Winners & Losers: Becoming One (Rev. 7:9-17) Chris Altrock – Aug. 7, 2016

Spoilers

August is my work anniversary month. In August 1998 I started preaching at Highland. This month I celebrate 18 years of preaching at Highland.

And somewhere along the way I got the reputation of giving away the ending of movies. Now, to be fair, there was a time when I probably used movies as sermon illustrations more than I do now. But the reputation I’ve gained as one who gives away the ending of the latest movies is probably not fair. Every time I mention a movie in a sermon now, I see some of you cringe, as if I’m going to reveal some plot twist that will ruin your chance to pay $30 to go see the movie at the theatre this weekend. I’ll admit, I’ve given away some plot twists. But not that many. And, even when I did, it turns out that I was actually doing you a favor.

The psychology department at UC San Diego gave subjects 12 short stories by noted authors. Some had to read the short stories as is. Others were given “spoiler” paragraphs that revealed key information about how the story ended before they started reading the story. Researchers found that those who learned the ending prior to reading the ending actually enjoyed the story more than those who didn’t get the spoiler paragraph.^[1] (So, when I revealed the ending to a movie in a sermon, it was actually for your benefit! You may want to thank me by purchasing me a Malco gift certificate. :))

Here’s what that means: sometimes, we’re actually better off knowing how the story ends, before the story ends. Just think about how true this is at certain times in life. I think Brishan spoke for a lot of people in the United States, and perhaps the world, when he confessed during our late worship service two weeks ago that when he thought about everything going on in this country and around the world over the last few weeks, he almost lost hope. There’s just so much bad stuff going on – racial tension, shootings, terrorist acts, political turmoil. But think about how hopeful these hopeless times would be if we could just see how they’re going to turn out. If we could see that there’s going to be a happy ending then the present would be much more tolerable. Sometimes it would be really nice to know how the story is going to end.

John writes his letter Revelation during a difficult time:

9 I, John, your brother and partner in the tribulation and the kingdom and the patient endurance that are in Jesus, was on the island called Patmos on account of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. (Rev. 1:9 ESV)

John, and those he is writing to, are enduring tribulation. These are trying times. Oh, if only they could see the ending to this story!

In chapters 4-6 John gives them and us a glimpse of heaven. Not so we can kiss this world goodbye. Not so we can be so heavenly minded we are of no earthly good. He reminds us of heaven because he wants us to think of a throne. The throne mentioned in chapters 4-5 is mentioned 38 times in Revelation. John wants us to know that no matter how tough things are on earth, the one on the throne in heaven is still in charge.

In Revelation 6 John sees a lamb, Jesus, who begins to open a scroll that has been sealed with seven seals. Such a sight would have been common in John’s day. A Roman will consisted of a scroll that was sealed by seven witnesses. Hot wax was poured over threads that tied the scroll closed. The witnesses would press their personal seals (usually from signet rings) into the hot wax. No one could open the scroll without breaking the hardened wax seals that held the threads in place and no one could replace the seals without the witnesses rings. Thus no one could tamper with this legal document. A trustworthy executor had to be found to put the will into effect.^[2]

Scholars debate how we are to look at this scroll in Revelation. Does the scroll represent the events of the end times? Does it represent something that was to take place in John’s day? Perhaps it is best to see it as a record of human history in general. The scroll represents human history and God’s work among humans in human history.

Jesus, the lamb, opens the seals, one by one. The first four seals are opened is quick succession–unleashing four riders on four horses. The riders represent war, famine and sickness–three forms of evil that those of us on earth are forced to deal with regularly–social evil, ecological evil, and biological evil.^[3]

When the fifth seal is opened we see how this evil on earth takes a narrow form–religious persecution. Then, with the sixth seal, the evil on earth takes a much broader form–a huge natural catastrophe affects many on earth, causing great suffering.^[4]

Together, the images remind us that life on earth is filled with evil and suffering: social strife, ecological disaster, sickness, religious persecution and natural disasters. Human history is filled with those things. These are trying times. Thus, Revelation 6 ends with this haunting question:

“…who can stand?” (Rev. 6:17)

It seems hopeless. The evil and suffering we experience on earth just seems too much. Too much to stand. It seems hopeless. Who can stand?

It’s just at this point that John is given a picture of the end. We don’t have to wait until Rev. 21-22 to see the end. We actually get a vision of how all of this ends in Rev. 7:

9 After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, 10 and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” 11 And all the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.”

13 Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?” 14 I said to him, “Sir, you know.” And he said to me, “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. (Rev. 7:9-14 ESV)

This scene reminds us of the song we heard in heaven earlier in chapter 5:

And they sang a new song, saying, “Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation (Revelation 5:9 ESV)

And now John sees this very same multitude in heaven. A great multitude from every nation. From all tribes. From all peoples. From all languages. They are standing before the throne. This is the first time in Revelation that anyone besides a celestial being is described as standing before the throne of God. Earlier, the lamb of God was described as standing before the throne. It’s probably resurrection language. These are people from every nation, tribe, people and language who have been raised from the dead and now they are standing before the throne. And together they raise their voices singing “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” This is a worship service. They are standing together. They are singing together.

And what a strikingly different image this is from the one we see on earth. The day I started writing this sermon was the morning after a terrorist plowed a large truck at full speed through a crowd of men, women and children who had gathered on a boardwalk in Nice, France to watch fireworks associated with Bastille Day, their equivalent to our Fourth of July. It was just one more in a long list of tragic events tied to racial and religious division. It was the end of a week in the United States and in Memphis when racial tension had been tremendously high. There are times when it feels like we’re simply having a hard time just co-existing on the planet, times when I wonder “Who can stand?”

But here’s a picture of people of every racial background, every color, every language, every nationality and they are standing together. They aren’t fighting. They aren’t debating. They aren’t suspicious of one another. They aren’t stereotyping each other. They aren’t shooting each other or blowing each other up. They are standing together. And they are worshiping together. It’s a powerful image isn’t it?

That’s the ending to the human story. That’s the final chapter. In spite of all that we do to ourselves and in spite of all that’s done to us, in the end there is an innumerable crowd standing before the throne of God. It’s made up of people of every color. And everything that once divided us is demolished. All violence is vanquished. And we stand as one before the throne of God.

How? In this vision we see two things that makes this unity in the midst of diversity possible.

Common Cleansing

First, unity in the midst of diversity is possible in the end because of a common cleansing.  Every person in this vision, white, black, brown, American, European, African, has been washed by the blood of Jesus. What unites them is a common cleansing. This experience of being washed in the blood of Jesus becomes even greater than their experience of being black or white, than their experience of being American or European. This common cleansing makes unity possible in the midst of diversity.

This is the truth Paul writes of in Galatians:

27 For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. 28 There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Gal. 3:27-28 ESV)

Specifically, this common cleansing in the blood of Jesus does two things. First, it keeps us from thinking too highly of ourselves. That fact that each of us, no matter our skin color, no matter our country of origin, no matter our neighborhood, no matter our zip code, was in need of this cleansing prevents us from thinking too highly of ourselves. It keeps us humble.

Will Willimon tells of teaching the Bible to a group of sixth graders.^[5] They were studying how Peter was just a numskull. They looked at how Peter forsook Jesus and fled when the going got rough at the time of the crucifixion, how Peter had to be rebuked by Paul for his narrow-mindedness. And yet, this was the man whom Jesus called “the rock,” in recognition of Peter’s faith. It was upon this faith that Jesus would build his church. “What does that tell you about Jesus?” Willimon asked the sixth graders. “It tells me that Jesus was a lousy judge of character,” said one of the sixth graders.

There’s some truth in that. Not about Jesus. But about Peter. And about all of us. We’ve all got lousy character. That’s what unites us. We’re all broken. That’s what binds us together. It doesn’t matter what color our skin is, the heart underneath it is the same–deceitful, torn, and not always dependable. We all come into this as people in need of cleansing. Every one of us. And this common cleansing keeps us humble. It keeps us from thinking that somehow we are better than some other income bracket, some other zip code, some other skin color, some other nationality, some other language speaker.

Second, this common cleansing keeps us from thinking too little of others. That fact that this precious blood of Jesus, this blood of the lamb, the only son of God, was given for the cleansing of those who do not share my skin color or my country of origin or my zip code keeps me from thinking too much of myself and too little of them. Because suddenly they are remarkably valuable. This blood speaks to the value and worth of every single human being because it was shed for every single human being.

Will Willimon tells of a five year old he befriended who, on the occasion of his five year old birthday, was asked, “What kind of party do you want to have?”^[6] “I want everyone to be a king or a queen.” Clayton said. So, he and his mother went to work fashioning a bunch of silver crowns (cardboard and aluminum foil), purple robes (crepe paper) and royal scepters (a stick painted gold). On the day of the party, as the guests arrived, they were each given their royal crown, robe and scepter and thus were dressed as a king or a queen. It was a regal sight–all kings and queens. Everyone had a wonderful time. That evening, as Clayton’s mother was tucking him into bed, she asked him what he wished when he blew the candles out on his birthday cake. “I wished,” he said, “that everyone in the whole world could be a king or queen–not just on my birthday, but every day.”

Willimon points out that, in a way, that wish comes true for each person when they are washed in the blood of the lamb. That is Peter’s point when he writes these words:

9 But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10 Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. (1 Pet. 2:9-10 ESV)

This common cleansing keeps us from thinking too little of others. It means that God thought so much of that person with a skin color different than mine, with an accent different than mine, with a zip code different than mine, with a last name different than mine than he gave his one and only son, the blood of that son, so that person could be cleansed. He made each person a king, a queen.

This common cleansing is what makes this ending to the story possible. Unity in the midst of diversity is possible in the end because of a common cleansing.

Common Cause

Second, unity in the midst of diversity is possible in the end because of a common cause.

Each person, regardless of skin color, nationality, zip code, income or background is holding a palm branch in his/her hands. We might immediately think of the palm branches held by the crowd as Jesus entered Jerusalem at his “triumphal entry.” In the ancient world, these were a symbol of military victory. When Jewish rebels engaged in war against Rome, they minted coins and on those coins they printed palms.^[7] When Simon the Maccabee drove the Syrian forces out of Jerusalem he was feted with music and the waving of palm branches. The Romans themselves used palms on their coins as a symbol of military victory.^[8]

What does this mean? This means that those in this vision have been at war. They’ve been in battle. They’ve been engaged in an epic struggle. But not against each other. With each other against something else. They’ve not been sitting idly on their hands. They’ve not been fighting each other. They’ve been side by side, fighting together, against a common enemy.

From the beginning, John’s been given us hints about this in his letter. He begins with these words:

To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood 6 and made us a kingdom (Rev. 1:5b-6 ESV)

We’ve not simply been cleansed. We’ve been made a kingdom. We’ve been enlisted to advance a new kingdom. We’ve been called into the service of a new king to expand the borders of his reign.

Revelation 1 ends with a vision of Jesus standing among 7 golden lampstands:

20 As for the mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand, and the seven golden lampstands, the seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches. (REv. 1:20 ESV)

Those in John’s vision have been acting as lampstands, acting together as light in the dark world, engaged in a battle against the darkness in the world.

As history unfolded, symbolized in the opening of the seals on the scroll, and as wars have happened, as sickness has happened, as famine has hit, as natural disasters have hit, those in John’s vision have engaged. They’ve battled to help. They’ve brought aid and assistance. They’ve stood firm and helped others stand firm. That’s what they’ve been doing. The scenes just before Rev. 7 show evil being unleashed in the world. And what those in John’s vision have been doing is battling that evil. They’ve not just been hiding behind closed doors and hoping to ride out the storm. They’ve gone out in the midst of the wars, in the midst of the famines, in the midst of the natural disasters and they’ve fought evil on the frontlines, and they’ve been victorious. They’ve defeated it. And they’ve done so together.

Several weeks ago I had the chance to join about two hundred pastors from the Memphis area. We listened as the interim police director from Memphis Mike Rallings spoke. “I deal with evil every day,” he said. Out there on the streets of Memphis, as he deals with domestic disturbance, murder, rape, drugs, and a host of other things, he summarized it in that way: “I deal with evil every day.” But then he challenged those of us who lead churches. He said, “There’s something only churches can do that I cannot do. Only churches can put the love of God in a human heart. We need the churches to get out of the shadows and on to the streets and do what only they can do.” I was moved by that challenge. Because no truer theology was ever spoken. It’s what John is showing us right here with the image of people holding palm branches. The vision he shows us is one of churches who, in a world filled with massive evil–war, sickness, famine, natural disasters–refused to remain safe and in the shadows. Instead, they got out in the streets. They went out and fought the evil. And they won. That’s what those palm branches stand for.

And here’s the important point–they did all that together. Black, white, brown and every color on the spectrum fought in this great cause together. Hand in hand they engaged the evil of war. Hand in hand they engaged the evil of sickness. Hand in hand they engaged the evil of famine. Hand in hand they engaged the evil of natural disasters. Unity in the midst of diversity was possible because they shared that common cause. Their common cause was greater than any skin color, income, educational disparity, or any other factor that might divide them. Because they were so busy fighting engaged in a common and world-changing purpose, they had no time to feud and fight and fuss with each other.

We get to see the end of the story before the story finishes. It’s a hopeful ending. It’s a joyful ending. People of every color, from every nation, from all backgrounds, standing before the throne of God. How is this unity in diversity possible? It’s possible because of a common cleansing and because of a common cause.

And the great thing is that we don’t have to wait till the end to see it to become a reality. And as we affirm that, build on that, and prioritize that, that fairy tale ending becomes a reality in the here and now. It’s not just something we wait for. It’s something we begin to experience in the here and the now.