Revelation 7 contains some of the most comforting words ever recorded in scripture: “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.” In this passage, John describes Jesus is familiar language, as the Lamb of God who will be our Shepherd!
This passage from Revelation is John’s glimpse into heaven while he is still on earth. And it makes me wonder: do you have any thin places in your own life? Places where the veil between heaven and earth seems paper thin, places where you have the sure sense that you are standing on holy ground, communing with the saints who have gone before you?
John’s vision of heaven in Revelation is one such thin place, where the distance between heaven and earth was not so very great, where the comfort and the joy that we know we will experience in heaven is felt here on earth. But there are also some things about John’s vision that I think are a bit strange, a bit unexpected. This is not the picture of heaven that most of get as little children, fluffy clouds and cherubs playing harps.
One thing that might surprise us about this vision of heaven is what people are doing. There are no people lounging about on clouds as if on perpetual vacation, as we might imagine. In fact, it seems as though heaven is a very active place. And what is it people are busy doing? They are worshiping and serving God and others.
When John looks through the veil what he sees are people of every tongue and tribe and nation gathered around the throne of the Lamb, singing, "Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and might be to our God forever and ever!" Heaven is a worshiping kind of place! And if you like singing hymns here on earth, just wait until you get to heaven. It's going to be one perpetual Hallelujah chorus! I think church is also one of those thin places that gives us a glimpse into what heaven might be like.
I lived in England for two years while I was in graduate school. And the town that I lived in was Coventry, about an hour and a half from London. One of the most amazing things about Coventry is the cathedral in that town, one wall of which is made entirely of glass. Etched into the glass are the huge figures, four feet wide and ten feet tall, of saints and angels. But they’re not just sitting there. They're having a party – blowing trumpets and swinging from the chandeliers and dancing across that massive wall of glass.
This wall was built in 1940, and you might look at that wall and wonder how they could construct such a scene in the midst of all the bad things going on in the world, disease and starving children and violence and hatred and neglect and poverty and, oh yes, and war? You might look at that glass wall and wonder what sort of God would have the nerve to throw a party like that in times like these, and what sort of church would have the nerve to go to it!
You might, until you knew that the cathedral in Coventry is one of those thin places. In November of 1940, Coventry suffered the longest air raid endured in any one night by any city in England during World War II. It was an air raid which killed and destroyed and reduced the whole city to ruins, including its cathedral.
The decision to rebuild the cathedral came the morning after its destruction. It was not a sign of defiance, but rather of faith, trust and hope for the future of the world. Shortly after the destruction, the cathedral stonemason, Jock Forbes, noticed that two of the charred medieval roof timbers had fallen in the shape of a cross. He set them up in the ruins where they sit to this day on an altar of rubble with the words, ‘Father Forgive’ inscribed on the Sanctuary wall.
Using a national radio broadcast from the cathedral ruins on Christmas Day 1940 the church Provost declared that when the war was over he would work with those who had been enemies 'to build a kinder, more Christ-child-like world.' The cathedral in Coventry is still dedicated to a mission of reconciliation.
The Greek word for "worship" in this text can also refer to work or labor. This worship, then, is not the kind that ends in the throne room. It is the kind that extends into those streets, as the saints of heaven also serve one another as God in Christ has served them.
The fact is, sometimes we find that we don’t have to travel very far at all to find those thin places between heaven and earth. There are many times in worship itself when I feel like I am standing on holy ground. I know that God is always present, but sometimes in the singing and in the praying and in the community, I feel that presence so closely and the veil between heaven and earth is very transparent.
And every time we remember to place our lives in the Good Shepherd’s hands, we can rest safe and secure in the presence of God.
This passage from Revelation is John’s glimpse into heaven while he is still on earth. And it makes me wonder: do you have any thin places in your own life? Places where the veil between heaven and earth seems paper thin, places where you have the sure sense that you are standing on holy ground, communing with the saints who have gone before you?
John’s vision of heaven in Revelation is one such thin place, where the distance between heaven and earth was not so very great, where the comfort and the joy that we know we will experience in heaven is felt here on earth. But there are also some things about John’s vision that I think are a bit strange, a bit unexpected. This is not the picture of heaven that most of get as little children, fluffy clouds and cherubs playing harps.
One thing that might surprise us about this vision of heaven is what people are doing. There are no people lounging about on clouds as if on perpetual vacation, as we might imagine. In fact, it seems as though heaven is a very active place. And what is it people are busy doing? They are worshiping and serving God and others.
When John looks through the veil what he sees are people of every tongue and tribe and nation gathered around the throne of the Lamb, singing, "Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and might be to our God forever and ever!" Heaven is a worshiping kind of place! And if you like singing hymns here on earth, just wait until you get to heaven. It's going to be one perpetual Hallelujah chorus! I think church is also one of those thin places that gives us a glimpse into what heaven might be like.
I lived in England for two years while I was in graduate school. And the town that I lived in was Coventry, about an hour and a half from London. One of the most amazing things about Coventry is the cathedral in that town, one wall of which is made entirely of glass. Etched into the glass are the huge figures, four feet wide and ten feet tall, of saints and angels. But they’re not just sitting there. They're having a party – blowing trumpets and swinging from the chandeliers and dancing across that massive wall of glass.
This wall was built in 1940, and you might look at that wall and wonder how they could construct such a scene in the midst of all the bad things going on in the world, disease and starving children and violence and hatred and neglect and poverty and, oh yes, and war? You might look at that glass wall and wonder what sort of God would have the nerve to throw a party like that in times like these, and what sort of church would have the nerve to go to it!
You might, until you knew that the cathedral in Coventry is one of those thin places. In November of 1940, Coventry suffered the longest air raid endured in any one night by any city in England during World War II. It was an air raid which killed and destroyed and reduced the whole city to ruins, including its cathedral.
The decision to rebuild the cathedral came the morning after its destruction. It was not a sign of defiance, but rather of faith, trust and hope for the future of the world. Shortly after the destruction, the cathedral stonemason, Jock Forbes, noticed that two of the charred medieval roof timbers had fallen in the shape of a cross. He set them up in the ruins where they sit to this day on an altar of rubble with the words, ‘Father Forgive’ inscribed on the Sanctuary wall.
Using a national radio broadcast from the cathedral ruins on Christmas Day 1940 the church Provost declared that when the war was over he would work with those who had been enemies 'to build a kinder, more Christ-child-like world.' The cathedral in Coventry is still dedicated to a mission of reconciliation.
The Greek word for "worship" in this text can also refer to work or labor. This worship, then, is not the kind that ends in the throne room. It is the kind that extends into those streets, as the saints of heaven also serve one another as God in Christ has served them.
The fact is, sometimes we find that we don’t have to travel very far at all to find those thin places between heaven and earth. There are many times in worship itself when I feel like I am standing on holy ground. I know that God is always present, but sometimes in the singing and in the praying and in the community, I feel that presence so closely and the veil between heaven and earth is very transparent.
And every time we remember to place our lives in the Good Shepherd’s hands, we can rest safe and secure in the presence of God.