St. John s United Church Service November 6th, 2016 Scripture: Revelation 7:9-17 Reader: Jane Wynne Reflection: Rev. Karen Verveda SCRIPTURE READING: Revelation 7 9 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. 10 They cried out in a loud voice, saying, Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb! 11 And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshipped God, 12 singing, Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honour and power and might be to our God for ever and ever! Amen. 13 Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from? 14 I said to him, Sir, you are the one that knows. Then he said to me, 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. 15 For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. 16 They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 17 for the Lamb at the centre 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. REFLECTION: The time change last night was another reminder that we are in the midst of a seasonal transition 1
the end of fall s harvest and the beginnings of winter s rest. It s the time of year when we take time to remember and give thanks for the saints who enrich our lives those who have inspired us in our journey towards God s wholeness and freedom and justice and dignity and love. If last week was part one of reflecting on all saints part two begins with a children s story by Max Lucado. The Wemmicks were small wooden people. All of the wooden people were carved by a woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village. Each Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had larges eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver, and all lived in the village. And all day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing: they gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people spent their day sticking stars or dots on one another. The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars. But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmicks gave dots. The talented ones got stars, too. Some could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words 2
or could sing pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars. Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star it made them feel so good! It made them want to do something else and get another star. Others, though, could do little. They got dots. Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather around and give him dots. Sometimes when he fell, his wood got scratched, so the Wemmicks would give him more dots. Then when he would try to explain why he fell, he would say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him more dots. After a while he had so many dots that he didn t want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in water, and then the Wemmicks would give him another dot. In fact, he had so many gray dots that the Wemmicks would come up and give him another for no reason at all. He deserves lots of dots, the wooden Wemmicks would agree with one another. He is not a good wooden Wemmick. After a while Punchinello believed them. I m not a good Wemmick, he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had lots of dots. He felt better around them. One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike any he d ever met. She had no dots or stars. 3
She was just wooden. Her name was Lucia. It wasn t that the Wemmicks didn t try to give her stickers; it s just that the stickers didn t stick. Some of the Wemmicks admired Lucia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off. Others would look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But it wouldn t stay either. That s the way I want to be, thought Punchinello. I don t want anyone s marks. So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did it. It s easy, Lucia replied. Every day I go see Eli. Eli? Yes, Eli. The woodcarver. I sit in the workshop with him. Why? Why don t you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He s there. And with that the Wemmick who had no stickers turned and skipped away. But will he want to see me? Punchinello cried out. Lucia didn t hear. So Punchinello went home. He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other stars and dots. It s not right, he muttered to himself. And he decided to go see Eli. He walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big shop. His wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to see the top of the workbench. 4
A hammer was as long as his arm. Punchinello swallowed hard. I m not staying here! and he turned to leave. Then he heard his name. Punchinello? The voice was deep and strong. Punchinello stopped. Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look at you. Punchinello turned slowly and looked at the large bearded craftsman. You know my name? the little Wemmick asked. Of course I do. I made you. Eli stooped down and picked him up and set him on the bench. Hmm, the maker spoke thoughtfully as he looked at the gray dots. Looks like you ve been given some bad marks. I didn t mean to, Eli. I tried really hard. Oh, you don t have to defend yourself to me, child. I don t care what the other Wemmicks think. You don t? No, and you shouldn t either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They re Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn t matter Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special. Punchinello laughed. Me, special? Why? I can t walk fast. I can t jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you? 5
Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly, Because you re mine. That s why you matter to me. Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this much less his maker. He didn t know what to say. Every day I ve been hoping you d come, Eli explained. I came because I met someone who had no marks, said Punchinello. She told me about you. Why don t the stickers stay on her? The maker spoke softly. Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them. What? The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers. I m not sure I understand. Eli smiled. You will, but it will take time. You ve got a lot of marks. For now, just come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care. Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the ground. Remember, Eli said as the Wemmick walked out the door, You are special because I made you. And I don t make mistakes. Punchinello didn t stop, but in his heart he thought, I think he really means it. 6
And when he did, a dot fell to the ground. I am not a big fan of Max s Lucado stories but this one is a keeper, even if Eli is a large bearded craftsman. And the reason I wanted to share it today is because I think it helps open a doorway to understanding our scripture reading for this morning. Just as Lucia points Punchinello to a deeper reality than the seeming star and dot reality of Wemmick world, the author of the book of Revelation (which, by the way, means unveil), seeks to unveil a deeper reality than first century Christians are experiencing under overwhelmingly imperialistic powers of the Rome Empire with its constant threats of persecution and injustice, the daily fear of violence and attack. The book of Revelation is actually a letter written by a man named John to seven different churches in Asia from the island of Patmos. John was exiled to Patmos because the Roman Empire didn t like what he was preaching. He was a threat to their power, so they kick him out. In today s reading John paints a picture of God s reality that is so different from reality under Roman rule. Instead of a story or a sermon today s passage is a visual missive an image that proclaims good news. Can you see it? Can you feel it? John hopes his hearers will imagine the scene will see themselves in the scene and that this pictorial unfolding will communicate far more than mere words ever can and not about the end of the world 7
(as I and many others may have been taught) but about God s promise of the end of suffering the end of the powerful crushing the powerless the end of bullying, the end of a life of fear. the end of hunger and the end of thirst. the end of tears. And in the seeing John hopes hearers will feel the good news, know the good news, breathe in the good news and in this find themselves somehow restored by the gospel s healing power even in the midst of life under Imperial Rome. Like Punchinello visiting Eli, allowing and absorbing the truth of John s vision of an alternate reality, means that the stars and the dots of the Roman Empire or whatever tyranny we may be living under begin to lose their sticking power. What part of John s vision catches your attention? The image that most captures my imagination is the image of a great multitude robed in white, so many no one can count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages standing before the throne. They are carrying palm branches in their hands and they are crying out Salvation belongs to our God. The description of this scene may remind you of another, a moment in time when those who were waving palm branches shouted Hosanna and welcomed Jesus as he entered Jerusalem s east gate riding on a donkey. They were participants in political street theatre meant to subvert the excessive show of military pomp and circumstance 8
that was happening at Jerusalem s west gate Pilate entering Jerusalem on horseback, Rome s Imperial Power on full display in an attempt to maintain order during Passover celebrations. Just like Punchinello entering Eli s workshop there s no sign of Roman Imperial Power in John s vision. Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from? 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. It s a jarring juxtaposition that garments washed in blood made white. Everyone knows blood stains. Just like everyone knows that blood spilled means the end of life. But not so in John s vision. This is a vision of life. Abundant life. The lamb that was crucified is at the center of the throne and guides to the springs of the water of life. Jesus refusal to acquiesce to imperial power may have led to his crucifixion it may look as if he lost as if Rome won but as we take in John s vision it is clear death is not the last word-- Jesus shroud becomes an Easter garment, a baptismal gown of new life and this multitudes so many no one can count are those who have followed in the way of Jesus who have refused to serve the empire who now wear the same Easter robes of new life. It s interesting you may have noticed John is a numbers guy. He counts everything. Revelation is written to seven churches. 9
There are seven golden lampstands and seven stars. There are twenty-four elders in the throne room, beside four living creatures. The beast has seven heads. John even talks about 12,000 people from each of the 12 tribes of Israel. Numbers, numbers, numbers. They are all over the letter of Revelation. But then suddenly, John, the one who loves to count. The one who counts everything, enters the throne room of God, and the number of people who are there is so great that no one could ever count it. And it isn t just people. It is people of every nation, from all tribes and languages. This is a cross-cultural experience. People of all tribes and all nations. Which means that people who don t speak the same language, who don t look the same are standing side-by-side. We know that Empires can get so concerned with how to keep people out, God s kingdom is about letting people in. especially, the ones who have come out of the great ordeal, meaning, the ones who have come out of great suffering. The broken and the outcast. The marginalized. If Revelation is about the end of something, it is about the end of the walls between us. That is God s end game. It s a subversive tactic. Sharing a vision of an alternate reality. Empire tactics of bullying and fear only work when people believe the story of the Empire. A 3D technicolour vision such as John s offering people a glimpse of an alternate reality, one that meets their deepest hunger & thirst 10
that dries their tears, is the beginning of the end for any tyranny. When people catch a glimpse that something different, something more, is possible they can make choices; they can turn from the Wemmicks, they can turn from the Empire, and turn to a deeper Source of real Life, real Love, real Identity. They are led to the springs of the water of life. Let us give thanks for the saints who help us catch a glimpse of something different who lead us to the water of Life And may we too help others catch a glimpse of abundant life. O Lord, we want to be in that number when the saints go marching in! 11