Presence and Promise: The Center of Our Universe

The book of Revelation. What comes to mind when you think of this book? Maybe it’s the Left Behind series so popular a few years ago talking about the end of the world and the so-called rapture. Or maybe it’s all of the bizarre imagery in the book, ideas and word pictures that seem nearly impossible to interpret. Or maybe it’s 666 - the anti-Christ and the many people that have been identified as this being. Or maybe you’ve just never read it because, as one member told me, it just scares the bejesus out of her. 

Today, we are in the first of five Sundays in this book. This apocalyptic writing. Yet, it is more than this. So much more. It’s also a book of worship. As we read through selected passages, you will hear words that sound familiar to you, words that we have sung or spoken in our worship in the Church for over two millenia. 

It’s also an epistle - a letter to the Church. Originally addressed to the seven churches in Asia Minor to prepare them and comfort them and challenge them, it is really a letter for the whole Church, the universal church. A letter that uses picture language, not to conceal, but, ultimately, to reveal. That opens with this claim - that it is “a revelation of Jesus Christ.” A revelation given to John that is intended to show us God’s ultimate mission and purpose for the world. 

We begin in Revelation, chapter 4.

After this I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, “Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.” At once I was in the spirit, and there in heaven stood a throne, with one seated on the throne! And the one seated there looks like jasper and carnelian, and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald. Around the throne are twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones are twenty-four elders, dressed in white robes, with golden crowns on their heads. Coming from the throne are flashes of lightning, and rumblings and peals of thunder, and in front of the throne burn seven flaming torches, which are the seven spirits of God; and in front of the throne there is something like a sea of glass, like crystal.

Around the throne, and on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind: the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with a face like a human face, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without ceasing they sing,

“Holy, holy, holy,
the Lord God the Almighty,
    who was and is and is to come.”

And whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to the one who is seated on the throne, who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall before the one who is seated on the throne and worship the one who lives forever and ever; they cast their crowns before the throne, singing,

“You are worthy, our Lord and God,
    to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
    and by your will they existed and were created.” --Rev. 4:1-11 (CEB)

I’d like to begin today speaking about the context in which this book was written. The seven churches were churches all of which were likely planted by Paul. These were the seven churches of Asia Minor (present day Turkey): Ephesus. Smyrna. Pergamum. Thyatira. Sardis. Philadelphia (not in Pennsylvania). Laodicea. 

The number seven is the number of completeness, a number that figures prominently in all of John’s writings. The seven days of creation. The seventh day of the week, made holy by God as a day of rest. The seven clean animals Noah was commanded to bring in the ark. The seven years centered around the Year of Jubilee. Over and over again, we see the number seven used in scripture, intended to suggest wholeness.

This letter, although addressed to the seven churches, is really intended for the whole church, the universal church. A quick glimpse of these letters in the chapter preceding today’s text tells us that the positives and negatives of church life then are really no different from church life today. 

Ephesus is a congregation that is more interested in truth than in love. A church that has abandoned the love that first brought them together. Unable to distinguish between good theology and bad theology without becoming hateful. 

Smyrna is a persecuted church, rejected by people they had considered their friends, that has lost its privileged status as a “legal” religion and now faces the very real threat of persecution. 

Pergamum has also known persecution and martyrdom. It has experienced external pressure from the government, as well as, internal pressure from its own members to conform to the wishes of the state. 

Thyatira had secret societies and a fascination with a type of spiritualism that John describes as “the deep things of Satan.” He warns them about playing with people’s spirituality. 

Sardis is a church that has a great community reputation as a church alive and active. But, behind its facade, this church is dead. Only going through the motions. With little substance to its witness. Fooling everyone, including themselves. Because it is no longer a church able to tell the difference between real Christian witness and useless religious rituals and beliefs.

Laodicea is a wealthy, self-sufficient church. It’s a “show” church. Fat, smug, self-satisfied. Free of controversy. But neutral, lukewarm and paralyzed. Financially secure, it is spiritually useless. 

Only one of the seven churches escapes John’s wrath. Philadelphia. It’s not a fat church. Not self-sufficient. Not financially secure. Yet it too is under pressure to conform to the religion of the Roman empire and offered special status if it cooperates. The members of this church, though, have found the cost of power too high. And they have decided to remain true to the name of the Crucified One. As a result, they, too, have been rejected and now face persecution.  

Seven churches. Each different, yet all of them somewhat similar. Which of these seven churches is like a church we know? Better yet, which of these seven are we? Or perhaps, we can find a bit of ourselves in all of them.

The book of Revelation is intended to be either a comfort or a challenge. A comfort to those experiencing persecution because they have refused to follow the religion of the state. Or a challenge to those churches who simply want to get along to go along. It is a book that reminds us - especially in today’s text - that God the Creator, and none other, is at the center of the universe. Not us. Not our culture. And, particularly, not the powers and principalities of our world. 

This is the meaning of the vision in the throne room in today’s reading. God, the creator, is seated on the throne. God looks like jasper and carnelian - stones of paradise from Ezekiel. The throne is surrounded by a rainbow, recalling the promise to Noah of God’s commitment to show mercy to every living creature. There are the twenty-four elders representing the heavenly court - the community of faith gathered around God in heaven. There’s lightning and thunder, images that represent God’s awesome power in nature. Finally, there are four living creatures which, for John, represent all living things. Notice that the one with the human face - representing all humanity - is not at the center. These beings join the elders, all of creation, and all the people of God, day and night praising the Creator. 

This is how the universe is ordered. With no human or anything else at its center other than God, the Creator. It is a reminder for us that no matter the chaos or difficulty or persecution or self-induced mess we may experience, God is at the center of our world, our universe, the whole cosmos. And God is at work, bringing about a new heaven and a new earth. And nothing. Nothing will separate us from God, ​​the Lord God the Almighty, who was. And is. And is to come. Amen.

Preached August 8, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Goshen, and Third, Louisville.

11th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Revelation 4:1-11, John 17:1-5

Revelation of the Son of Man: Our Bright Center

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
    who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. --Matthew 2:1-12 (NRSV)

What a day - as we watch our nation’s capital under assault! 

I’m struck by the similarity of our situation today and that of the time from our reading in Matthew. The magi have travelled from afar. Following a star. Not knowing where it will lead. But understanding its importance,that it is connected to the long-promised Messiah. This king who has been promised to the Jewish people for centuries.

They land in Jerusalem. The center of all Judean life. They seek help from political leaders, wondering if they might know where this child, now most likely near the age of 2 - where he might be located. The goal of these magi? To honor him with gifts. And to worship him.  

But Herod is threatened by this. Not them, but this child, this promised king. Because Herod has a different way of seeing the world: that it revolves around him. His power. His privilege. His city. He is willing to lie and kill to keep the world the way he wants it to be. And he consults religious authorities - not for guidance - but to support his view and his actions. Herod is all about himself. His power. And preserving it. 

We may often be like Herod, centered on ourselves. On the things we want. Or the things we think. Or the things we believe. Often, like Herod, using religion for our own purposes. And, as we watch tonight the events happening in our nation’s capital, I daresay that we are not alone in this. Because this is the human way. The way inherent in us since the very beginning.

But, if we will listen carefully, this story reconstructs our world. The magi, representing those many nations, do come. But the light they see leads them finally not to the city, but to a village; not to a palace, but to a house; not to a king, but to a child; and their gifts foretell this child’s death. The child, who will grow up to be our crucified and risen Lord Jesus, who is the very mystery of God revealed, draws us and all things into God. There is our center - Jesus Christ. Not Herod. Not our national leaders. But Jesus Christ, the very presence and glory of God come to us. That center that is present wherever this word is heard: in our church. In our own homes. Here in this online place. Where we gather, where scripture is read, where we pray for all the nations - not just our own. The center, which is present in the places of our neighbors in need, with whom Christ himself identifies. 
So, let the star of these texts lead you. They will show you a whole new way to see the world. One that is centered on God. And not on us. One that does not rely upon human power, but on God’s power. And one that, no matter what happens in our world, whether it be pandemic or coup or any other trouble, will never abandon or forsake us. But, instead will help us find a way through. 

Arise. Shine. For your light has come. 

Preached online on January 6, 2021, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, and Third Lutheran, Louisville.

Epiphany

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Chasing Temples

Now King Hiram of Tyre sent his servants to Solomon, when he heard that they had anointed him king in place of his father; for Hiram had always been a friend to David. Solomon sent word to Hiram, saying, “You know that my father David could not build a house for the name of the Lord his God because of the warfare with which his enemies surrounded him, until the Lord put them under the soles of his feet. But now the Lord my God has given me rest on every side; there is neither adversary nor misfortune. So I intend to build a house for the name of the Lord my God, as the Lord said to my father David, ‘Your son, whom I will set on your throne in your place, shall build the house for my name.’

Then Solomon assembled the elders of Israel and all the heads of the tribes, the leaders of the ancestral houses of the Israelites, before King Solomon in Jerusalem, to bring up the ark of the covenant of the Lord out of the city of David, which is Zion. All the people of Israel assembled to King Solomon at the festival in the month Ethanim, which is the seventh month. And all the elders of Israel came, and the priests carried the ark. So they brought up the ark of the Lord, the tent of meeting, and all the holy vessels that were in the tent; the priests and the Levites brought them up. King Solomon and all the congregation of Israel, who had assembled before him, were with him before the ark, sacrificing so many sheep and oxen that they could not be counted or numbered. Then the priests brought the ark of the covenant of the Lord to its place, in the inner sanctuary of the house, in the most holy place, underneath the wings of the cherubim. For the cherubim spread out their wings over the place of the ark, so that the cherubim made a covering above the ark and its poles. The poles were so long that the ends of the poles were seen from the holy place in front of the inner sanctuary; but they could not be seen from outside; they are there to this day. There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets of stone that Moses had placed there at Horeb, where the Lord made a covenant with the Israelites, when they came out of the land of Egypt. And when the priests came out of the holy place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord. 1 Kings 5:1-5; 8:1-13 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you on this 500th anniversary of the Reformation from the God of Jacob, the Lord of hosts, our refuge and our strength. Amen.

What an amazing day this is, isn’t it? It is not often that we able to participate in and celebrate such milestone anniversaries in the church. And it’s not often that we, in particular as Lutherans, experience one as significant as this one--the 500th anniversary of the posting of the 95 theses on the church door in Wittenburg.

So, it may seem that our text today--the story of the building and dedication of the temple by King Solomon--might be an unusual one for today. After all, should we be immersing ourselves in Romans--Paul’s letter in the New Testament that was so crucial to Luther’s breakthrough understanding. Or perhaps, it should be Psalm 46, the words that were the inspiration for Luther’s hymn, A Mighty Fortress, which we sang earlier and which is like a national anthem for us Lutherans.

Instead, today, we are considering Solomon. Solomon--king of Israel. Solomon--son of King David. 

In last week’s lesson David, Solomon’s father, had just been anointed by Samuel as king. By the time of today’s story, David is no longer alive. Yet, it was David, considered Israel’s greatest king, who reigned for 40 years over Israel, and who, during his reign, finally brought Israel into a time of peace and prosperity. David--this great king of Israel, who had, yes, stumbled badly along the way--yet, who with Bathsheba produced a son who would continue his dynasty. King Solomon.

There are four primary markers that characterize Solomon’s kingship over Israel--his extraordinary wisdom, his remarkable prosperity and wealth, his accomplishment of building the temple, and his penchant for marrying foreign women.

Today, our focus is on the building of the temple. 

Solomon had been chasing this idea of building a temple for some time. Although the idea began with his father, as Israel grew and prospered under Solomon’s reign and his kingdom experienced peace on every border, Solomon decided that it was time. That it was time that a temple must be built as God’s dwelling-place.  

It began on a positive note. It began with a desire that God would be at the center of the community, that worship of God would be central to the community, and that, in this important place, God would dwell. 

And, yet, there was a downside to this building. We learn in the chapters in between our reading today that it was built with forced labor from among the Israelites. And that it was funded through heavy taxation on the people. That, in order to create this grand structure, there was an oppressive price to pay on the part of many of the people.

In Luther’s day, Pope Leo X also chased the idea of building a temple. He sought to build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome--a glorious, imposing and important tribute to the power and presence of God. A place where God might dwell. 

Yet, as with the construction in Solomon’s time, there was an oppressive price to be paid as funds were raised for this. In fact, the fund-raising was unscrupulous, particularly by Johann Tetzel, a German Dominican monk. It was Tetzel’s act of selling forgiveness that led to Luther’s challenge to the papacy. It was a challenge to Pope Leo to reclaim the focus of worship--that worship should be focused on the God who claims us and who calls us. It was Luther’s call to reclaim this focus in the face of practices that had become so oppressive to the people that led to the Reformation.

Chasing temples and the building of temples dedicated to God--well, it always starts out with the best of intentions. We want to do something great for God. “The glory of the Lord fills the house of the lord--I have built you a place to dwell in forever,” Solomon proclaims as the temple is dedicated.

And, yet, it inevitably all falls apart. We, human beings, inevitably end up creating a structure that fails. As much as Solomon and Pope Leo were trying to do something good in their own times, the structures they built eventually become corrupt and oppressive to the people. 

Our own church structures today are in need of reform. We are in a time when it is no longer the cultural expectation that one go to church. Our congregations continue to shrink. Yet, we in this post-Christendom time continue to operate under an old model--one that may have worked in the 1950’s, but which will not work now. We are in need of our own reforming to find new, more efficient and faithful means of participating in God’s mission.

As long as we, like Solomon and Pope Leo and all those before us--as long as we continue to chase temples. To chase places in which we seek to contain God. Places that eventually become oppressive and ineffective and that lose God as their center. As long as we continue to do this, well, the need for reform will continue to exist. 

Jesus dealt with this in his time. In our Gospel today from John 2, Jesus was dealing with the questions of a deeply flawed institution--a second temple built to glory God that had become corrupted and lost God as its center. Jesus is the one--the only one--who does the reforming. Jesus is the one who enters into the temple. Jesus is the one who cleanses it, an action that will raise questions about his authority. Jesus is the one who responds with these words, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

You see, the true place of God’s presence is a person, rather than any building. Any structures we might create are transient. God’s presence is embodied in one person--Jesus Christ. Christ is at the center of our worship. Christ is the mark of our identity. Christ is the person who binds us together in community. In proclaiming these words--”In three days I will build it up!”--Christ begins a profound word of reformation. A reformation that is reshaping the lives of people around the center--around God’s presence in the crucified and risen Christ.

Over these past few weeks, we’ve been talking about our own ministry here. We’ve been asking each of you to prayerfully consider how you might give more to our ministry, both financially and of your time. In just a few moments, we will be asking you to present your pledges for 2018.

These requests haven’t been intended to oppress. They aren’t intended to guilt you into giving more of your money and resources. Or more of your time and talent.

Instead they are an opportunity. A moment in time for each of us to prayerfully look at our lives and the life of this congregation and to re-form ourselves. To re-focus. To re-center on the crucified and risen Christ--in each of our lives and, particularly, in this place. And to stop chasing building temples and seeking to contain God. But, instead, to re-commit ourselves and our ministry to a God for whom there are no limitations. And to be prepared to be changed and reshaped in a way we could never have imagined. Just as with the Reformation some 500 years ago.  

May God grant it. Amen.