Revelation 21: 1-6a (links validated 9/18/24a)

Led and prompted by the Spirit, preachers want to decide how to proceed with a proclamation of Revelation 21:1-6. We might at least consider making substantial use of C.S. Lewis’ new creation imagery. He especially beautifully reimagines the new earth and heaven in his final Chronicles of Narnia book, The Last Battle. One of its children, Lucy, says about its transformed Narnia, “’Those hills, the nice woody ones and the blue ones behind — aren’t they very like the southern border of Narnia? “’Like!?” cried Edmund after a moment’s silence. ‘Why they’re exactly like …’ ’And yet …” said Lucy. ‘They’re different. They have more colors on them … and they’re more …’ ’More like the real thing,” said the Lord Digory softly. “Suddenly Farsight the Eagle spread his wings, soared thirty or forty feet up into the air, circled round and then alighted on the ground. ’Kings and Queens,’ he cried, ‘We are only beginning to see where we are … Narnia is not dead. This is Narnia.’ ’The Eagle is right,’ said the Lord Digory. ‘The Narnia you’re thinking of … was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia.’ “’All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as a real thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream … “ Lewis adds, “The new [Narnia] was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better than that: if you ever get there, you will know what I mean.” Both the Scriptures and C.S. Lewis suggest the new earth and heaven, as well as those who fill it will be somehow similar to this creation and its creatures...

What happens after we die? It’s the kind of question most of us tuck away, hoping we won’t have to face it until absolutely necessary—until life, or a random headline, brings it out of hiding. That happened not long ago when Keanu Reeves’ name started trending—not for his latest film, but because he’d been asked this very question on The Late Show. Most people expected a joke. Instead, Keanu paused and quietly said, “I know the ones who love us will miss us.” The entire audience went quiet. It wasn’t the answer anyone anticipated. That answer—the honesty, the vulnerability—struck a chord. It was a moment of real humanity in a world that often moves too fast for reflection. If you know Keanu’s story, you understand why. He’s walked through deep loss—his daughter, his long-time girlfriend friends. He’s carried grief in public, retreated with it in private. So when he says, “the ones who love us will miss us,” it’s not just a platitude. It’s something true, born out of pain. Maybe that’s why so many people felt seen by his words...

It is our faith that God made all things and makes them all anew in the risen Lord who gave us this command: “Love one another. Such as my love has been for you, so must your love be for each other.” When we fear and grieve, time seems to drag cruelly. We delight, and it hurtles by, uncaring. We shall never grasp the meaning of time and its preciousness, or eternity and its promise, if we do not learn to love. There is a verse, so common it is attributed to many authors, which goes: Time is too slow for those who wait. Time is too fast for those who fear. Time is too long for those who mourn. Time is too short for those who rejoice. But for those who love, Time is eternity...

To reach the New Jerusalem, God gives us a special food. A famous story can help understand the food God gives us. Some of you have read The Lord of the Rings or seen the movie. It's about a journey. Frodo, accompanied by Samwise, leaves his home, the Shire, to take the evil ring to Mordor, Mount Doom. There, a consuming fire can destroy the one ring. The journey seems impossible - so many obstacles, vicious opposition and suffering. What sustains Frodo and Sam on the journey? You probably remember - a wonderful bread called Lembos. A small piece gives renewed energy and strength. J.R.R. Tolkien - the author of Lord of the Rings - speaks about this Sacred Bread, the Eucharist. He actually received Communion daily. When his son was struggling with his faith, Tolkien wrote: "Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament....There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves on earth..."

Jack is the twelve year-old the narrator of Gary Schmidt’s powerful book, Orbiting Jupiter. When not attending school, he spends a lot of time working with his foster brother Joseph for and with his dad on their family farm. He has a particular warm spot in his heart for their family cow, Quintus Sertorius. Jack tells of a day on the farm when “The sun was out and the sky too bright a blue to look at as the snow melted off the yews and came clumping down. The cows were as restless as spring, thinking there might be new grass out in the fields, even though the snow was still pretty deep. “And Quintus Sertorius would not stay in his stall. So after school Joseph and I took him out of the paddock to let him walk around … Quintus Sertorius snorted and snickered and swished his tail high and did everything he could to tell us how happy he was that spring was coming, even though it was still a long way off.” Looking at and experiencing of all that, Jack muses, “Sometimes it’s like that. You know something good is coming, and even though it’s not there yet, still, just knowing it’s coming (italics added) is enough to make you snort and nicker. Sort of.”

In his book, A Room Called Remember, Frederick Buechner writes, “Who is this God and how is he with us? ‘The high and lofty One who inhabits eternity’ is the answer to the first. The One who is with us is the One whom none can look upon because the space-and-time human mind can no more comprehend fully the spaceless, timeless Reality of the One than the eyes of the blind can comprehend light. The One who is with us is the One who has made himself known at most only partially and dimly through the pantomime of nature and history and the eloquent but always garbled utterance of prophets, saints, and mystics.”

“What happens after we die?” This was the headline that was “trending” Monday afternoon alongside pictures of none other than actor Keanu Reeves, a film star whose latest movie, John Wick: Chapter 3, opened this weekend. I’ll be honest, I initially rolled my eyes and dismissed it thinking that this was going to go down some New-Agey, secular rabbit hole that I didn’t even want to look into, let alone start debating, discussing, or fighting about with people online. Nevertheless, my damn ADD got the better of me, and I hit the back arrow on the web browser to check out the story: Keanu Reeves was on The Late Show on CBS last week promoting his film, and as the host Steven Colbert often likes to do in these types of interviews, he’ll throw out a question that seems random and somewhat flippant as to elicit a dramatic reaction from his guest. Accordingly, Colbert asked Reeves, “What happens after we die?”, which was initially met with scattered laughter and amusement. Reeves then took a moment’s pause and simply said, “I know the ones who love us will miss us.” The audience awwed and Colbert gently reached out to shake Reeves’ hand, and you could tell that although the question was intended to be humorous, it very quickly turned into a deeply personal and intimate moment in what was an otherwise typical late-night TV interview. What many probably don’t know was that Reeves has faced tragedy throughout his career...

This vision of the old becoming new is revealed in the final volume of C. S. Lewis’ Narnia series. In The Last Battle, Lewis describes how the Old Narnia, the Narnia we encounter in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, comes to an end. Old Narnia faces its greatest challenge from within as treachery and deceit enters the land when a talking ape named Shift comes across the skin of a lion and convinces Puzzle the Donkey to become a false Aslan.

One of Robert Frost’s most beloved poems is “The Death of the Hired Man.” It tells the rather lengthy story of Warren and Mary, a farm couple, and Silas, their longtime hired man. Some months ago, Silas left the farm where he had worked for so many years. Times were tough, and he thought Warren didn’t pay him enough. Warren told him at the time that if he left, he would not be welcomed back. But now Silas has returned, and it is obvious that he is very seriously ill. Silas has one brother to whom he is not close, and he has not had his own home really since childhood. Now, weak and tired, he returns to Warren and Mary’s farm, really the only home he knows—returns, as it turns out, to die...

It is our faith that God made all things and makes them all anew in the risen Lord who gave us this command: “Love one another. Such as my love has been for you, so must your love be for each other.” When we fear and grieve, time seems to drag cruelly. We delight, and it hurtles by, uncaring. We shall never grasp the meaning of time and its preciousness, or eternity and its promise, if we do not learn to love. There is a verse, so common it is attributed to many authors, which goes: Time is too slow for those who wait. Time is too fast for those who fear. Time is too long for those who mourn. Time is too short for those who rejoice. But for those who love, Time is eternity...

He has many critics, as a man and a moviemaker, but in his movie “The Passion of the Christ” (2004) Mel Gibson reset a line of Scripture, and, in that act of artistry, revealed the deepest of truths. Here’s the scene. Mary sees her son Jesus fall under the weight of his cross. She remembers running to her child when he fell. Despite the crowd and his captors, she races to her adult son. Raising his bloodied face from the earth, she offers the greatest of comfort, though it is only the words, “I am here.” Jesus sees her, and Mr. Gibson moves a line from the Book of Revelation to this encounter. Panting, Christ responds, “See, Mother, I make all things new.”

between 1941 and 1944, a young Czech composer named Rafael Schacter led fellow prisoners at the Nazi concentration camp at Terezen in 16 performances of Verdi’s Requiem. Schacter taught the singers the Requiem by rote from a single score. The day after the first performance, nearly half of the 150 choir members were sent to Auschwitz. Schacter recruited and taught other singers for 15 additional performances, until he himself died on a forced march to Auschwitz in 1944. American Maestro Murry Sidlin learned of this story in 1994, and it has shaped the direction of his life. He became the creator of Defiant Requiem Foundation, whose musical performances and education have raised over $10 million in funding for Survivors and Holocaust education. The centerpiece of the Foundation’s work is a performance of Verdi’s Requiem, interspersed with video testimonials and narration of some of the original singers at Terezen...

Near the end of the 5th Harry Potter Book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix comes a scene that has been burned into my memory ever since I first read it. A fierce battle is ensuing in the Ministry of Magic between members of the Order of the Phoenix–good wizards–and a group of Death Eaters–followers of the evil wizard Voldemort. They are fighting over a particular prophecy, contained in a glass orb, that both sides need desperately. The battle takes place in a room described as sort of an amphitheater, with tiers of rows sloping down to a round stage at the bottom. Although the room is largely dark, on the top tier are several doors that open into a lighted space. The battle is fierce with death curses flying, hexes blocked, and glass prophecies breaking all around. Chaos reigns. While adult members of the Order join in the fight, the side of good is mostly represented by Harry and his school-aged chums, none of whom is yet a full-fledged wizard with thoroughly developed magical abilities. The battle rages. People are injured. Several Order members barely escape death. For a brief time Harry’s friend and foil, the hapless Neville Longbottom, is even tortured. Things are not looking good for the Order; they are outnumbered and out-powered. But then . . . . then a glorious thing happens. Dumbledore arrives. Dumbledore: the world’s most powerful wizard and headmaster of Hogwarts School. Harry’s wise and loving mentor. The most effective force of good in the wizarding world. And the only one Voldemort ever feared. Dumbledore stands silhouetted in one of the upper doors, wand at the ready. And as Harry looks up at their deliverer, he breathes a sigh of relief: “they were saved.”[1] Now, the battle wasn’t over, and, indeed, Voldemort himself would show up to take on Dumbledore in a later chapter. But Dumbledore’s arrival is the major turning point in the battle and the story. Even though there is more difficulty ahead, the outcome is now certain. Once Dumbledore arrives, everyone, even the forces of evil, knows how the fight will end...

let me suggest a modern work of literature which I believe is a contemporary version of the kind of story the Book of Revelation gives us. I’m talking about the massive Harry Potter series of books (more than 4,100 pages). I believe J. K. Rowling is presenting us with the same choice between Lord Voldemort’s imperialistic ways of death and Dumbledore’s way of self-giving love, as is Revelation between the imperial Beast and the Lamb slain. They both use fantastical imagery and symbolism in telling us the basic story of human power. Dumbledore never shrinks from the fact that one must stand against such evil ways as Voldemort’s. But he also persists in teaching Harry that the most powerful force in the world is that of love, the kind of self-giving love which his mother showed in dying for him. Shortly before Dumbledore gives his own life to save others, he has the essential conversation about the two kinds of power. He tells Harry that it will take “uncommon skill and power” to defeat Voldemort, and we read, “But I haven’t got uncommon skill and power,” said Harry, before he could stop himself. “Yes, you have,” said Dumbledore firmly. “You have a power that Voldemort has never had. You can —” “I know!” said Harry impatiently. “I can love!” It was only with difficulty that he stopped himself adding, “Big deal!”1 At this point in the saga, Harry, too, thinks Dumbledore’s vision to be craziness. How can love win out over the kind of power which Voldemort wields to bring death and the power to control others? But J.K. Rowling is truly faithful to the Christian vision by bringing us precisely to an ending in which the power of love does win out. Harry never tries to kill Voldemort. Voldemort is ultimately defeated by his own power of death rebounding back upon him — literally. I won’t give other details that might spoil things, if you haven’t read these books. I do highly recommend them as one of the greatest Christian sagas ever written, one that matches the story of the Book of Revelation in its using fantastical storytelling to proclaim the victory of the power of love...

Since it is now football season, I am allowed to quote Vince Lombardi, the great football coach. He once said: Good football coaches have in the back of their mind a picture of a perfectly executed offensive play, the perfectly run defensive formation. Although the coach has never seen a group of players execute it perfectly, still the coach has in his mind a vision of what it would look like if everyone did it correctly. This is the vision that John gives us. A vision of the day when the kingdom of God will break through in all its fullness, a vision of a future we have with God when everything will be made right...

In her book Becoming Wise, Krista Tippett — who hosts public radio’s religious-affairs show, On Being — says something very useful about hope. She draws a distinction between hoping and wishing. Much of what trades under the name of hope, in the secular culture, is little more than wishing. Yet, hope, Tippett writes, “has nothing to do with wishing. It references reality at every turn and reveres truth…. Hope, like every virtue, is a choice that becomes a practice that becomes spiritual muscle memory. It’s a renewable resource for moving through life as it is, not as we wish it to be.”

I saw an e-mail story entitled “Getting to Heaven” -- “I asked my children in my Sunday School class, ‘If I sold my house and my car, had a big garage sale and gave all my money to the church, would I get into heaven?’ “’NO!’ the children all answered. “If I cleaned the church everyday, mowed the yard, and kept everything neat and tidy, would I get into heaven?’ “Again, the answer was ‘NO!’ “’Well,’ I continued, ‘then how can I get to heaven?’ “In the back of the room, a 5 yr. old by shouted out, ‘You gotta be dead!’” That is one word, at least, about All Saints Sunday: For some things in life, we just got to be dead! We got to remember the dead -- to value the ways they not only “die for us,” as we say, but they live for us!...

There is a This American Life TV episode that opens with two scientists talking about their research into how the brain stores memories. They discovered that when rats were injected with a substance that blocked a certain chemical in the brain, those rats lost their memories. When these scientists published their findings, they started getting e-mails from people who wanted their memories erased. One of the scientists began crying as he read one of the e-mails out loud. 'This is sad to me,' he said...

(includes several quotes)

Do you remember the Calvin & Hobbes cartoons that used to run in the newspaper? In one that appeared at this time of year, Hobbes, Calvin's stuffed tiger, asks, "Did you make any resolutions for the New Year?" Calvin comes unglued and shouts, "NO! I'm fine just the way I am! Why should I change? In fact, I think it's high time the world started to change to suit ME! I don't see why I should do all the changing around here. If the New Year requires resolutions, I say it's up to everybody else, not me! I don't need to improve! Everyone ELSE does!" Calvin then takes a breath and asks, "How about you? Did you make any resolutions?" Hobbes has this flabbergasted look on his face and says, "Well, I had resolved to be less offended by human nature, but I think I blew it already."...

I want to share with you a reading and the image of a mother; the mother may be your mother, it may be yourself or, as Julian of Norwich might add, it could be Jesus as a mother. The young mother set her foot on the path of life. “Is this the long way?” she asked. The guide said: “Yes, and the way is hard, and you will be old before you reach the end of it, but the end will be better than the beginning.” But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried, “Nothing will ever be lovelier than this.” Then the night came, then the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, “Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come.” And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children, “A little patience and we are there.” So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said, “Mother, we would not have done it without you.”...

Two weeks ago Stephen Hawking came to Canada. The tickets to his lecture were sold out faster than those for a rock concert. What is the attraction? While Prof. Hawking made his reputation for making fundamental contributions to the theory of those mysterious areas of ultimate nothingness called black holes, his fame has always been intimately connected with his diseased body. Now 56, he was stricken in his early 20s with Lou Gehrig’s disease). The disease usually proves fatal within a few years; Prof. Hawking is one of those few, who, for reasons not understood, stabilize– albeit at a point of almost no physical control. In fact he has to "speak" through a computer and voice synthesizer. He communicates at a rate of about 15 words a minute; ordinary speech is about 120 words a minute. His sense of humour is captivating. When asked about the possibility of time travel, he said it was possible for individual particles "but not organized systems like people. If humans could time travel we would already be inundated with tourists from the future." He often suggests, in discussing black holes, that this is evidence that God still has a few tricks up his sleeve...

William Barclay tells the story about a young doctor in England in the 19th Century. One summer he set out on a backpacking trip across Europe. He hiked for days on end, sleeping under the stars at night. In time, his hair and beard grew long, and his clothes became tattered and worn. One day he took a bad fall and broke his leg. He lay helpless for days before anyone stumbled across him. By then, he was barely alive. They rushed him to the hospital where two older doctors examined him. He was in pitiful condition. One said to the other in Latin, "Poor bloke. He's about had it. We'd do him a favor to let him die." The young doctor was weak, but he heard every word. When he did, he looked up and replied – also in Latin – "Never call a man worthless for whom Christ has died!" We're all guilty of judging a book by its cover...

In 1971 after the most popular rock group in history disintegrated into a cacophony of internal jealousy and arguing, one member of the group released a solo that not only became an immediate hit. John Lennon wrote Imagine there's no Heaven It's easy if you try No hell below us Above us only sky Imagine all the people Living for today Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people Living life in peace The Rolling Stone magazine called it the third greatest song ever written. When the Liverpool airport was named after Lennon, a phrase from the song, "above us only sky", was painted on the ceiling of the terminal...

("Rufus Jones tells the story about the great Hellgate Bridge that was being built over the East River in New York. Just when one of the central piers of the bridge was to go down to its bedrock foundation, the engineers came upon an old derelict ship, lying imbedded in the river mud that was in the way. No tugboat could be found that was able to remove the derelict ship from its ancient bed..." and another illustration)

("She was driving along the bridge in her Mazda minivan, when she heard a loud crack. She saw the roadway collapsing in front of her, like a wave...")

(Sermon on Earth Day)

(Compiled by Timothy Zingale)

(Compiled by Timothy Zingale)