of death or exile to repudiate their faith and to pledge not simply political but religious loyalty to the Emperor as supreme leader and as a god. The book of Revelation is a book of reassurance and of hope for the persecuted. John reports his divine vision of the final apocalypse after which the Lamb of God (Jesus) will sit at God’s right hand and his followers will share the joys and riches of Heaven. Not surprisingly, the operative word in our passage today and throughout Revelation is “new”.

Then I saw a new heaven and new earth. …

And I saw the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming

down out of heaven from God, prepared as a

bride adorned for her husband. …

And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See

I am making all things new.”  

Because of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, there will be a new day proclaims John.  This day will be a time when tears will be wiped away and death will be no more; crying and pain will have passed away. These words were for those living every day fearing for their lives, under threat of execution or exile. John is saying “hang in there, hold tight to your faith, you will be in heaven one day and all of this will pass away.” This, of course, is a principal promise of the gospels –salvation awaits us. Jesus has invited us – as a people of faith -- to that ultimate heavenly banquet.

          But most of us do not think in those terms. We don’t think of the hereafter or of a heaven beyond time and place. We are much more a people of the moment -- of the here and now. Our lives are generally OK – certainly we are not persecuted for our religious beliefs.   And so visions like those found in Revelation seem like quaint curiosities; they don’t mean much to us. And we certainly don’t live our lives holding onto a promise of a new heaven in an unknown future. This sense that the payoff of faith is so otherworldly, if anything, often contributes to a dispensing with faith. It’s just not relevant.

          To be sure our faith embraces the notion of a new heaven.   But that is not all our faith suggests or that Revelation reveals. It is not by accident that the phrase “See, I am making all things new,” is written in the active present tense. The transformation of life, the salvation that Jesus proclaims and promises is not relegated to some far off time. When we embrace faith and God’s unending forgiveness, we are being made new now -- not simply at some point in the future if we will let it.

What do I mean by this? No matter what you do today – in most fundamental senses -- you will be the same person tomorrow. If you are outgoing today, you will be tomorrow. If you are more creative than analytical today, you will be tomorrow. And yet we can be transformed.  Made New! When I take a piece of metal that appears black and polish it  -- all of a sudden it shines out as the brass that it is. When we fully embrace faith –that is when we really absorb into our marrow that love is more important than power and status and that we are more fully our best selves when we think of others not ourselves and when we forgive others as we want to be forgiven – at that moment it is as if we have been polished by God’s love. That’s what it means to truly follow Jesus and to be made new.  The layers of disappointment, of cynicism and of self-centeredness fall away and that part of us created in God’s image – the loving, the forgiving, the generous parts begin to shine out. That’s the present power of faith (especially the power of Easter) to peal away those layers that hide our shining aspects.

But the transforming power of faith is not simply about peeling away those layers that that have hidden our true selves. It is also -- as I suggested to the kids -- like being repotted. The power of faith is like new soil and new nutriments -- giving us a chance to grow, spread our wings (or roots) and set new buds, to produce new leaves. The transformation is not simply going back to our essence but letting that divine spark, the divine seed within us grow and flourish.  How many of you have ever repotted a plant? Often the change is remarkable. The scrawny plant formerly hemmed in by the edges of the pot - begins to thrive. It is the same plant but now has been nurtured, given the love and freedom to thrive. It is the same old plant; yet, it is being made new. That is what can happen to all of God’s beloved creatures – not at some unknown tomorrow, but today in this moment.

                    X                 X                 X

This is Communion Sunday and in a moment we will celebrate this sacred ritual. It is a complicated sacrament, which symbolizes the message of Revelation—the message about the power of faith in Christ to transform us now, in the present.  Most often we think of Communion as a moment when we remember Jesus sacrifice for us. We take the bread and cup in memory of and out of respect for what Jesus did out of love for us. And yet it is also understood as a glimpse into – indeed, a foretaste of that heavenly banquet that awaits us in the future beyond time. Communion reminds us of that ultimate promise of Jesus as described by the gospel of John 

In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.

If it were not so, would I have told you that

I go to prepare a place for you. … I will come again and

will take you to myself, so that where I am there you may be also. 

But we celebrate communion not simply to remember the past or to glimpse the future but to be transformed now.  We have long moved from being preoccupied with those questions about whether the bread and cup somehow become the body and blood of Christ. And yet there is a present aspect to communion. Those elements embodying the power of divine love and the unlimited scope of divine forgiveness -- can be like that brass polish or that potting soil. In celebrating communion we are taking into ourselves the transforming power of Jesus’ love of us. We are, if we let ourselves – repotted in the soil of that love today. We are transformed; we are made new! Amen