Who Are These?
Children's sermon
Illustration
Preaching
Sermon
Worship
Object:
Lectionary texts for the Easter season, including all of them for this Sunday, reflect the resurrection hope for the ultimate end of suffering, death, and evil. Keeping this hope alive in the midst of the ongoing -- and even increasing -- human tragedies of our time is an essential task for those who proclaim the Christian gospel.
In this issue of The Immediate Word, team member Roger Lovette unveils the promise of the book of Revelation to oppressed and threatened believers. He raises the poignant question of Revelation 7:13, "Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?" And the answers he draws from the book constitute a powerful message to all those who face the extremities of life.
Included, as usual, are responses from team members, related illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon.
Who Are These?
by Roger Lovette
Revelation 7:9-17
Acts 9:36-43; Psalm 23; John 10:22-30
Introducing the Texts
Two themes run through all the lectionary passages for this week: (1) Death -- danger, crisis, difficulty, helplessness; and (2) Life -- care, direction, hope, assurance.
All four texts address these hard subjects in one way or another. Acts 9:36-43 really begins four verses earlier. Peter visits Aeneas who had been paralyzed and in bed for eight years. Peter proclaims that he is healed and the man gets up off his sick bed for the first time in years.
This is really a prelude to an even more dramatic encounter where Tabitha (Dorcas) had died. She had spent all of her time working with poor widows who had nothing. And now that she was dead, they stood by helpless, destitute, and grief-stricken. There was no one to help them now. Peter came and knelt and prayed and Tabitha came back to life. And hope returned to all those marginalized that she had helped so long. Death did not have the last word.
Psalm 23 has been a favorite of many through the years. In times of crisis, death, and hopelessness these words have brought comfort. They promise that at the heart of life there is a Shepherd who restores and leads and stands with us when we go through the shadowy valley called death. We are comforted, fed, and kept all the days of our lives. In the hard places of life we are not alone.
John 10:22-30 continues this theme of protection and care. The sheep will be protected from all those thieves, wolves, and robbers who would do harm. But there is a Shepherd who will guide these stubborn, frightened sheep through whatever happens.
My focus this week is on Revelation 7:9-17. In an age when we all feel besieged, John's Revelation gives us help and hope. The words were not written to escape the misery of their lives or the difficulty of their days. The words came into being to help the troubled get through whatever it was they faced. It is no wonder that Revelation has been one of the favorite books of the Bible for those in difficulty in every age.
"Who Are These?"
The Left Behind series of twelve books is a publisher's dream. These volumes have sold more than 60 million copies, even surpassing sales of the popular books by John Grisham. The Left Behind books deal with the end time -- which they confidently report is coming soon. Book after book tells of how Christians will be snatched up into the heavens while all the others will be left behind to suffer unbelievable torture. The series seems to have forgotten Jesus' answer to the question: "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" Jesus simply said, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority" (Acts 1:6-7; compare Mark 13:32).
These books have touched a chord. They have addressed a real need. We live in a time of real fear. September 11 simply punctuated what lay just beneath the surface. War in Iraq, shootings in our schools, drugs and sex, and crazy antics at the Super Bowl make many wonder if we live in a world without direction. The charges hurled by the political candidates make us wonder what is really true and what we should believe. Many today have the feeling of being under attack, besieged by forces beyond our control.
So we go beyond the slick answers of the Left Behind series for help. We turn to the last book in the Bible. Some find Revelation strange. It is filled with angels and trumpets and earthquakes and beasts and dragons and demons. But this is not a book about monsters or terror.
The book of Revelation came into being to address a time of great crisis. Many scholars date its origin back to the closing days of the first century A.D. Thirty years earlier, the Emperor Nero had begun persecuting Christians. Toward the end of the century, Domitian continued what Nero had begun. Christians were oppressed because they would not swear allegiance to Caesar. And for this they were put to death. Around the end of Emperor Domitian's bloody reign, John's book came into being.
The church was scattered and afraid. Persecution was everywhere. It looked like the end not only of the church but of the world. And so John wrote to undergird frightened, scared believers. Revelation was written to help beleaguered Christians in a time when everything was in disarray.
In this lection you might find some guidelines for those facing a difficult time in your congregation. John asks: "Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?"(7:13b). John continues: "After 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" (7:9).
A Great Company
Who are these? They are part of a great company -- a great host whom no one could number. On five occasions the writer, John defines who these people are: Revelation 5:9; 11:9; 13:7; 14:6; 17:15. There are four divisions here: nations, tribes, peoples, tongues. Who are they? Republicans, sometimes. White, sometimes. Democrats, sometimes. Middle-class, sometimes. Conservatives, sometimes. Adults of all ages, sometimes. Liberals, sometimes. And sometimes African-American and Chicano and sometimes people dark skinned from Iraq and other countries speaking languages we cannot understand. Who are these?
They are all part of God's very large family. A family that takes in. A family that is not exclusive or homogenous. "There was a great multitude that no one could count from every nation, from all tribes, and peoples and languages ..." (7:9b).
In every age the church has faced the struggle to pare down this vision into more manageable categories. Jews, not Samaritans or other Gentiles. Men, not women. The free, but not slaves. Caucasians, but no "coloreds." God's chosen people, no outsiders. These categories were firm and set and manageable.
But John's great vision stretches our imagination. This kingdom of God is no small thing. This big, big family takes in all people from all tribes, nations, and languages. This is a kingdom of inclusion.
The Suffering Ones
Who are these? "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." (7:14) These are the survivors.
Almost every commentary says the words here mean: These are they that are coming out of the great ordeal of tribulation. The action of the verb is continuing. This action is still taking place before our very eyes. So these words were first designed to encourage Christians in Asia and those who faced martyrdom from the Roman authorities. But the continuing action takes in those in Rwanda, Iraq, the grief-stricken in Palestine and Israel -- those North Koreans who lost hundreds in last week's planned train disaster. Who are these? These are the besieged the world over. Revelation says there is hope for all those that suffer then and now.
You might illustrate this point by talking about the wonderful documentary Bill Moyers gave us several years ago called, "Amazing Grace." He went all over the country interviewing different people whose lives had been touched by this most favorite of hymns. He asked everyone he interviewed: "What is your favorite part of the song? What moves you the most?"
Jessie Norman, the black diva who came from a poor home in Augusta, Georgia, said the third stanza was her favorite part of the song. Johnny Cash who, through the years has battled his own demons, said in his gravelly voice: "I think it's that third verse." Bill Moyers went behind bars to Folsom Prison in Texas and interviewed prisoners, some on death row. One after another responded to his question, "It's that third verse that gets me every time":
Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come.
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
Moyers interviewed a ninety-one year old black man who had been leading Sacred Harp music all his life. The old man said his favorite part of the song was, "That part about 'dangers, toils, and snares' ... and how he led me every step of the way." Judy Collins, the folk singer talked about her own struggles and pilgrimage. This was the hymn, she said, that kept her going when she was battling drugs and alcoholism that she saw no way out. She recalled the singing the words: " 'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home ..." helped heal her and bring her back.
So John asks over and over, who are these? They are the ones who are coming out of the present tribulation. Which means, I think this is a survivor's song for us too. For if we bring anything hard and difficult and painful to church next Sunday -- we are not alone. We are part of a great company whom no one can number. But John continued.
The Victorious Ones
Who are these? "These are they ... who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (7:14b). These are the washed and the cleansed ones. White was a symbol not only of purity but also of victory. This is the resurrection color. When a Roman general celebrated a triumphant battle he would always dress in a robe of white. It was a sign of victory. So when Christians were baptized they wore white. It was the church's way of saying we are washed and cleansed and sin and all its powers cannot defeat us.
You might remind those in church next Sunday to remember their own baptismal vows and the deep meaning of those vows. Martin Luther would say in moments of depression: "I have been baptized!" We all might find some victory in remembering we have been washed and cleansed by the water God gives.
The Satisfied Ones
John continued to answer who these were. "They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for 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" (7:16-17).
In the early church there were a great number of slaves and poor members who knew the literal meaning of hunger and thirst. There were nights when their children cried long after dark because they were hungry. They grew tired of the hardness of their lives. Sometimes the injustice of it all was more than they could bear. And John wrote for them too. There would come a time when they would have plenty to eat and all the thirsts of a desert people would be quenched forever.
William Barclay writes that one of the reasons that the book of Revelation still touches so many people is the promise that the hungers and thirsts of life will be satisfied.
The people that file into your church next Sunday will bring with them all kinds of weights -- internal and external. All the things that sap our energy and make life miserable cannot be checked at the sanctuary door.
John summarizes the source of their satisfaction when he writes: "For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water; and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (7:17). We shall find some guidance in a world like ours. We shall find water that sustains and keeps us. We are not left to our resources alone. The Shepherd will supply every need of our lives. (You might want to allude to the lections from Psalm 23 and John 10.)
Scared, frightened Christians learned that there was a power greater than Rome. They learned that even when the foundations of their lives were shaken God was there. The Good Shepherd would tend to his sheep.
Who are these? They are part of that great number of every nation whom no one can number. Who are these? They are the survivors -- coming out on the far side of the great ordeal, still standing. Who are these? They are the victorious ones for they have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb. They are the ones who have learned to call the Shepherd by name, and know they are not alone -- even when they walk through the darkest of valleys. Who are these? They are us -- you and me and all our brothers and sisters the world over.
(If you are interested in the Acts 9:36-43 text this week you might find some help from Myron C. Malden's book, Raise the Dead! [Waco, Texas: Word, 1975], which uses death as a psychological metaphor for many things.)
Team Comments
Carlos Wilton responds: Roger, I commend you for your approach to Revelation, emphasizing the historical context of Roman persecution. I'm convinced that, in order to truly understand this great but highly unusual book, it's essential for us to first understand what the book meant to the people of its own time. To see it (as some do today) as a sort of theological time capsule -- buried for two millennia so that twenty-first century people might glean an esoteric, coded message from its pages -- stretches credulity. Why would the early church have carefully and lovingly preserved this book, and why would an ecumenical council of a century or two later have included it in the canon, if its meaning were largely incomprehensible to its own age?
This particular passage of Revelation speaks to our contemporary world a message not so much of judgment as of hope. A powerful sign of that hope is the spiritual vision of that "great multitude that no one could count" (7:9). They are the communion of saints, and -- by the grace of God -- they are always with us, in good times and in bad.
When I was a boy, my father ran a men's clothing store. It was a small, family business: just my dad and his one employee, a leathery-skinned old gent by the name of Ed Harris.
To my brother and me, Ed seemed a hundred years old -- though, if truth be told, I do think he was still working well into his eighties. He'd been in the "haberdashery" business, as he liked to call it, more years than anyone could remember.
I used to enjoy going into that store. "Wilton & Woolley" was its name. My dad used to tell me that, since I was a Wilton too, it belonged to me. Every once in a while he'd give me a little whisk broom, and send me off to dust the shoulders and arms of all those men's suits that hung, like soldiers on parade, along the walls.
From time to time, somebody would ask why it was "Wilton & Woolley," not just "Wilton's Men's Shop." That was a fair question, because nobody ever worked there but my father and old Ed Harris. Some folks even thought "Woolley" referred to the wool sweaters and socks displayed on the racks.
The "Woolley" in "Wilton & Woolley" referred to a businessman of that name. He owned a large department store in another town. He was what the business world calls a "silent partner" -- an investor and part owner who hardly ever shows up.
That's the way it is with that "great multitude that no one could count." They are the communion of saints. For us Christians, they are our silent partners.
No struggle we confront in this life has not been faced -- and triumphed over -- by some other Christian before us. There is no sorrow or loss so deep that there is no one who can look upon us and share our pain. There is no moment when we are ever truly alone: as long as we remain in communion with the company of the faithful from every time and place.
Carter Shelley responds: Roger, the materials and interpretive strategies you offer for this week's lectionary texts work not only in our current context but also offer helpful insights for future sermons at both funerals and other times of specific congregational tragedy and loss. In fact, your brief opening comments on the four texts provides a great sermon outline for those who may choose not to emphasize Revelation over the other texts: (1) Acts: Death does not have the last word; (2) Psalm 23: We are not alone in the hard places; (3) John: Christ our Shepherd will guide us through whatever happens; and, (4) Revelation: We cannot escape life's miseries and losses but God will be with us offering help, hope, and a better future.
As a twentieth and twenty-first century Christian feminist I feel some frustration with the image of a bunch of "helpless, destitute, and grief-stricken" widows who cannot survive or function without Dorcas, their benefactor. But I say that from the luxurious perspective of a woman raised in a nation where many women have choices and some control over the kind of lives we lead. Were one to look not only at first-century Judaism's strictures on widows dependent upon male relatives for economic support but also at Roman matrons and other women of the Roman Empire, the parallels to the circumstance of Muslim widows in Bosnia, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Palestine -- not to mention young American current Iraq War widows and widowers who may lack both education and opportunities to help them deal with single parenting and the loss of a life partner -- pose the very real possibility that "helplessness, destitution, and grief" know no specific century or moment in history but are constants in history.
I always appreciate mainline ministers dealing with the book of Revelation from the pulpit. It is too easy for us to accede it to our more conservative brethren rather than directly educate and inform our own congregants of both its importance and meaning. While I have not read the Left Behind series and know that I should, because they are such a phenomenon and seem to present a "comeuppance" version of Revelation (undeniably, it's in the letter itself, but it's disturbing nonetheless), I suspect many of our church members have not read these books and won't know what you mean by "slick answers." Consequently, a more detailed description of their content as part of this week's sermon might be helpful.
As with The Da Vinci Code some works of fiction offer a wonderful opportunity for in depth study and exchange on the book of Revelation as interpreted by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins. It's probably time those of us who haven't offered a Sunday school class or weeknight study group did so. At the beginning of any class I teach on "The Christian Tradition" at Wake Forest University, I always invite the students to write down questions they'd like answered by the end of the course. The book of Revelation always engenders more interest than any other subject. An excellent resource for use both in preaching on Revelation and in teaching a class about it is William C. Pender's book Revelation in the Interpretation Bible Studies series (Louisville: Geneva Press, 1999).
Having spent Saturday with a group of friends who feel great despair over the American commitment to the morass in Iraq, current unemployment for blue collar workers in North Carolina, and great anxiety over the national budget deficit and the environment, it strikes me that every generation is convinced that the worst age of the world is the one in which they live. One of my elderly friends from England felt certain the world would end with the waste and horrors of World War I. Those who learned of Dachau and Auschwitz could imagine no worse possible moment in human history; yet Bosnia and Rwanda have produced equally awful examples of human depravity, insanity, and hate. What is perhaps different for Americans in 2004 is the reality that such evil infiltrated our own shores on 9/11 in a way we hadn't had to face before. Perhaps what can change for Americans now is that we read Revelation with an awareness that we too need its words of hope and faithfulness to keep us from returning to self-serving policies of isolationism but also to keep us praying, thinking, hoping, and seeking a better world for all. After all, Christ came to change the world and redeem it, not rescue us from it.
Hunger and thirst do indeed remain with us today. For many, many people in the world hunger and thirst are a daily reality. For many others, there is a genuine hunger and thirst for spiritual nourishment that our churches are called upon to help satisfy. Furthermore, there are many who hunger and thirst for abiding ethical standards in finances, in newspaper reporting, in our domestic and social lives, and, of course, in governmental accountability and candor.1
I guess a truism of humanity is we all suffer. We all suffer the loss of loved ones to death. Many suffer in other ways: persecution, exploitation, disenfranchisement, isolation, disease, hunger, war. But we do not all suffer equally. One explanation for the extraordinary success of Mel Gibson's movie The Passion stems from the powerful identification it revealed for many of the world's current day sufferers. Jesus' passion testifies to Christ's identification with our sufferings as well as our identifying with his. Whether reading of it in the Gospels or flinching at its potent brutality on film, Christians recognize that in his suffering and death Jesus experienced literal, physical suffering along with soul-wrenching emotional despair. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me," expresses Jesus own feeling that his God is out of reach and does not care. John, the author of Revelation, hears a similar cry coming from his Christian contemporaries. It is a cry we too may express audibly and painfully at our direst moments in life. What John reveals and what Jesus' resurrection affirms is God's presence no matter what. Death, especially the premature death of loved ones, often leads to inarticulate faith. We are struck speechless by the tragedy. Scripture steps in and speaks for us and to us as such times. In this week's lectionary texts, profound words provide for us what we cannot provide for ourselves.
Note
1. One of the ironies of a presidential campaign year is the inherent contradiction in the whole process. For a man (and I mean "man"; women haven't made it to this arena yet), the ambition and follow-through to run for president of the United States require incredible ego and self-interest. It is such a daunting job; it takes foolhardiness and denial of one's human limitations along with a strong sense of vision to even consider running for this office. Adjacent to this individualistic phenomenon is the appeal to human self-interest, not sacrifice, that helps a candidate woo and win the election. Rarely are we asked to give up for the benefit of others or for the overall common good. Instead we are urged to vote to our own economic and political advantage without thought or concern for the consequences to others.
George Murphy responds: For many in my tradition, and especially for Lutherans from a Norwegian background, the text from Revelation immediately calls to mind a hymn by Hans Brorson, "Den Store Hvide Flok" ("the great host in white," commonly known as "Behold a Host"):
Who is this host arrayed in white
Like thousand snow-clad mountains bright,
That stands with palms and sings its psalms
Before the throne of light? ...
(Lutheran Book of Worship, hymn 314)
It is often sung at funerals. The thought, of course, is that the Christian who has died has joined this company around God's throne. It's a comforting thought -- but is it what the book of Revelation is talking about?
Well, yes and no -- and then yes again. The hope that is expressed here is one that is appropriate for all Christians. But Revelation was written in a time of persecution, and its author was especially concerned to encourage believers to remain faithful even when they were threatened with death because of their trust in Christ. In the scene that is pictured in our text, the "host arrayed in white" seems to be the martyrs, those who have given their lives it witness (martyria) to the faith. (Cf. G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine [New York: Harper & Row, 1966], pp. 93-103.)
And the popular idea that all believers go to heaven when they die is not the impression that we get from Revelation. Here the souls of the martyrs find in heaven a temporary refuge from the turmoil that's taking place on earth (e.g., 6:9-11). But in the general resurrection things move in the opposite direction. It is not a matter of people going to heaven but of the holy city coming down from heaven to a renewed earth (21:2ff.). The closing scenes of Revelation, when the defeat of sin is final and death will be no more, take place not in heaven but on the new earth.
These distinctions are necessary for an understanding of the text, but most of us will not be preaching to persecuted Christians and we certainly don't live at the end of the first century. It's always appropriate for the church to honor those who are martyrs in the traditionally strict sense, those who have been killed "because of hatred of the faith." But they do not constitute a qualitatively superior class of Christians. The hope of the martyrs is that of all those who trust in Christ and who take up their crosses to follow him.
It may, however, be worth pointing out that the great multitude of our text "have come out of the great ordeal" -- or, as Caird translates (because erchomenoi is a present participle) -- "are coming through the great ordeal." They are not people who have succeeded in avoiding the ordeal because the expression of their faith has never had a high enough profile to provoke persecution. (Think of the old question, "If Christianity were a crime, would there be enough evidence to convict you?") And they are also not Christians who -- as pre-tribulation rapturists imagine -- been snatched out of the world so that they don't have to go through the ordeal. Those who write or buy into things like the Left Behind series of course manage to fit the scene in our text into their scheme, but that whole scheme is spurious because, among other things, one of the marks of the church is the cross -- not sitting safe in heaven watching other people suffer.
More important than the details of who makes up the host arrayed in white is the identity of their leader. The language of verse 17 clearly comes from Psalm 23, but it is used in a surprising way: It is a lamb who will shepherd them and lead them "beside still waters." But not just any lamb. The shepherd is Christ, "the Lamb that was slaughtered" (5:12). He does not simply order us to pass through the valley of the shadow of death but leads us through it, having passed through that valley himself. He is (as verses before this week's Gospel reading say) the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. And because he lays down his life and takes it up again, he can say of his sheep that "no one will snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:18, 28).
Related Illustrations
In January 1995 the Reverend Bryant Wilson of Montgomery, Alabama, was diagnosed with muscle lymphoma. He underwent several courses of chemotherapy with recurrences of cancer every time. As a last ditch effort, he endured the rigors of a bone marrow transplant. Medicine played its last card. During this time he wrote a series of reflections on his struggles, which he sent to friends and parishioners. Here is one example:
"Tightrope"
"I walk a tightrope. And I dare not look down.
"I assume that most of you have heard the discouraging word I received from my doctors this past week. Despite their best efforts, and mine and yours, the cancer we would wish away and pray away has returned.
"And now I walk a tightrope.
"As I hang precariously balanced I find keeping balance is not easy to do. On one side is the reality that all of us die, even men in their early 50s. Cancer is no respecter of persons. It can take us all ...
* The Young and the Old ...
* The Rich and the Poor ...
* The Famous and the Infamous ...
* Those that some would think deserve it
* And those who don't.
* And me.
"Denial is only foolish.
"On the other side is Faith. The kind of faith that knows miracles can and do happen. God can and does intervene. Prayers are answered. Bodies are healed. Cancers are banished and vanish ... Without explanation. Unpredictable. Wonderfully.
"Denial refuses the Unseen Mystery of life.
"To embrace both realities is difficult. It is easy to embrace one and deny the other -- to accept death and deny hope, to cling to faith and deny death.
"I live on a tightrope. But I know that, where I to fall, it matters not on which wide I fall. Faith always wins. Why? Underneath are the Everlasting Arms."
* * *
Luther Thompson, a minister, tells about a man who was impressed by the woman who came to clean his hotel room every day. She claimed she was happy because she was a Christian. The preacher asked: "Do all the people around here enjoy their religion the way you do?" "Them that has it does," she said. "That's the way you know they got it."
* * *
Patrick Overton writes in The Learning Tree:
When we walk to the edge of all the light we have
And take that step into the darkness of the unknown,
We must believe that one of two things will happen --
There will be something solid for us to stand on,
Or, we will be taught how to fly.
* * *
Frederick Buechner answers "Who are these" that come to church on Sunday in a beautiful way in his book on preaching, Telling the Truth (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1977), pp. 22, 23:
In the front pews the old ladies turn up their hearing aids, and a young lady slips her six-year-old a Lifesaver and a Magic Marker. A college sophomore home for vacation, who is there because he was dragged there, slumps forward with his chin in his hand. The vice-president of a bank who twice a week has seriously contemplated suicide places his hymnal in the rack. A high-school math teacher, who for twenty years has managed to keep his homosexuality a secret for the most part even from himself, creases his order of service down the center with his thumbnail and tucks it under his knee....
* * *
"The preacher pulls the little cord that turns on the lectern light and deals out his note cards like a riverboat gambler. The stakes have never been higher..."
* * *
Fred Craddock tells a story illustrating the present power of the communion of saints. It goes something like this:
It seems there was a young woman who learned she had a potentially fatal illness. She had surgery, and then some treatments. For a time she was able to get on with her life but then, at a routine check-up, she learned the dread disease was back.
There was more surgery, and further treatment. This time it took more out of her. Recovery was slower. But the patient persevered, and returned to her life again.
Some years later, during another routine check-up, she learned the disease had once again returned. This time, the prognosis was grim. She spent some time talking with her friends; she prayed; and she decided there would be no more surgery, no more heavy treatments. The young woman went home. Her friends gathered round.
One day, Death came and knocked at the door. Her friends rushed to the door and leaned against it, to keep Death out. Death went away.
But Death came back, and this time Death not only knocked, Death leaned on the door as though to push it in. The young woman's friends leaned against it all the harder. Death went away.
A short while later, Death came calling again. Death knocked on the door and leaned against the door. The friends made as if to stand against it but the young woman said no, move away. They looked at her as though she were crazy. She couldn't possibly know what she was saying. They refused to obey.
But she told them again, in a louder voice, to move away from the door. When they saw the steely determination in her eyes, they knew she meant what she said, so they moved away. Sensing no resistance, Death pushed open the door and came into the room. The young woman was sitting, propped up on pillows waiting for Death, looking Death right in the eye.
When Death saw the strength of her spirit, Death looked beaten and ashamed. Death took her, then but Death knew that, by the power of Jesus Christ, and by the witness of the communion of saints gathered there in that room, there was no triumph to be had that day. Death had been beaten again.
* * *
Sometimes it's revealing to see our culture as it's viewed from overseas. Such is the case with the following recent article from Britain's Guardian newspaper, which comments upon the links between "rapture" theology and current efforts to influence U.S. Policy toward the Middle East, so as to hasten the "rapture." An excerpt:
"In the United States, several million people have succumbed to an extraordinary delusion. In the 19th century, two immigrant preachers cobbled together a series of unrelated passages from the Bible to create what appears to be a consistent narrative: Jesus will return to Earth when certain preconditions have been met. The first of these was the establishment of a state of Israel. The next involves Israel's occupation of the rest of its "biblical lands" (most of the Middle East), and the rebuilding of the Third Temple on the site now occupied by the Dome of the Rock and al-Aqsa mosques. The legions of the antichrist will then be deployed against Israel, and their war will lead to a final showdown in the valley of Armageddon. The Jews will either burn or convert to Christianity, and the Messiah will return to Earth.
What makes the story so appealing to Christian fundamentalists is that before the big battle begins, all "true believers" (i.e., those who believe what they believe) will be lifted out of their clothes and wafted up to heaven during an event called the Rapture. Not only do the worthy get to sit at the right hand of God, but they will be able to watch, from the best seats, their political and religious opponents being devoured by boils, sores, locusts and frogs, during the seven years of Tribulation which follow.
-- George Monbiot, "Their Beliefs Are Bonkers, but They Are at the Heart of Power: US Christian Fundamentalists Are Driving Bush's Middle East Policy," in The Guardian, Tuesday, April 20, 2004; http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,12271,1195728,00.html
* * *
The following article, "The End of the World," is also worth consulting for background information on premillennial dispensationalism: http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0218/p11s01-lire.html
-- Jane Lampman, "The End of the World," in The Christian Science Monitor, February 18, 2004
* * *
"God is portrayed as a mass of vagueness behind a veil of enigmas (even in the church), and His voice has become alien to our minds, to our hearts, to our souls. This is the status of the Bible today: it is a sublime answer, but we do not know the question any more....
"The surest way of misunderstanding revelation is take it literally, to imagine that God spoke to the prophet on a long-distance telephone. The truth is that things and words stand for different meanings in different situations. Gold means wealth to the merchant, a means of adornment to the jeweler, and kindness to the rhetorician (a golden heart). Light is a form of energy to the physicist, a medium of loveliness to the artist, and an expression of grandeur in the first chapter of the Bible. Ruah, the Hebrew word for spirit, signifies also breath, wind, and direction. And he who thinks only of breath forfeits the deeper meaning of the word....
" 'God spoke.' The truth is that what is literally true to us is a metaphor compared with what is in essence real to God. And when applied to Him our mightiest words are feeble understatements. The nature of revelation, being an event in the realm of the ineffable, is something which words cannot spell, which human language will never be able to portray. In speaking of revelation, the more descriptive the terms, the less adequate is the description. The words in which the prophets attempted to relate their experiences were not photographs but illustrations, not descriptions but songs."
-- Abraham Joseph Heschel, Between God and Man
* * *
"The true eschatological banquet is not that of the birds on the bodies of the slain. It is the feast of the living, the wedding banquet of the Lamb. The true eschatological convocation is not the crowding of armies on the field of battle, but the summons of the Great Joy, the cry of deliverance: 'Come out of her, my people, that you may not share in her sins and suffer from her plagues!' (Revelation 18:4). The cry of the time of the end was uttered also in the beginning by Lot in Sodom, to his sons-in-law: 'Come, get out of this city, for the Lord will destroy it. But he seemed to them to be jesting' (Genesis 19:14).
"To leave the city of death and imprisonment is surely not bad news except to those who have so identified themselves with their captivity that they can conceive no other reality and no other condition. In such a case, there is nothing but tribulation: for while to stay in captivity is tragic, to break away from it is unthinkable -- and so more tragic still.
"What is needed then is the grace and courage to see that 'the Great Tribulation' and 'the Great Joy' are really inseparable, and that the 'Tribulation' becomes 'Joy' when it is seen as the victory of life over death....
"Eschatology is not fines and punishment, the winding up of accounts and the closing of books: it is the final beginning, the definitive birth into a new creation. It is not the last gasp of exhausted possibilities but the first taste of all that is beyond conceiving as actual."
-- Thomas Merton, "The Time of No Room," From Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (Plough Publishing House, 2001)
* * *
"We must never speak to simple, excitable people about 'the Day' without emphasizing again and again the utter impossibility of prediction. We must try to show them that that impossibility is an essential part of the doctrine. If you do not believe our Lord's words, why do you believe in His return at all? And if you do believe them, must you not put away from you, utterly and forever, any hope of dating that return?"
-- C. S. Lewis, "The World's Last Night"
* * *
"Rumors of this world's demise have been greatly exaggerated. Consider the example of William Miller, a Baptist farmer from New York who was convinced that Christ would return to earth in the early 1840s. With the assistance of Boston preacher Joshua Himes, Miller persuaded tens of thousands of Christians that the 'day of the Lord' was at hand. Some followers even quit jobs and sold property in anticipation of the Second Coming. What came instead was the so-called Great Disappointment, and with it the discrediting of William Miller. Within a short time, however, Miller's shoes were filled by others who reinterpreted the texts, reworked the math, and issued new and equally assured predictions....
"Ancient apocalypses were written primarily in times of distress and dislocation. The vision they convey is at once a testimony of faith, a call to endurance, and a critique of present reality. That last point is often missed. One's dreams for the future are to an extent the photonegative of one's dissatisfactions with the present. The author of Revelation saw the Roman Empire as a demonic beast, the embodiment of evil, whose destiny was destruction. Against a background of persecution and oppression, the book asserts the counterclaims of God's reign, characterized by justice and peace."
-- Craig C. Hill, Professor of New Testament at Wesley Theological Seminary, Washington, D.C., "The End of the World--Again: Current Interest in the End Times Isn't Unique," The Dallas Morning News, 10/26/2002
* * *
A local priest and pastor stood by the side of the road. Doing their good deed for the day, they were holding up a sign that said, "The End Is Near! Turn yourself around now before it's too late!" They planned to hold up the sign to each passing car.
"Leave us alone, you religious nuts!" yelled the first driver who sped by. From around the curve they heard a big splash. "Do you think," said one clergy to the other, "we should just put up a sign that says 'bridge out' instead?"
Worship Resources
by George Reed
OPENING
Music
Hymns
"The Lord's My Shepherd, I'll Not Want." Words: Scottish Psalter, 1650; music: Jesse Seymour Irvine, 1872; harm. TCL Pritchard, 1929. Harm. (c) Oxford University Press. As found in UMH 136; Hymnal '82; LBOW 451; TPH 170; CH 78.
"We Gather Together" (not just for Thanksgiving Day). Words: Nederlandtsch Gedencklanck, 1626; trans. Theodore Baker 1894; music: 16th c. Dutch melody; arr. Edward Kremser, 1877. Public domain. As found in UMH 131; Hymnal '82 433; TPH 559; AAHH 343; TNNBH 326; TNCH 421; CH 276.
"Sing Praise to God Who Reigns Above." Words: Johann J. Schutz, 1675 trans. Frances E. Cox, 1864; music: Bohemian Brethren's Kirchengesange, 1566; harm. Maurice F. Bell, 1906. Public domain. As found in UMH 126; Hymnal '82 408; LBOW 542; TPH 483; TNCH 6; CH 6.
"Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah." Words: William Williams, 1745; trans. Peter Williams and the author, 1771; music: John Hughes, 1907. Public domain. As found in UMH 127; Hymnal '82 690; LBOW 343; AAHH 139, 140; TNNBH 323; TNCH 18, 19; CH 622.
"O God, Our Help in Ages Past." Words: Isaac Watts, 1719; music: attr. William Croft, 1708; harm. W. H. Monk, 1861. Public domain. As found in UMH 117; Hymnal '82 680; LBOW 320; TPH 281; AAHH 170; TNNBH 46; TNCH 25; CH 67.
"A Mighty Fortress Is Our God." Words: Martin Luther, ca. 1529; trans. Frederick H. Hedge, 1853; music: Martin Luther, ca. 1529; harm. The New Hymnal for American Youth, 1930. Public domain. As found in UMH 110; Hymnal '82 687, 688; LBOW: 228, 229; TPH: 259, 260; AAHH 124; TNNBH 37; TNCH 439, 440; CH 65.
Songs
"From the Rising of the Sun." Words and music: Anon. Public domain. As found in CCB 4.
"I Will Call upon the Lord." Words and music: Michael O'Shields. (c) 1981 Sound III and All Nations Music. As found in CCB 9.
"Sing unto the Lord a New Song." Words: Jewish folk song; music: Jewish folk song; arr. J. Michail Bryan. Arr. (c) 1996 Abingdon Press. As found in CCB16.
CALL TO WORSHIP
Leader: God is our shepherd,
People: We shall have no wants.
Leader: God makes us lie down in green pastures;
People: and leads me beside still waters.
Leader: We are led in right paths for God's name's sake.
People: Our souls are restored.
COLLECT / OPENING PRAYER
O God who has been our Shepherd throughout all time: Grant us the faith we need to trust you in this time and in this place; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
or
God, you are the One who has led us and been our Shepherd throughout all of existence. From your word of creation to your word that decrees your Reign has fully come, you are with us. When things look dark, dangerous, and unsteady help us to trust in you all the more. Amen.
Response music
Hymns
"Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." Words: Elisha A Hoffman, 1887; music: Anthony J. Showalter, 1887. Public domain. As found in UMH 133; AAHH 371; TNNBH 262; TNCH 471; CH 560.
"All My Hope Is Firmly Grounded." Words: Joachim Neander, 1680; trans. Fred Pratt Green 1986; music: Herbert Howells, 1930, 1977. Trans. (c) 1989 Hope Publishing Co; Music (c) 1968 Movellow and Co., Ltd. As found in UMH 132; Hymnal '82 665; TNCH 408; CH 88.
"O Mary, Don't You Weep." Words: African American spiritual; music: African American spiritual; adapt. and arr. William Farley Smith, 1986. Adapt. and arr. (c) 1989 The United Methodist Publishing House. As found in UMH 134.
"He Leadeth Me: O Blessed Thought." Words: Joseph H. Gilmoe, 1862; music: William B. Bradbury, 1864. Public domain. As found in UMH 128; Hymnal '82; LBOW 501; AAHH 142; TNNBH 235; CH 545.
"Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us." Words: attr. to Dorothy A. Thrupp, 1836; music: William B. Bradbury, 1859. Public domain. As found in UMH 381; Hymnal '82 708; LBOW 481; TPH 387; AAHH 424; TNNBH 54; TNCH 252; CH 558.
"It Is Well with My Soul." Words: Horatio G. Spafford, 1873; music: Philip P. Bliss, 1878. Public domain. As found in UMH 377; AAHH 377; TNNBH 255; CH 561.
Songs
"All I Need Is You." Words and music: Dan Adler; arr. Nylea L. Butler-Moore (c) 1989. As found in CCB 100.
"May You Run and Not Be Weary." Words and music: Paul Murakami and Handt Hanson; arr. Henry Wiens; arr. adapt. Nylea L. Butler-Moore. (c) 1991 Changing Church Forum. As found in CCB 99.
"Soon and Very Soon." Words: Andrae Crouch; music: Andrae Crouch; adapt. William Farley Smith. (c) 1978 by Bud John Songs, Inc. and Crouch Music. As found in CCB 93.
"Give Thanks." Words and music: Henry Smith. (c) 1978 Integrity's Hosanna! Music. As found in CCB 92.
"O Eagle's Wings." Words and music: Michael Joncas, 1979. (c) 1979 New Dawn Music. As found in Renew: Songs and Hymns for Blended Worship 112, or chorus only in UMH 143; CCB 97.
PRAYERS OF CONFESSION / PARDON
Leader: We are people who trust in many persons and things. We try to trust in God but we often fail. Let us confess our failures of faith and trust to God and before our sisters and brothers.
People: We come in humility to confess to you, O God, the failures of our lives. Most of all we confess that we have failed to trust in you with all our hearts, minds, and lives. We have leaned on others and they have failed us. We have sought answers from others and they have proved false. You are our only sure hope. Help us to trust that you love us in spite of our mistrust and that you will continue to be with us always. Amen.
Leader: Hear the Good News! God is the Faithful One. God loves us and never leaves us. We are God's forgiven flock. The Shepherd comes to lead us.
GENERAL PRAYERS, LITANIES, ETC.
We worship and adore you, Good Shepherd of all creation. From the beginning when your spirit hovered over the waters of chaos and brought forth all that is, you have been the constant caretaker of creation. When you created us, you breathed into us your own spirit and life to make us your presence in the midst of creation. You are, indeed, a faithful God.
(The following paragraph is most suitable if a prayer of confession will not be used elsewhere.)
We confess to you and before one another that we have not been faithful. We have been led astray through our failure to trust in you. Though you have given us every reason to have faith in your loving kindness, we have run from you and tried to live our lives apart from you. We are but silly sheep who are in desperate need of a Shepherd. Forgive our foolish ways and gather us, once more, into your fold.
We give you thanks for all the ways in which your faithfulness has been shown to us. We thank you for creation and the abundance of the earth. Help us to share its resources more fully. We thank you for the beauty that surrounds us. Help us to act in beautiful ways toward others. We thank you most of all for your faithfulness and love as we have experienced it in Jesus Christ. Help us to share that grace with others and to continue his mission.
(Other specific thanksgiving may be offered.)
We lift up to your faithful love the cares of our hearts. There are those who are sick and dying. There is much violence and injustice in the world and in our neighborhoods. Grant that we may be your healing presence to the world you love so dearly.
(Other petitions may be offered.)
All these prayers we offer in the Name of Jesus who taught us to pray, saying, "Our Father ..."
Hymnal & Songbook Abbreviations
UMH: United Methodist Hymnal
Hymnal '82: The Hymnal 1982, The Episcopal Church
LBOW: Lutheran Book of Worship
TPH: The Presbyterian Hymnal
AAHH: African American Heritage Hymnal
TNNBH: The New National Baptist Hymnal
TNCH: The New Century Hymnal
CH: Chalice Hymnal
CCB: Cokesbury Chorus Book
PMMCH3: Praise. Maranatha! Music Chorus Book, Expanded 3rd Edition
A Children's Sermon
He Cares For Our Hurts
by Wesley T. Runk
Text: And God will wipe every tear from their eyes. (v. 17b)
Object: a box of tissues
Good morning, boys and girls. How many of you have ever felt so sad and blue that you wanted to sit down somewhere and cry big tears? Not many of us like to talk about those times, and I know a lot of boys who will tell you that they never cry. But I know differently. Boys cry just as girls cry when they are hurt, or when they feel like they have done something terrible and don't know what else to do. I remember a lot of times when I have been hurt and the tears come to my eyes faster than the awful feelings come to my tummy. Feeling bad and crying just go together. A tear can be a beautiful thing when it is a tear of sorrow. Most people don't cry when they feel hate or anger, but when they are hurt or are sorry they have tears.
I have something that goes along with tears. I imagine that one of these has been used on almost every boy and girl who has ever had a tear. Do you know what we call one of these things that I have in my hand? (let them answer) That's right; tissues. It feels good when your mother or father brushes away the tears with this very gentle tissue paper. It feels soft, and somehow it helps you to know that things are going to be all right. I remember that I used to think that my mother cared a lot when she would take a tissue out of her purse and wipe away my tears with it. And when I knew that she cared I knew that everything was going to be all right.
The Bible tells us that God does a lot of things that our mother and fathers do. As a matter of fact, the Bible tells us that another name for God is Father. Jesus called God his Father. One of the things that the Bible tells us that our Father in heaven is going to do is wipe away all of our tears when we join him in his new world. When we come to him it may be because we have been sick or injured, or just plain worn out, but the Bible tells us that when we come close to God, he is going to wipe away our tears. He is going to make us feel a lot better. Do you remember that no matter how bad you felt when you were crying, after your mother or father wiped away your tears you were laughing in minutes? I think that is what the Bible is talking about when it mentions that God our Father is going to wipe away our tears. It sure makes you feel good to know that he cares.
The next time that you see a tissue, I want you to think about how much God cares and how he makes us happy by taking care of our hurts.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, May 2, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503
In this issue of The Immediate Word, team member Roger Lovette unveils the promise of the book of Revelation to oppressed and threatened believers. He raises the poignant question of Revelation 7:13, "Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?" And the answers he draws from the book constitute a powerful message to all those who face the extremities of life.
Included, as usual, are responses from team members, related illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon.
Who Are These?
by Roger Lovette
Revelation 7:9-17
Acts 9:36-43; Psalm 23; John 10:22-30
Introducing the Texts
Two themes run through all the lectionary passages for this week: (1) Death -- danger, crisis, difficulty, helplessness; and (2) Life -- care, direction, hope, assurance.
All four texts address these hard subjects in one way or another. Acts 9:36-43 really begins four verses earlier. Peter visits Aeneas who had been paralyzed and in bed for eight years. Peter proclaims that he is healed and the man gets up off his sick bed for the first time in years.
This is really a prelude to an even more dramatic encounter where Tabitha (Dorcas) had died. She had spent all of her time working with poor widows who had nothing. And now that she was dead, they stood by helpless, destitute, and grief-stricken. There was no one to help them now. Peter came and knelt and prayed and Tabitha came back to life. And hope returned to all those marginalized that she had helped so long. Death did not have the last word.
Psalm 23 has been a favorite of many through the years. In times of crisis, death, and hopelessness these words have brought comfort. They promise that at the heart of life there is a Shepherd who restores and leads and stands with us when we go through the shadowy valley called death. We are comforted, fed, and kept all the days of our lives. In the hard places of life we are not alone.
John 10:22-30 continues this theme of protection and care. The sheep will be protected from all those thieves, wolves, and robbers who would do harm. But there is a Shepherd who will guide these stubborn, frightened sheep through whatever happens.
My focus this week is on Revelation 7:9-17. In an age when we all feel besieged, John's Revelation gives us help and hope. The words were not written to escape the misery of their lives or the difficulty of their days. The words came into being to help the troubled get through whatever it was they faced. It is no wonder that Revelation has been one of the favorite books of the Bible for those in difficulty in every age.
"Who Are These?"
The Left Behind series of twelve books is a publisher's dream. These volumes have sold more than 60 million copies, even surpassing sales of the popular books by John Grisham. The Left Behind books deal with the end time -- which they confidently report is coming soon. Book after book tells of how Christians will be snatched up into the heavens while all the others will be left behind to suffer unbelievable torture. The series seems to have forgotten Jesus' answer to the question: "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" Jesus simply said, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority" (Acts 1:6-7; compare Mark 13:32).
These books have touched a chord. They have addressed a real need. We live in a time of real fear. September 11 simply punctuated what lay just beneath the surface. War in Iraq, shootings in our schools, drugs and sex, and crazy antics at the Super Bowl make many wonder if we live in a world without direction. The charges hurled by the political candidates make us wonder what is really true and what we should believe. Many today have the feeling of being under attack, besieged by forces beyond our control.
So we go beyond the slick answers of the Left Behind series for help. We turn to the last book in the Bible. Some find Revelation strange. It is filled with angels and trumpets and earthquakes and beasts and dragons and demons. But this is not a book about monsters or terror.
The book of Revelation came into being to address a time of great crisis. Many scholars date its origin back to the closing days of the first century A.D. Thirty years earlier, the Emperor Nero had begun persecuting Christians. Toward the end of the century, Domitian continued what Nero had begun. Christians were oppressed because they would not swear allegiance to Caesar. And for this they were put to death. Around the end of Emperor Domitian's bloody reign, John's book came into being.
The church was scattered and afraid. Persecution was everywhere. It looked like the end not only of the church but of the world. And so John wrote to undergird frightened, scared believers. Revelation was written to help beleaguered Christians in a time when everything was in disarray.
In this lection you might find some guidelines for those facing a difficult time in your congregation. John asks: "Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?"(7:13b). John continues: "After 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" (7:9).
A Great Company
Who are these? They are part of a great company -- a great host whom no one could number. On five occasions the writer, John defines who these people are: Revelation 5:9; 11:9; 13:7; 14:6; 17:15. There are four divisions here: nations, tribes, peoples, tongues. Who are they? Republicans, sometimes. White, sometimes. Democrats, sometimes. Middle-class, sometimes. Conservatives, sometimes. Adults of all ages, sometimes. Liberals, sometimes. And sometimes African-American and Chicano and sometimes people dark skinned from Iraq and other countries speaking languages we cannot understand. Who are these?
They are all part of God's very large family. A family that takes in. A family that is not exclusive or homogenous. "There was a great multitude that no one could count from every nation, from all tribes, and peoples and languages ..." (7:9b).
In every age the church has faced the struggle to pare down this vision into more manageable categories. Jews, not Samaritans or other Gentiles. Men, not women. The free, but not slaves. Caucasians, but no "coloreds." God's chosen people, no outsiders. These categories were firm and set and manageable.
But John's great vision stretches our imagination. This kingdom of God is no small thing. This big, big family takes in all people from all tribes, nations, and languages. This is a kingdom of inclusion.
The Suffering Ones
Who are these? "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." (7:14) These are the survivors.
Almost every commentary says the words here mean: These are they that are coming out of the great ordeal of tribulation. The action of the verb is continuing. This action is still taking place before our very eyes. So these words were first designed to encourage Christians in Asia and those who faced martyrdom from the Roman authorities. But the continuing action takes in those in Rwanda, Iraq, the grief-stricken in Palestine and Israel -- those North Koreans who lost hundreds in last week's planned train disaster. Who are these? These are the besieged the world over. Revelation says there is hope for all those that suffer then and now.
You might illustrate this point by talking about the wonderful documentary Bill Moyers gave us several years ago called, "Amazing Grace." He went all over the country interviewing different people whose lives had been touched by this most favorite of hymns. He asked everyone he interviewed: "What is your favorite part of the song? What moves you the most?"
Jessie Norman, the black diva who came from a poor home in Augusta, Georgia, said the third stanza was her favorite part of the song. Johnny Cash who, through the years has battled his own demons, said in his gravelly voice: "I think it's that third verse." Bill Moyers went behind bars to Folsom Prison in Texas and interviewed prisoners, some on death row. One after another responded to his question, "It's that third verse that gets me every time":
Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come.
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
Moyers interviewed a ninety-one year old black man who had been leading Sacred Harp music all his life. The old man said his favorite part of the song was, "That part about 'dangers, toils, and snares' ... and how he led me every step of the way." Judy Collins, the folk singer talked about her own struggles and pilgrimage. This was the hymn, she said, that kept her going when she was battling drugs and alcoholism that she saw no way out. She recalled the singing the words: " 'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home ..." helped heal her and bring her back.
So John asks over and over, who are these? They are the ones who are coming out of the present tribulation. Which means, I think this is a survivor's song for us too. For if we bring anything hard and difficult and painful to church next Sunday -- we are not alone. We are part of a great company whom no one can number. But John continued.
The Victorious Ones
Who are these? "These are they ... who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (7:14b). These are the washed and the cleansed ones. White was a symbol not only of purity but also of victory. This is the resurrection color. When a Roman general celebrated a triumphant battle he would always dress in a robe of white. It was a sign of victory. So when Christians were baptized they wore white. It was the church's way of saying we are washed and cleansed and sin and all its powers cannot defeat us.
You might remind those in church next Sunday to remember their own baptismal vows and the deep meaning of those vows. Martin Luther would say in moments of depression: "I have been baptized!" We all might find some victory in remembering we have been washed and cleansed by the water God gives.
The Satisfied Ones
John continued to answer who these were. "They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for 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" (7:16-17).
In the early church there were a great number of slaves and poor members who knew the literal meaning of hunger and thirst. There were nights when their children cried long after dark because they were hungry. They grew tired of the hardness of their lives. Sometimes the injustice of it all was more than they could bear. And John wrote for them too. There would come a time when they would have plenty to eat and all the thirsts of a desert people would be quenched forever.
William Barclay writes that one of the reasons that the book of Revelation still touches so many people is the promise that the hungers and thirsts of life will be satisfied.
The people that file into your church next Sunday will bring with them all kinds of weights -- internal and external. All the things that sap our energy and make life miserable cannot be checked at the sanctuary door.
John summarizes the source of their satisfaction when he writes: "For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water; and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (7:17). We shall find some guidance in a world like ours. We shall find water that sustains and keeps us. We are not left to our resources alone. The Shepherd will supply every need of our lives. (You might want to allude to the lections from Psalm 23 and John 10.)
Scared, frightened Christians learned that there was a power greater than Rome. They learned that even when the foundations of their lives were shaken God was there. The Good Shepherd would tend to his sheep.
Who are these? They are part of that great number of every nation whom no one can number. Who are these? They are the survivors -- coming out on the far side of the great ordeal, still standing. Who are these? They are the victorious ones for they have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb. They are the ones who have learned to call the Shepherd by name, and know they are not alone -- even when they walk through the darkest of valleys. Who are these? They are us -- you and me and all our brothers and sisters the world over.
(If you are interested in the Acts 9:36-43 text this week you might find some help from Myron C. Malden's book, Raise the Dead! [Waco, Texas: Word, 1975], which uses death as a psychological metaphor for many things.)
Team Comments
Carlos Wilton responds: Roger, I commend you for your approach to Revelation, emphasizing the historical context of Roman persecution. I'm convinced that, in order to truly understand this great but highly unusual book, it's essential for us to first understand what the book meant to the people of its own time. To see it (as some do today) as a sort of theological time capsule -- buried for two millennia so that twenty-first century people might glean an esoteric, coded message from its pages -- stretches credulity. Why would the early church have carefully and lovingly preserved this book, and why would an ecumenical council of a century or two later have included it in the canon, if its meaning were largely incomprehensible to its own age?
This particular passage of Revelation speaks to our contemporary world a message not so much of judgment as of hope. A powerful sign of that hope is the spiritual vision of that "great multitude that no one could count" (7:9). They are the communion of saints, and -- by the grace of God -- they are always with us, in good times and in bad.
When I was a boy, my father ran a men's clothing store. It was a small, family business: just my dad and his one employee, a leathery-skinned old gent by the name of Ed Harris.
To my brother and me, Ed seemed a hundred years old -- though, if truth be told, I do think he was still working well into his eighties. He'd been in the "haberdashery" business, as he liked to call it, more years than anyone could remember.
I used to enjoy going into that store. "Wilton & Woolley" was its name. My dad used to tell me that, since I was a Wilton too, it belonged to me. Every once in a while he'd give me a little whisk broom, and send me off to dust the shoulders and arms of all those men's suits that hung, like soldiers on parade, along the walls.
From time to time, somebody would ask why it was "Wilton & Woolley," not just "Wilton's Men's Shop." That was a fair question, because nobody ever worked there but my father and old Ed Harris. Some folks even thought "Woolley" referred to the wool sweaters and socks displayed on the racks.
The "Woolley" in "Wilton & Woolley" referred to a businessman of that name. He owned a large department store in another town. He was what the business world calls a "silent partner" -- an investor and part owner who hardly ever shows up.
That's the way it is with that "great multitude that no one could count." They are the communion of saints. For us Christians, they are our silent partners.
No struggle we confront in this life has not been faced -- and triumphed over -- by some other Christian before us. There is no sorrow or loss so deep that there is no one who can look upon us and share our pain. There is no moment when we are ever truly alone: as long as we remain in communion with the company of the faithful from every time and place.
Carter Shelley responds: Roger, the materials and interpretive strategies you offer for this week's lectionary texts work not only in our current context but also offer helpful insights for future sermons at both funerals and other times of specific congregational tragedy and loss. In fact, your brief opening comments on the four texts provides a great sermon outline for those who may choose not to emphasize Revelation over the other texts: (1) Acts: Death does not have the last word; (2) Psalm 23: We are not alone in the hard places; (3) John: Christ our Shepherd will guide us through whatever happens; and, (4) Revelation: We cannot escape life's miseries and losses but God will be with us offering help, hope, and a better future.
As a twentieth and twenty-first century Christian feminist I feel some frustration with the image of a bunch of "helpless, destitute, and grief-stricken" widows who cannot survive or function without Dorcas, their benefactor. But I say that from the luxurious perspective of a woman raised in a nation where many women have choices and some control over the kind of lives we lead. Were one to look not only at first-century Judaism's strictures on widows dependent upon male relatives for economic support but also at Roman matrons and other women of the Roman Empire, the parallels to the circumstance of Muslim widows in Bosnia, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Palestine -- not to mention young American current Iraq War widows and widowers who may lack both education and opportunities to help them deal with single parenting and the loss of a life partner -- pose the very real possibility that "helplessness, destitution, and grief" know no specific century or moment in history but are constants in history.
I always appreciate mainline ministers dealing with the book of Revelation from the pulpit. It is too easy for us to accede it to our more conservative brethren rather than directly educate and inform our own congregants of both its importance and meaning. While I have not read the Left Behind series and know that I should, because they are such a phenomenon and seem to present a "comeuppance" version of Revelation (undeniably, it's in the letter itself, but it's disturbing nonetheless), I suspect many of our church members have not read these books and won't know what you mean by "slick answers." Consequently, a more detailed description of their content as part of this week's sermon might be helpful.
As with The Da Vinci Code some works of fiction offer a wonderful opportunity for in depth study and exchange on the book of Revelation as interpreted by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins. It's probably time those of us who haven't offered a Sunday school class or weeknight study group did so. At the beginning of any class I teach on "The Christian Tradition" at Wake Forest University, I always invite the students to write down questions they'd like answered by the end of the course. The book of Revelation always engenders more interest than any other subject. An excellent resource for use both in preaching on Revelation and in teaching a class about it is William C. Pender's book Revelation in the Interpretation Bible Studies series (Louisville: Geneva Press, 1999).
Having spent Saturday with a group of friends who feel great despair over the American commitment to the morass in Iraq, current unemployment for blue collar workers in North Carolina, and great anxiety over the national budget deficit and the environment, it strikes me that every generation is convinced that the worst age of the world is the one in which they live. One of my elderly friends from England felt certain the world would end with the waste and horrors of World War I. Those who learned of Dachau and Auschwitz could imagine no worse possible moment in human history; yet Bosnia and Rwanda have produced equally awful examples of human depravity, insanity, and hate. What is perhaps different for Americans in 2004 is the reality that such evil infiltrated our own shores on 9/11 in a way we hadn't had to face before. Perhaps what can change for Americans now is that we read Revelation with an awareness that we too need its words of hope and faithfulness to keep us from returning to self-serving policies of isolationism but also to keep us praying, thinking, hoping, and seeking a better world for all. After all, Christ came to change the world and redeem it, not rescue us from it.
Hunger and thirst do indeed remain with us today. For many, many people in the world hunger and thirst are a daily reality. For many others, there is a genuine hunger and thirst for spiritual nourishment that our churches are called upon to help satisfy. Furthermore, there are many who hunger and thirst for abiding ethical standards in finances, in newspaper reporting, in our domestic and social lives, and, of course, in governmental accountability and candor.1
I guess a truism of humanity is we all suffer. We all suffer the loss of loved ones to death. Many suffer in other ways: persecution, exploitation, disenfranchisement, isolation, disease, hunger, war. But we do not all suffer equally. One explanation for the extraordinary success of Mel Gibson's movie The Passion stems from the powerful identification it revealed for many of the world's current day sufferers. Jesus' passion testifies to Christ's identification with our sufferings as well as our identifying with his. Whether reading of it in the Gospels or flinching at its potent brutality on film, Christians recognize that in his suffering and death Jesus experienced literal, physical suffering along with soul-wrenching emotional despair. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me," expresses Jesus own feeling that his God is out of reach and does not care. John, the author of Revelation, hears a similar cry coming from his Christian contemporaries. It is a cry we too may express audibly and painfully at our direst moments in life. What John reveals and what Jesus' resurrection affirms is God's presence no matter what. Death, especially the premature death of loved ones, often leads to inarticulate faith. We are struck speechless by the tragedy. Scripture steps in and speaks for us and to us as such times. In this week's lectionary texts, profound words provide for us what we cannot provide for ourselves.
Note
1. One of the ironies of a presidential campaign year is the inherent contradiction in the whole process. For a man (and I mean "man"; women haven't made it to this arena yet), the ambition and follow-through to run for president of the United States require incredible ego and self-interest. It is such a daunting job; it takes foolhardiness and denial of one's human limitations along with a strong sense of vision to even consider running for this office. Adjacent to this individualistic phenomenon is the appeal to human self-interest, not sacrifice, that helps a candidate woo and win the election. Rarely are we asked to give up for the benefit of others or for the overall common good. Instead we are urged to vote to our own economic and political advantage without thought or concern for the consequences to others.
George Murphy responds: For many in my tradition, and especially for Lutherans from a Norwegian background, the text from Revelation immediately calls to mind a hymn by Hans Brorson, "Den Store Hvide Flok" ("the great host in white," commonly known as "Behold a Host"):
Who is this host arrayed in white
Like thousand snow-clad mountains bright,
That stands with palms and sings its psalms
Before the throne of light? ...
(Lutheran Book of Worship, hymn 314)
It is often sung at funerals. The thought, of course, is that the Christian who has died has joined this company around God's throne. It's a comforting thought -- but is it what the book of Revelation is talking about?
Well, yes and no -- and then yes again. The hope that is expressed here is one that is appropriate for all Christians. But Revelation was written in a time of persecution, and its author was especially concerned to encourage believers to remain faithful even when they were threatened with death because of their trust in Christ. In the scene that is pictured in our text, the "host arrayed in white" seems to be the martyrs, those who have given their lives it witness (martyria) to the faith. (Cf. G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine [New York: Harper & Row, 1966], pp. 93-103.)
And the popular idea that all believers go to heaven when they die is not the impression that we get from Revelation. Here the souls of the martyrs find in heaven a temporary refuge from the turmoil that's taking place on earth (e.g., 6:9-11). But in the general resurrection things move in the opposite direction. It is not a matter of people going to heaven but of the holy city coming down from heaven to a renewed earth (21:2ff.). The closing scenes of Revelation, when the defeat of sin is final and death will be no more, take place not in heaven but on the new earth.
These distinctions are necessary for an understanding of the text, but most of us will not be preaching to persecuted Christians and we certainly don't live at the end of the first century. It's always appropriate for the church to honor those who are martyrs in the traditionally strict sense, those who have been killed "because of hatred of the faith." But they do not constitute a qualitatively superior class of Christians. The hope of the martyrs is that of all those who trust in Christ and who take up their crosses to follow him.
It may, however, be worth pointing out that the great multitude of our text "have come out of the great ordeal" -- or, as Caird translates (because erchomenoi is a present participle) -- "are coming through the great ordeal." They are not people who have succeeded in avoiding the ordeal because the expression of their faith has never had a high enough profile to provoke persecution. (Think of the old question, "If Christianity were a crime, would there be enough evidence to convict you?") And they are also not Christians who -- as pre-tribulation rapturists imagine -- been snatched out of the world so that they don't have to go through the ordeal. Those who write or buy into things like the Left Behind series of course manage to fit the scene in our text into their scheme, but that whole scheme is spurious because, among other things, one of the marks of the church is the cross -- not sitting safe in heaven watching other people suffer.
More important than the details of who makes up the host arrayed in white is the identity of their leader. The language of verse 17 clearly comes from Psalm 23, but it is used in a surprising way: It is a lamb who will shepherd them and lead them "beside still waters." But not just any lamb. The shepherd is Christ, "the Lamb that was slaughtered" (5:12). He does not simply order us to pass through the valley of the shadow of death but leads us through it, having passed through that valley himself. He is (as verses before this week's Gospel reading say) the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. And because he lays down his life and takes it up again, he can say of his sheep that "no one will snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:18, 28).
Related Illustrations
In January 1995 the Reverend Bryant Wilson of Montgomery, Alabama, was diagnosed with muscle lymphoma. He underwent several courses of chemotherapy with recurrences of cancer every time. As a last ditch effort, he endured the rigors of a bone marrow transplant. Medicine played its last card. During this time he wrote a series of reflections on his struggles, which he sent to friends and parishioners. Here is one example:
"Tightrope"
"I walk a tightrope. And I dare not look down.
"I assume that most of you have heard the discouraging word I received from my doctors this past week. Despite their best efforts, and mine and yours, the cancer we would wish away and pray away has returned.
"And now I walk a tightrope.
"As I hang precariously balanced I find keeping balance is not easy to do. On one side is the reality that all of us die, even men in their early 50s. Cancer is no respecter of persons. It can take us all ...
* The Young and the Old ...
* The Rich and the Poor ...
* The Famous and the Infamous ...
* Those that some would think deserve it
* And those who don't.
* And me.
"Denial is only foolish.
"On the other side is Faith. The kind of faith that knows miracles can and do happen. God can and does intervene. Prayers are answered. Bodies are healed. Cancers are banished and vanish ... Without explanation. Unpredictable. Wonderfully.
"Denial refuses the Unseen Mystery of life.
"To embrace both realities is difficult. It is easy to embrace one and deny the other -- to accept death and deny hope, to cling to faith and deny death.
"I live on a tightrope. But I know that, where I to fall, it matters not on which wide I fall. Faith always wins. Why? Underneath are the Everlasting Arms."
* * *
Luther Thompson, a minister, tells about a man who was impressed by the woman who came to clean his hotel room every day. She claimed she was happy because she was a Christian. The preacher asked: "Do all the people around here enjoy their religion the way you do?" "Them that has it does," she said. "That's the way you know they got it."
* * *
Patrick Overton writes in The Learning Tree:
When we walk to the edge of all the light we have
And take that step into the darkness of the unknown,
We must believe that one of two things will happen --
There will be something solid for us to stand on,
Or, we will be taught how to fly.
* * *
Frederick Buechner answers "Who are these" that come to church on Sunday in a beautiful way in his book on preaching, Telling the Truth (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1977), pp. 22, 23:
In the front pews the old ladies turn up their hearing aids, and a young lady slips her six-year-old a Lifesaver and a Magic Marker. A college sophomore home for vacation, who is there because he was dragged there, slumps forward with his chin in his hand. The vice-president of a bank who twice a week has seriously contemplated suicide places his hymnal in the rack. A high-school math teacher, who for twenty years has managed to keep his homosexuality a secret for the most part even from himself, creases his order of service down the center with his thumbnail and tucks it under his knee....
* * *
"The preacher pulls the little cord that turns on the lectern light and deals out his note cards like a riverboat gambler. The stakes have never been higher..."
* * *
Fred Craddock tells a story illustrating the present power of the communion of saints. It goes something like this:
It seems there was a young woman who learned she had a potentially fatal illness. She had surgery, and then some treatments. For a time she was able to get on with her life but then, at a routine check-up, she learned the dread disease was back.
There was more surgery, and further treatment. This time it took more out of her. Recovery was slower. But the patient persevered, and returned to her life again.
Some years later, during another routine check-up, she learned the disease had once again returned. This time, the prognosis was grim. She spent some time talking with her friends; she prayed; and she decided there would be no more surgery, no more heavy treatments. The young woman went home. Her friends gathered round.
One day, Death came and knocked at the door. Her friends rushed to the door and leaned against it, to keep Death out. Death went away.
But Death came back, and this time Death not only knocked, Death leaned on the door as though to push it in. The young woman's friends leaned against it all the harder. Death went away.
A short while later, Death came calling again. Death knocked on the door and leaned against the door. The friends made as if to stand against it but the young woman said no, move away. They looked at her as though she were crazy. She couldn't possibly know what she was saying. They refused to obey.
But she told them again, in a louder voice, to move away from the door. When they saw the steely determination in her eyes, they knew she meant what she said, so they moved away. Sensing no resistance, Death pushed open the door and came into the room. The young woman was sitting, propped up on pillows waiting for Death, looking Death right in the eye.
When Death saw the strength of her spirit, Death looked beaten and ashamed. Death took her, then but Death knew that, by the power of Jesus Christ, and by the witness of the communion of saints gathered there in that room, there was no triumph to be had that day. Death had been beaten again.
* * *
Sometimes it's revealing to see our culture as it's viewed from overseas. Such is the case with the following recent article from Britain's Guardian newspaper, which comments upon the links between "rapture" theology and current efforts to influence U.S. Policy toward the Middle East, so as to hasten the "rapture." An excerpt:
"In the United States, several million people have succumbed to an extraordinary delusion. In the 19th century, two immigrant preachers cobbled together a series of unrelated passages from the Bible to create what appears to be a consistent narrative: Jesus will return to Earth when certain preconditions have been met. The first of these was the establishment of a state of Israel. The next involves Israel's occupation of the rest of its "biblical lands" (most of the Middle East), and the rebuilding of the Third Temple on the site now occupied by the Dome of the Rock and al-Aqsa mosques. The legions of the antichrist will then be deployed against Israel, and their war will lead to a final showdown in the valley of Armageddon. The Jews will either burn or convert to Christianity, and the Messiah will return to Earth.
What makes the story so appealing to Christian fundamentalists is that before the big battle begins, all "true believers" (i.e., those who believe what they believe) will be lifted out of their clothes and wafted up to heaven during an event called the Rapture. Not only do the worthy get to sit at the right hand of God, but they will be able to watch, from the best seats, their political and religious opponents being devoured by boils, sores, locusts and frogs, during the seven years of Tribulation which follow.
-- George Monbiot, "Their Beliefs Are Bonkers, but They Are at the Heart of Power: US Christian Fundamentalists Are Driving Bush's Middle East Policy," in The Guardian, Tuesday, April 20, 2004; http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,12271,1195728,00.html
* * *
The following article, "The End of the World," is also worth consulting for background information on premillennial dispensationalism: http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0218/p11s01-lire.html
-- Jane Lampman, "The End of the World," in The Christian Science Monitor, February 18, 2004
* * *
"God is portrayed as a mass of vagueness behind a veil of enigmas (even in the church), and His voice has become alien to our minds, to our hearts, to our souls. This is the status of the Bible today: it is a sublime answer, but we do not know the question any more....
"The surest way of misunderstanding revelation is take it literally, to imagine that God spoke to the prophet on a long-distance telephone. The truth is that things and words stand for different meanings in different situations. Gold means wealth to the merchant, a means of adornment to the jeweler, and kindness to the rhetorician (a golden heart). Light is a form of energy to the physicist, a medium of loveliness to the artist, and an expression of grandeur in the first chapter of the Bible. Ruah, the Hebrew word for spirit, signifies also breath, wind, and direction. And he who thinks only of breath forfeits the deeper meaning of the word....
" 'God spoke.' The truth is that what is literally true to us is a metaphor compared with what is in essence real to God. And when applied to Him our mightiest words are feeble understatements. The nature of revelation, being an event in the realm of the ineffable, is something which words cannot spell, which human language will never be able to portray. In speaking of revelation, the more descriptive the terms, the less adequate is the description. The words in which the prophets attempted to relate their experiences were not photographs but illustrations, not descriptions but songs."
-- Abraham Joseph Heschel, Between God and Man
* * *
"The true eschatological banquet is not that of the birds on the bodies of the slain. It is the feast of the living, the wedding banquet of the Lamb. The true eschatological convocation is not the crowding of armies on the field of battle, but the summons of the Great Joy, the cry of deliverance: 'Come out of her, my people, that you may not share in her sins and suffer from her plagues!' (Revelation 18:4). The cry of the time of the end was uttered also in the beginning by Lot in Sodom, to his sons-in-law: 'Come, get out of this city, for the Lord will destroy it. But he seemed to them to be jesting' (Genesis 19:14).
"To leave the city of death and imprisonment is surely not bad news except to those who have so identified themselves with their captivity that they can conceive no other reality and no other condition. In such a case, there is nothing but tribulation: for while to stay in captivity is tragic, to break away from it is unthinkable -- and so more tragic still.
"What is needed then is the grace and courage to see that 'the Great Tribulation' and 'the Great Joy' are really inseparable, and that the 'Tribulation' becomes 'Joy' when it is seen as the victory of life over death....
"Eschatology is not fines and punishment, the winding up of accounts and the closing of books: it is the final beginning, the definitive birth into a new creation. It is not the last gasp of exhausted possibilities but the first taste of all that is beyond conceiving as actual."
-- Thomas Merton, "The Time of No Room," From Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas (Plough Publishing House, 2001)
* * *
"We must never speak to simple, excitable people about 'the Day' without emphasizing again and again the utter impossibility of prediction. We must try to show them that that impossibility is an essential part of the doctrine. If you do not believe our Lord's words, why do you believe in His return at all? And if you do believe them, must you not put away from you, utterly and forever, any hope of dating that return?"
-- C. S. Lewis, "The World's Last Night"
* * *
"Rumors of this world's demise have been greatly exaggerated. Consider the example of William Miller, a Baptist farmer from New York who was convinced that Christ would return to earth in the early 1840s. With the assistance of Boston preacher Joshua Himes, Miller persuaded tens of thousands of Christians that the 'day of the Lord' was at hand. Some followers even quit jobs and sold property in anticipation of the Second Coming. What came instead was the so-called Great Disappointment, and with it the discrediting of William Miller. Within a short time, however, Miller's shoes were filled by others who reinterpreted the texts, reworked the math, and issued new and equally assured predictions....
"Ancient apocalypses were written primarily in times of distress and dislocation. The vision they convey is at once a testimony of faith, a call to endurance, and a critique of present reality. That last point is often missed. One's dreams for the future are to an extent the photonegative of one's dissatisfactions with the present. The author of Revelation saw the Roman Empire as a demonic beast, the embodiment of evil, whose destiny was destruction. Against a background of persecution and oppression, the book asserts the counterclaims of God's reign, characterized by justice and peace."
-- Craig C. Hill, Professor of New Testament at Wesley Theological Seminary, Washington, D.C., "The End of the World--Again: Current Interest in the End Times Isn't Unique," The Dallas Morning News, 10/26/2002
* * *
A local priest and pastor stood by the side of the road. Doing their good deed for the day, they were holding up a sign that said, "The End Is Near! Turn yourself around now before it's too late!" They planned to hold up the sign to each passing car.
"Leave us alone, you religious nuts!" yelled the first driver who sped by. From around the curve they heard a big splash. "Do you think," said one clergy to the other, "we should just put up a sign that says 'bridge out' instead?"
Worship Resources
by George Reed
OPENING
Music
Hymns
"The Lord's My Shepherd, I'll Not Want." Words: Scottish Psalter, 1650; music: Jesse Seymour Irvine, 1872; harm. TCL Pritchard, 1929. Harm. (c) Oxford University Press. As found in UMH 136; Hymnal '82; LBOW 451; TPH 170; CH 78.
"We Gather Together" (not just for Thanksgiving Day). Words: Nederlandtsch Gedencklanck, 1626; trans. Theodore Baker 1894; music: 16th c. Dutch melody; arr. Edward Kremser, 1877. Public domain. As found in UMH 131; Hymnal '82 433; TPH 559; AAHH 343; TNNBH 326; TNCH 421; CH 276.
"Sing Praise to God Who Reigns Above." Words: Johann J. Schutz, 1675 trans. Frances E. Cox, 1864; music: Bohemian Brethren's Kirchengesange, 1566; harm. Maurice F. Bell, 1906. Public domain. As found in UMH 126; Hymnal '82 408; LBOW 542; TPH 483; TNCH 6; CH 6.
"Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah." Words: William Williams, 1745; trans. Peter Williams and the author, 1771; music: John Hughes, 1907. Public domain. As found in UMH 127; Hymnal '82 690; LBOW 343; AAHH 139, 140; TNNBH 323; TNCH 18, 19; CH 622.
"O God, Our Help in Ages Past." Words: Isaac Watts, 1719; music: attr. William Croft, 1708; harm. W. H. Monk, 1861. Public domain. As found in UMH 117; Hymnal '82 680; LBOW 320; TPH 281; AAHH 170; TNNBH 46; TNCH 25; CH 67.
"A Mighty Fortress Is Our God." Words: Martin Luther, ca. 1529; trans. Frederick H. Hedge, 1853; music: Martin Luther, ca. 1529; harm. The New Hymnal for American Youth, 1930. Public domain. As found in UMH 110; Hymnal '82 687, 688; LBOW: 228, 229; TPH: 259, 260; AAHH 124; TNNBH 37; TNCH 439, 440; CH 65.
Songs
"From the Rising of the Sun." Words and music: Anon. Public domain. As found in CCB 4.
"I Will Call upon the Lord." Words and music: Michael O'Shields. (c) 1981 Sound III and All Nations Music. As found in CCB 9.
"Sing unto the Lord a New Song." Words: Jewish folk song; music: Jewish folk song; arr. J. Michail Bryan. Arr. (c) 1996 Abingdon Press. As found in CCB16.
CALL TO WORSHIP
Leader: God is our shepherd,
People: We shall have no wants.
Leader: God makes us lie down in green pastures;
People: and leads me beside still waters.
Leader: We are led in right paths for God's name's sake.
People: Our souls are restored.
COLLECT / OPENING PRAYER
O God who has been our Shepherd throughout all time: Grant us the faith we need to trust you in this time and in this place; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
or
God, you are the One who has led us and been our Shepherd throughout all of existence. From your word of creation to your word that decrees your Reign has fully come, you are with us. When things look dark, dangerous, and unsteady help us to trust in you all the more. Amen.
Response music
Hymns
"Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." Words: Elisha A Hoffman, 1887; music: Anthony J. Showalter, 1887. Public domain. As found in UMH 133; AAHH 371; TNNBH 262; TNCH 471; CH 560.
"All My Hope Is Firmly Grounded." Words: Joachim Neander, 1680; trans. Fred Pratt Green 1986; music: Herbert Howells, 1930, 1977. Trans. (c) 1989 Hope Publishing Co; Music (c) 1968 Movellow and Co., Ltd. As found in UMH 132; Hymnal '82 665; TNCH 408; CH 88.
"O Mary, Don't You Weep." Words: African American spiritual; music: African American spiritual; adapt. and arr. William Farley Smith, 1986. Adapt. and arr. (c) 1989 The United Methodist Publishing House. As found in UMH 134.
"He Leadeth Me: O Blessed Thought." Words: Joseph H. Gilmoe, 1862; music: William B. Bradbury, 1864. Public domain. As found in UMH 128; Hymnal '82; LBOW 501; AAHH 142; TNNBH 235; CH 545.
"Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us." Words: attr. to Dorothy A. Thrupp, 1836; music: William B. Bradbury, 1859. Public domain. As found in UMH 381; Hymnal '82 708; LBOW 481; TPH 387; AAHH 424; TNNBH 54; TNCH 252; CH 558.
"It Is Well with My Soul." Words: Horatio G. Spafford, 1873; music: Philip P. Bliss, 1878. Public domain. As found in UMH 377; AAHH 377; TNNBH 255; CH 561.
Songs
"All I Need Is You." Words and music: Dan Adler; arr. Nylea L. Butler-Moore (c) 1989. As found in CCB 100.
"May You Run and Not Be Weary." Words and music: Paul Murakami and Handt Hanson; arr. Henry Wiens; arr. adapt. Nylea L. Butler-Moore. (c) 1991 Changing Church Forum. As found in CCB 99.
"Soon and Very Soon." Words: Andrae Crouch; music: Andrae Crouch; adapt. William Farley Smith. (c) 1978 by Bud John Songs, Inc. and Crouch Music. As found in CCB 93.
"Give Thanks." Words and music: Henry Smith. (c) 1978 Integrity's Hosanna! Music. As found in CCB 92.
"O Eagle's Wings." Words and music: Michael Joncas, 1979. (c) 1979 New Dawn Music. As found in Renew: Songs and Hymns for Blended Worship 112, or chorus only in UMH 143; CCB 97.
PRAYERS OF CONFESSION / PARDON
Leader: We are people who trust in many persons and things. We try to trust in God but we often fail. Let us confess our failures of faith and trust to God and before our sisters and brothers.
People: We come in humility to confess to you, O God, the failures of our lives. Most of all we confess that we have failed to trust in you with all our hearts, minds, and lives. We have leaned on others and they have failed us. We have sought answers from others and they have proved false. You are our only sure hope. Help us to trust that you love us in spite of our mistrust and that you will continue to be with us always. Amen.
Leader: Hear the Good News! God is the Faithful One. God loves us and never leaves us. We are God's forgiven flock. The Shepherd comes to lead us.
GENERAL PRAYERS, LITANIES, ETC.
We worship and adore you, Good Shepherd of all creation. From the beginning when your spirit hovered over the waters of chaos and brought forth all that is, you have been the constant caretaker of creation. When you created us, you breathed into us your own spirit and life to make us your presence in the midst of creation. You are, indeed, a faithful God.
(The following paragraph is most suitable if a prayer of confession will not be used elsewhere.)
We confess to you and before one another that we have not been faithful. We have been led astray through our failure to trust in you. Though you have given us every reason to have faith in your loving kindness, we have run from you and tried to live our lives apart from you. We are but silly sheep who are in desperate need of a Shepherd. Forgive our foolish ways and gather us, once more, into your fold.
We give you thanks for all the ways in which your faithfulness has been shown to us. We thank you for creation and the abundance of the earth. Help us to share its resources more fully. We thank you for the beauty that surrounds us. Help us to act in beautiful ways toward others. We thank you most of all for your faithfulness and love as we have experienced it in Jesus Christ. Help us to share that grace with others and to continue his mission.
(Other specific thanksgiving may be offered.)
We lift up to your faithful love the cares of our hearts. There are those who are sick and dying. There is much violence and injustice in the world and in our neighborhoods. Grant that we may be your healing presence to the world you love so dearly.
(Other petitions may be offered.)
All these prayers we offer in the Name of Jesus who taught us to pray, saying, "Our Father ..."
Hymnal & Songbook Abbreviations
UMH: United Methodist Hymnal
Hymnal '82: The Hymnal 1982, The Episcopal Church
LBOW: Lutheran Book of Worship
TPH: The Presbyterian Hymnal
AAHH: African American Heritage Hymnal
TNNBH: The New National Baptist Hymnal
TNCH: The New Century Hymnal
CH: Chalice Hymnal
CCB: Cokesbury Chorus Book
PMMCH3: Praise. Maranatha! Music Chorus Book, Expanded 3rd Edition
A Children's Sermon
He Cares For Our Hurts
by Wesley T. Runk
Text: And God will wipe every tear from their eyes. (v. 17b)
Object: a box of tissues
Good morning, boys and girls. How many of you have ever felt so sad and blue that you wanted to sit down somewhere and cry big tears? Not many of us like to talk about those times, and I know a lot of boys who will tell you that they never cry. But I know differently. Boys cry just as girls cry when they are hurt, or when they feel like they have done something terrible and don't know what else to do. I remember a lot of times when I have been hurt and the tears come to my eyes faster than the awful feelings come to my tummy. Feeling bad and crying just go together. A tear can be a beautiful thing when it is a tear of sorrow. Most people don't cry when they feel hate or anger, but when they are hurt or are sorry they have tears.
I have something that goes along with tears. I imagine that one of these has been used on almost every boy and girl who has ever had a tear. Do you know what we call one of these things that I have in my hand? (let them answer) That's right; tissues. It feels good when your mother or father brushes away the tears with this very gentle tissue paper. It feels soft, and somehow it helps you to know that things are going to be all right. I remember that I used to think that my mother cared a lot when she would take a tissue out of her purse and wipe away my tears with it. And when I knew that she cared I knew that everything was going to be all right.
The Bible tells us that God does a lot of things that our mother and fathers do. As a matter of fact, the Bible tells us that another name for God is Father. Jesus called God his Father. One of the things that the Bible tells us that our Father in heaven is going to do is wipe away all of our tears when we join him in his new world. When we come to him it may be because we have been sick or injured, or just plain worn out, but the Bible tells us that when we come close to God, he is going to wipe away our tears. He is going to make us feel a lot better. Do you remember that no matter how bad you felt when you were crying, after your mother or father wiped away your tears you were laughing in minutes? I think that is what the Bible is talking about when it mentions that God our Father is going to wipe away our tears. It sure makes you feel good to know that he cares.
The next time that you see a tissue, I want you to think about how much God cares and how he makes us happy by taking care of our hurts.
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The Immediate Word, May 2, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503
