Sixth Sunday of Easter
Revelation 21:10; 22:22:5
May 9, 2010

Careful to Dream

        Remember King Midas? (No, he’s not in the Bible.) King Midas wanted to be rich, so he wished that everything he touched might turn to gold. He got his wish, but soon regretted it. When he accidentally turned his own son to gold, he begged to lose the Midas touch.

        Be careful what you long for. You might get it, and with it some unintended consequences.

        We should be careful what we long for, but we cannot keep from longing, can we? Surely God is not satisfied with the world as it is.

        The prophet Amos dreamed of a time when God will let "justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-rolling stream" (Amos 5:24). Whether you hear that as a threat or a promise depends very much on where you stand in relationship to God and your neighbors.

        The prophet Isaiah dreamed of the day when "The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them (Isaiah 11:6). God is still working God’s purpose out. The earth is not yet full of the glory of God "as the waters cover the sea" (Isaiah 11:9).

        On these Sundays in Eastertide we have been reading snippets from the Book of Revelation. Now there’s a bagful of dreams for you. Some of the images in Revelation are the stuff of nightmares. They send you groping for the bedside lamp and for a glass of water. Other images in Revelation assure us that everything will be alright – that God will wipe away every tear from every eye, and there will be no more mourning or crying or pain (Rev. 21:4).

        Because the Book of Revelation is a such a grab-bag of dreams, Christians tend to pick and choose the dreams they want to live by. Take for instance those pop eschatology novels that are so popular these days. They like the idea of true believers being snatched out of the world while everyone else is left behind to suffer and struggle. They glory in the image of Christians lounging in stadium sky boxes while the battle of Armageddon is waged below.

        With the right combination of passages from Revelation and other parts of the Bible, you can pretty much paint any picture you like – provided that you ignore those passages that cast a different light on God’s intentions.

        Unlike those who dream of escape into heaven, the seer of Patmos dreams of heaven coming to earth. For John, the reign of God comes down from heaven as a beautiful city, the new Jerusalem. And what a city it will be!

        Unlike the old Jerusalem, there will be no temple here. There is no need for a temple. Its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. God is immediately present in this new Jerusalem. "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his people, and God himself will be with them . . . " (Rev. 21:3).

        No worries about coal-fired verses gas-fired generators for this city. It has no need for sun or moon or compact fluorescent bulbs, "for the glory of God is its light."

        And, most wondrous of all for ancient people and for us, this city has no need for security systems. No gates to shut. No alarms to activate. No metal detectors to pass through. "Its gates will never be shut by day – and there will be no night there." No need for homeland security. No reason to shut anyone out or turn anyone away.

        And through those open gates, John dreams, the rulers of the earth will come streaming. Not as captives and P.O.W’s. Not as enemy combatants, not as hooded, naked detainees robbed of the last semblance of human dignity, but as people drawn to the light. The glory and honor of the nations will flow into the new Jerusalem, John dreams, not through conquest, but because God is there, and God is drawing all the nations toward God’s self.

        John’s dream is much like that of the writer of Psalm 67:

Let the peoples praise you, O God;
Let all the peoples praise you.
Let the nations be glad and sing for joy,
for you judge the peoples with equity
and guide the nations upon the earth.

        A few chapters earlier in Revelation, the kings of the earth were in bed with the Beast; they were enemies of God. Now they are welcomed into the New Jerusalem, incorporated into God’s commonwealth. Watch amazed as Mahmud Ahmadinejad, Benjamin Netanyahu, Barak Obama, and all the rest lay down their weapons, share resources, and follow the Lamb.

        This is John’s dream, John’s vision. Here is "the city set on a hill" which Ronald Reagan so famously appropriated but did not comprehend. Not America, but the New Jerusalem. Not the commonwealth of good guys, but the redeemed of the earth, drawn to the holy city coming down out of heaven so that God can make God’s home with all people.

        We must be careful what we long for, and we must be careful that our dream matches God’s promise, because dreams shape communities and dreams drive mission.

        For instance, if you’re a downtown church, and you dream of escape, you’re not going to have much a mission downtown. (Of course it’s alright to dream of parking spaces, so long as they aren’t out in Southwood.)

        But John offers us a different dream which leads to a different mission. Our mission is to look more like the holy city seen by John, the city which even now, is coming down out of heaven.

        When I read this passage from Revelation, I think of Jimmy Randall. Some of you will remember Jimmy. He died several years ago. He was the most eccentric member of First Presbyterian Church – and that’s saying something.

        Year after year, I would look at that pew under the south gallery and see Jimmy. He would be there every Sunday, dressed pretty much in rags, no matter how many sets of new clothes he was given by fellow church members. Few of us could understand what he said when he spoke, and those of us who visited him at home knew what a ramshackle house he lived in. He’d get up in the middle of my sermon and wander out the door.

        An African-American, Jimmy was both handicapped and sly as a fox. Just like the rest of us, he was both saint and sinner. He’d hobble up to the Table with his one crutch to eat the Bread of Heaven and drink the Cup of Salvation, and it was a great mystery to most of us why he chose to be part of our family.

        To some people, Jimmy seemed a bit scary. When the children’s choir sat in those same pews, some people thought we should ask Jimmy to move. Not Aide Whitaker. She asked Jimmy to be a "pew parent" to her Carol Choir. He readily accepted. "I don’t mind them kids round me," he said (At least that’s what I think he said.) "They’re just chil’ren." I seem to remember that Jesus said very much the same thing.

        Jimmy was an enigma. He was also a sign – a sign of what God is doing in the world, and what Christ wants his church to look like. Even before its arrival in its fullness, Jimmy was very much at home in the New Jerusalem. It is harder for us to keep John’s dream in mind now that Jimmy Lee Randall is walking those streets of gold without his crutch.

        But, beloved in Christ, every time we come to this Table, we dream John’s dream and enact John’s vision. This Table reminds us of our mission, and we believe that Jimmy still joins us here, though we cannot see him save through the eyes of faith.

        Be careful what you long for. Be sure your dream matches God’s promise, because the New Jerusalem is coming. Already it is close enough for us to taste and see. This is God’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.

 

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