No Escape [All Saints' Day B]
The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
Revelation 21:1-6a
No Escape
There is no escape. And, you know, that is not such a bad
thing.
So many people place their
Christian hope in the big get-away – the idea that someday we will
escape the confines of this earth. It is
not difficult to see why this is. Life
can be tough. Every man, woman, and
child on this planet know too well the salty taste of tears. We all have felt the sting of pain. We mourn because we lose those whom we
love. And we live knowing that somewhere
in the future death lies in wait.
Which of course is not to say that
life on earth is all bad. Of course, it
is not. As we journey through our days
many of those days will be wonderful. We
will experience joys unimaginable, pleasures inconceivable. We will witness beauty that confounds the
mind. We will hold the miracle of new
life in our hands – a newborn
baby, a little puppy, or a tiny quivering kitten.
And while, honestly, most of life
is lived on a plain, there are majestic peaks and devastating valleys. And it is in those most devastating of
valleys that Christians over the centuries have comforted themselves with the
idea that someday they will depart this earth and all its pain – that after
the struggle will finally come the escape.
And in some sense there is truth in
that idea; our experience is that death is an exit out of this reality. Eventually every mortal life ends, and our
prayer is that through the mercy of God, the souls of the dead rest in
peace.
But, at least biblically speaking,
it doesn't end there; it seems God's plan does not end in escape; it does not
culminate in some distant heaven.
Today's passage from the book of Revelation is very clear: there is no
escape from this place. It turns out
that while we were planning to end up finally in heaven, God has been planning
to move in with us – and to
bring heaven to earth.
It seems this was the plan all
along. God always trying to get close to
us. Waiting for the day when we can just
be together. But we've been
distant. And the distance has meant a
world in which death and mourning and pain are all too common.
The first hint of distance came
right at the start, when Adam and Eve hid in the garden from their
Creator. But of course that was not the
last. And the distance grew. And then two thousand years ago, God made the
ultimate move: to get close, impossibly close – under our skin. God came to live with humankind in the person
of Jesus. But we weren't very
welcoming.
And yet God doesn't give up on
us. Turns out we can't escape God
either. So, while we keep playing hard
to get, God keeps wooing us. And even
though we were not welcoming last time, God is coming back – to earth,
to us. NT Wright says, “What God
did in Jesus, coming to an unknown world and an unwelcoming people, [God] is
doing on a cosmic scale. [God] is coming
to live, for ever, in our midst, a healing, comforting, celebrating presence. And the idea of 'incarnation', so long a key
topic in our thinking about Jesus, is revealed as the key topic in our thinking
about God's future for the world.... [H]eaven and earth will one day be joined
fully and for ever.”[1]
So I guess we should get
ready. Now, I'm not saying a home inhabited
by two young boys is messy, especially when my wife is sitting right here in
the congregation, but when we are expecting a guest, my wife and I prepare the
house. We clean and tidy. We do whatever seems necessary to make sure
our guest feels welcome, appreciated, and loved. It takes work – even for a short visit.
When I was a teen, my grandparents
invited my great aunt to move into their home – much more than a short visit. She was my grandpa's older sister and could
no longer live alone. But their house
was very small and there was no place for her bed – let alone
the rest of her possessions. And so they
got to work, pooled their money, and built an addition on their house. It was a big job but they did it, to make
their special guest feel welcome, appreciated, and loved.
All Saints' Day is a special
day. On this day we take pause and look
back, to consider those we have loved and lost.
By our prayers and our memories we honor our loved ones; and as we place
our flowers by the altar, we honor also the pain we still feel, the pain that
grows weaker with time but never fades completely.
As we remember our dead, we look
also to the future. We look to the day
when God will finally wipe every tear from every eye. We look to the day when death will be no
more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more. We look for the day when heaven comes to
earth and earth becomes a place like heaven.
We look to the day when there is no more distance.
While the temptation is always to
find a place to escape the pain of life, God's larger plan is not escape. In the fullness of time our Christian hope is
found right here on the earth God created good in the beginning. In the fullness of time our salvation is
found with this humanity, the generations of Adam and Eve. God loves all of this too much to start
over. God's promise is not to make
different, new things. Our God is making
all things new – raising up
those things that were cast down, restoring those things that have been long
tarnished by human sinfulness.
This hope has been hiding in plain
sight. God tells this same story every
time we bring someone to the baptismal font.
In that water, we see God's final plan play out in individual
lives. We find that there is new life
after death, after we are buried with Christ we are raised with Christ. And we find that we are baptized into a
family of sinners who are, by the grace of God, also saints, citizens of the
eternal household of God. And we find
that God forms a bond with us that lasts for ever. God will never let us get away. There is no escape.
One day there will be no more death
or crying or mourning or pain. And that
is a beautiful picture of the future God has in store for us. But that is all just icing on the cake. One day heaven will come to earth and the God
we have tried to keep at a distance will make a home with mortals. It will be, at long last, God's dream come
true.
And despite humankind's uneven
history with God, despite our tendency to shy away from God's affection, pull
away from God's embrace, if we are honest with ourselves, it is our dream
too. That is why we celebrate All
Saints' Day. Because we believe that God
will make our dream come true. Our hope
is not an escape – from earth
or from people or from God; our hope is found in that place where all of those
meet in one final, perfect, saving embrace.
In a sense we are now living with
the future God wants for us; our good God gave us everything we need in the
beginning: a good creation, a good human family created in God's own
image. But things got a little ragged
along the way; and so God is making the ragged new. And here is where we, God's people, come in. God is moving in; we need to get ready, to make
a way, to prepare a place. So take care
of this earth; this is where God will dwell with mortals. And take care of each other. These are some of the people with whom you
will spend eternity. Take care because
God is coming. There is no escape. And,
you know, that is a good thing.
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