REVELATION 21:10, 21:22-27, 22:1-5
10And in the spirit he carried me away to a great, high
mountain
and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.
22 I saw no temple in the city,for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb.
the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it,
23 And for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb.
24The nations will walk by its light,and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.
25Its gates will never be shut by day-and there will be no
night there.
26People will bring into it the glory and the honor of the
nations.
27But nothing unclean will enter it,nor anyone who practices abomination or falsehood,
but only those who are written in the Lamb's book of life.
flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb
2 through the middle of the street of the city.
On either side of the river is the tree of life with its
twelve kinds of fruit,
producing its fruit each month;and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the
nations.
3Nothing accursed will be found there any more.But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it,
and his servants will worship him;4they will see his face, and his name will be on their
foreheads.
5And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp
or sun,
for the Lord God will be their light,
and they will reign forever and ever.
******************What is your favorite city? What is it’s best view? Have you ever looked down on
a city in awe? I have a few favorite cities. I love San Francisco, the fog
and the
breaking sunshine, the water and the bridge, the hippy
streets of Haight-Ashbury and
the spanish streets of the Mission
district, and tourists and locals in Chrissy Field, and
people walking around with yoga mats and flowing clothes,
and ducking into
bookstores. I love walking across the bridge and up the hill
behind it. From this vantage
the whole city seems one, covered in the same fog, the same
sunshine, or preparing for
the clouds rolling in. The hills which break up the view
down below seem to gently roll
together creating the city as a whole. It is a great view up
the hill past the San Francisco
Bridge.
I also love Charleston, and I once read that the way to enter that city was not by
land coming in through its backside and lost streets, but
instead to enter the city from
the Atlantic, to sail in
just as those first Europeans did, where you see the city as a
whole, the giant homes and city wall, standing as a fortress
against both enemy ships
and weather. Hidden is the ugly history of the salve markets
and plantations, of the
prejudice that still resides there and the poverty that
divides much along racial lines.
From the sea, the conflicts of the city are muted and light
plays against Charleston,
displaying the city and the sea in great pastels. The ocean
is the way to view
Charleston.
In Colorado Springs
I would go on a hike at the Western edge of town and before
too long I would be high enough to view the entire city.
Having researched much of its
history, I could both see its current form, and imagine its
beginning. I could view the
urban sprawl, and the few streets that were first inhabited
with the mines. It was a good
way to see Colorado
Springs, because in the midst of it, the city can seem
very run
down, with buildings and homes begging for repairs and new
paint. With hundreds of
homeless begging for food, or money for drugs. The city down
below is seen with
liberals and Christian conservatives staking out buildings
downtown like a property
war. But high up in the Red Rock Canyon Open Space the city
seems harmonious, and
its poverty fades away into the vast landscape out to the
East. From the mountain top is
the place to see Colorado
Springs.
Just yesterday, driving back to our city, I was appreciating the view, where you
come up over the ridge and begin to see the mountains and
then you start dropping
back down and you see Baker City
spread out in the valley below the mountains. And
looking far off to the East the Wallowa mountain range
beckons, letting you know your
home in between. Its a nice way to see our city. Perhaps the
best way. When you get
down into it there are streets which are nicer than others.
Here too there are homes and
buildings begging for repair and a fresh coat of paint. Here
too there are debates with
the forests and the ranches. Sometimes when you get down
into it, its not as pretty as
when your looking from farther away, from up above. I love
that drive which brings
you into our town.
In today’s scripture, there is that same kind of mountain top experience. That same
kind of view. In John’s dream, the Spirit has carried him up
to a great high mountain,
and showed him the city of Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.
Instead of
seeing the temple on the city’s highest point, there is no
temple. God is no longer in one
place; God has come down and covered the city. God has
bathed the city in light, so
much so, that there is no longer night or even need of lamp
light. For the Lord is the
light and has brought it abundantly, blindingly. Likewise
the nations are all walking and
following the light of God. There is no division, or war, or
debate, but instead life itself
is a common worship of the Lamb for all tribes and peoples.
Likewise, the relationships
between people are righted. No one is unclean, or false, or
practices abomination. There
are no lies, no separation of families, no murder, no
infidelity, no addiction, no
heartbreak, and no pain. From high up, looking down on the
new Jerusalem, all these
things are gone, and beauty is in its place.
An angel shows John a river as bright as crystal, and on either side the tree of life
bears good fruit. There are no wily serpents, or tempted
humans. Instead their are
twelve kinds of fruit, always producing, and the leaves of
the fruit are for the healing of
the nations. No more Babel,
no more floods, but leaves for healing from the tree of life.
And in this new Jerusalem God reigns not from on high, not from the mountain top, but
from the city streets, and from the people themselves, and
the people will worship God.
God’s name will be written on their foreheads, that
everything that might be said, might
be a word of peace and love. That through them, and by God,
God’s light will shine on
this city forever and ever.
What a view John gets to have, and how hard will it be for John to come back
down from the mountain, how hard will it be for John to wake
up from his dreaming.
How hard is it for us sometimes to come down from that ridge
above the city, and into
the places where reality makes things ugly again. How hard
it is when all we see are
partly run down streets and broken relationships, and debate
signs, and to-do lists to be
done. How hard it is to remember that this place too is
where God has settled down like
morning dew, to anoint this place, to cover this place with
the Lamb, and with the
Spirit. What do we need to do to remember that God has
settled here, that we are the
church both inside this place, and in our relationships with
each other and the earth
outside. How can we continue to look to the hills from where
our help comes when we
are stuck in the city? How do we not forget about our dreams
when the mourning
comes?
I think we have to look for the places where we see God in our midst. Last week
when I asked you where you saw God, your answers were
incredible, and they were
answers that came from life in the city. You saw God from
Open Door mornings, to
specific people in this church, to sunshine and warmth and
flowers and trees, to
people’s kindness, to those helping in our community, to
teachers, to friends eating and
dancing together, to dogs, the opening of aspen leaves,
and being safe, in the birth of
little ones, in the unconditional love of family and
friends, in life long friendships, in
the alpine glow of the mountains, and the birds searching
for food, in the drifting
cherry blossoms, in an adult telling a child they how
wonderful they are, in family
praising God, unexpected acts of kindness, in doctors who
are missionaries, in
sunflowers, in the eyes of a husband and children, in nature
and its instincts and stars at
night, in sunrise and sunsets and everything in between, in
Hell’s Canyon, in
meaningful work and moving to Baker City,
in the love and care of foster parents, in
the help of neighbors, in rainbows, in pets, and someone
wrote the words, “here.”
That is where the new Jerusalem lies. It lies here. We can
see it from the
mountains, but we can also find God living in the valley.
Here is where the new Jerusalem lies. Here in this valley. Alleluia, Amen.
Here is where the new Jerusalem lies. Here in this valley. Alleluia, Amen.
