May 26, 2019
Hope Lutheran Church
Rev. Mary Erickson
Rev. 21:10, 22-22:5; John 14:23-29
Imagine
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
John Lennon wrote a song that has come to be one of the most recognized and acclaimed songs of the 20th century. “Imagine” was written in 1971. When he wrote it, the Vietnam War was raging on. Civil rights were still being sought for women and minorities. And in this swirl of unrest, John sang about the possibility of peace for humanity and the world. Imagine, he invites us, imagine a world without religion or nationalism or possessions to divide us! There’s no need for greed or hunger. The song stirs our hearts. It has a centering effect on us. It calls us to what should be, what can be.
Lennon begins his song, “Imagine there’s no heaven.” Ironically, the vision he invites us to see sounds pretty much like a heaven, a heaven on earth!
Nearly two thousand years earlier, another man named John also imagined. He imagined a vision of heaven. St. John wrote a book called Revelation.
John utilized a writing style from the Old Testament called apocalyptic literature. Apocalyptic literature was used during periods of tremendous distress and uncertainty. John found himself living through just such a time. The early Christian community was being persecuted under the reign of the Roman emperor Domitian. John himself had been exiled to the remote island of Patmos.
Apocalyptic literature utilized wildly figurative imagery and cryptic language. The times were surreal, and so it demanded surreal imagery. John wrote about Babylon and a Beast. What he really meant was Rome and the Emperor. But he was living in a time when talking about Rome and its Emperor could get you killed. So he wrote instead about Babylon and a Beast. But the Christian communities who read John’s Revelation knew exactly what John was really saying.
John goes into great detail to describe a cosmic tribulation. It includes dragons and plagues, bowls of wrath and horsemen. But after all is said and done, the seemingly endless reign of terror and evil come to an end. Every lasting enemy is defeated. And then he describes the new heaven and the new earth.
Our reading today from Revelation describes that new Jerusalem. John describes it as a four-square city. Like ancient cities, this new Jerusalem is surrounded by a wall. But the gates, he says, the gates remain open all day. They are never shut during the day. AND, he adds, there’s no night. It’s always day. That means the gates are perpetually open. The nations, all the nations, are free to enter into this new Jerusalem.
John invites us to imagine with him. He writes of a heaven where God will wipe away every tear. There will be no need for tears, for death and pain will no longer be a reality. All evil, you see, has been eliminated. All the injustice and deception and violence framing this world have vanished. And so their resulting suffering and pain and anguish are no longer present. Mourning has been replaced by dancing. It’s a brotherhood of man. And God dwells with us.
John imagines a reality with no night and no darkness. There’s only the brilliant light of God and God’s perfect peace. John also describes the River of Life. Its crystal-clear waters flow from the throne of God and course their way through the streets of the heavenly kingdom.
In ancient times, a channel did run down the streets of cities. But the waters flowing there were anything but crystal clear. The channel was intended for waste water – fetid and diseased and undrinkable.
But this water flows crystal clear. The source of this water is God. It’s a river of life and of justice. Life and justice flow from God. Justice rolls like a river and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. They are clear and fresh. Like a mountain spring, they quench the thirst of those who yearn for healing and to be whole.
The tree of life has rooted itself right next to these crystal waters. It drinks of this righteous water flowing from the divine seat. And John says its leaves are “for the healing of the nations.” John lived in a time when the use of poultices was a common healing practice. The leaves and barks of various plants were known for their medicinal properties. This tree of life, John says, this tree that drinks from the clear waters of God’s righteousness, this tree provides leaves that can heal all the wounds of all the world’s nations.
John imagines a time when all the strife facing his brothers and sisters in faith will cease. He provides a vision of life abundant, where strife is no more, where the perfect peace of God spreads over and fills all things.
Some may say he’s a dreamer. John is pitching pie-in-the-sky. A fair lot of good his heaven will do us now! But there’s something dangerously threatening in John’s imaginings! For evil does not have the final word. The systems that oppress and extort for personal gain and power are finite. Their time is limited! Their days in the sun will come to an end. And God’s will shall overcome.
John also wrote one of our four gospels. We hear also from his gospel today. The setting is the night when Jesus will be arrested. He’s together with his disciples. As he prepares for what is about to unfold, he leaves his disciples with words of promise. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give you as the world gives. Don’t let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.”
Jesus promises peace, a peace that passes human understanding. It won’t be like the world’s peace. It will be REAL peace.
John’s readers would have known all about the world’s peace. They lived under the Pax Romana. Rome ruled the entire region surrounding the Mediterranean. And they reigned supreme. Rome had subjugated and tamed all the peoples in the lands where they ruled. In their total control, life had a certain order to it. There weren’t any outbreaks of war and commerce flowed freely. There was a certain type of peace.
But Rome’s peace came at a hefty cost. Roman governors ruled with a heavy hand. The ever-present Roman soldiers were backed by all the strength of the royal war machine. Roman tax collectors extorted huge profits.
Oppressive systems have a way of exerting a peace that is no peace. Their peace doesn’t unify; it subdues. It doesn’t embrace; it crushes.
But Jesus’ peace is substantially different than the world’s peace. Jesus brings the peace that comes from the throne of God. It’s the peace that holds and cherishes and respects all things. It sees the inherent goodness and worth of every person, every created being. This is the peace tied with justice, for there can be no true peace without justice; Jesus’ peace opens the place where righteousness and peace kiss one another. Jesus’ peace is the balm in Gilead to heal the wounded soul. It preaches peace to those who are far off and peace to those that are near.
This is the peace Jesus gives to his disciples and to us. It’s the peace that issues forth from his open tomb. It’s the peace that has defeated the forces of death. It’s not the world’s peace; it’s the peace of heaven, with us now.
In that peace, we now live as Christ’s community of peacemakers. We dwell in his peace and we bear his peace into the world so loved by God. May the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, so spark our imaginings to live and realize the peace of Christ. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
