"Both Lamb and Shepherd"

April 21, 2013

Revelation 7:9-17

⁹After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. ¹⁰They cried out in a loud voice, saying, "Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!" ¹¹And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, ¹²singing, "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen."

¹³Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, "Who are these robed in white, and where have they come from?" ¹⁴I said to him, "Sir, you are the one that knows." Then he said to me, "These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. ¹⁵For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. ¹⁶They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; ¹⁷for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."

Sermon: “Both Lamb and Shepherd”

The book of Revelation is the Mel Gibson of the Bible: we know there’s a stroke of genius in there somewhere, but it’s hidden in so much bizarre behavior, it’s hard to find it! 

The church has largely ignored this book (except Tim Lahaye who has used it as a meal ticket in his literalist Left Behind series).  But a great theologian gave it much attention: his name was Johnny Cash.  Let’s have a listen.  This is called “When The Man Comes Around.” 

(Play until 3:00)

Isn’t it remarkable how Johnny describes horrific apocalyptic events in such an upbeat way that you want to two-step?

Before we dive into this strange story of Revelation, there are a few important things to know about this trip of a book. 

First, it was written in 95 CE, and though it is told from the perspective of John on the island of Patmos, it was probably authored by someone who admired John, and so they used his name.  The language style (kind of like the “handwriting” of biblical texts) tells us someone different wrote this vision.  But that doesn’t make it any less important. 

Second, it was written as allegory, which is a helpful corrective to those who think of this book as a blueprint for the End Times.  Several places named are of course real places in the time of the writer, and several creatures are given the characteristics of rulers of that time.  It speaks of God pouring wrath upon the earth in judgment, but this was not meant to be a picture of future vengeance.  It was meant to be a call for present repentance of all people, especially politicians and religious elite of their day.

Third, if it seems weird, it’s mean to be!  It was actually not read in the early church, it was acted out.  We see this in vivid creatures, brilliant colors, repetition of the number 7 and the breaking of the separation between heaven and earth.  In a word, it is dramatic.   Perhaps I should have had Susan Rush come act this out for us this morning! 

And finally, the book of Revelation centers around one main character, one whom Johnny Cash unfortunately left out of his telling of it (favoring those horse characters of course!)…the Lamb, Jesus.

So, when we read this text with all of this in mind, it tells a very different story.  It tells the story of a people who felt that political maneuvering and hypocritical, lukewarm religion were evils that infuriated heaven into responding.  It tells the story of a great multitude from every nation who gathered before the Lamb in the greatest act of resistance to evil: worship. 

It tells of heavenly beings who endured the hardship of earth, described as “they who have come through the great ordeal.”  It is not a story of radical escapism from the pain of the world for the faithful, sitting back and watching as humanity destroys itself, and waiting for sweet Jesus to come and take them away.

It is the story of radical incarnation, where heaven experiences the pain of earth, where the Lamb is not a mute sacrificial offering, but a willing participant in earthly suffering, not just on the cross, but over and over again, wherever evil is at work. 

It tells the story of a time that we desperately long for, especially after the bombings in Boston and explosion in Texas:  a time when hunger and thirst, tears and sorrow will be a distant memory. 

But Revelation’s apocalyptic word is not just a promise for some unknown day when “the man (Jesus) comes around,” to set things right once and for all.  It is a promise for today. 

It is the promise that the One who willingly gives of himself, entering into the greatest heartbreak and injustice this world can offer, isn’t just the Lamb. 

He is also the Shepherd:  the One who leads us beside still, calm waters when the salty waters of tears rise all around and within us. 

The One who restores our soul when it seems irreparably torn by sorrow and injustice. 

The One who brings us the comfort of a rod and a staff to show us how to take the high road and not descend into rocky paths of bickering and hatred. 

The One who sets a table before us in the presence of our enemies, feeding us with hope instead of the fear that we are force-fed from every media outlet these days. 

And he is the One who relentlessly follows us with goodness and mercy all of our days.  We see this in the aftermath of tragedy, though it is often ignored for the more troubling details.

Stories of the goodness of the hundreds of marathon runners who lined up and gave blood at the Red Cross station on site, providing enough for all who were injured.  The story of people like Carlos Arredondo, an immigrant citizen of the U.S. who lost his son in Iraq and now advocates for an end to war.  When the explosions happened, he ran towards the chaos to help, and held a tourniquet on the injured leg of a stranger, saving his life with his bare hands.   There are so many others who we’ll never know: the firefighters, doctors and nurses, clergy and volunteers who work to bring healing, to bring the goodness of God where it is most desperately needed. 

Revelation reminds us that even and especially in times when disaster is all around us, the goodness of the Lamb and Shepherd is still with us, working through ordinary people, bringing light in even the darkest of places. 

So perhaps when life seems most bizarre and unpredictable, when we do not know what the next day will bring, we should embrace the drama of this book, not to find an escape from this life, but to find the strength to follow our Shepherd right into the middle of its pain and brokenness.

We may not be able to wipe every tear away, but we can bring comfort to those around us who silently suffer.  We may not be able to make hunger and thirst extinct, but we can ease someone’s hunger and thirst.  We may not be able to escape the great ordeals of our days: terrorism, cancer, strained relationships and injustice, but strengthened by our Good Shepherd, we can endure them. 

Now is the time to claim that the God of all people is bigger than the violent actions of any one person, that the things that bind us together are much stronger than those which divide us, and that our Lord is both a Lamb entering into suffering willingly, and a Shepherd guiding us through it.  That, in these days and in the days to come, is a revelation.  Alleluia!  Amen.