On Earth as it is in Heaven

Revelation 7: 9-17, NT page 249-250 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. They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” 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 worshiped God, singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” 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. 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. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 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.” Sermon In high school I took shop as often as I could, and by the time I was in level four shop, the class started to deal more with architecture and design than making bird houses or tool boxes. I have nothing to say against making bird houses or tool boxes, but by our fourth year our teacher thought we had mastered such concepts, so one day he challenged us to build and design a five foot tall cardboard structure strong enough to support 1,000 pounds of cinderblocks on its roof. This was a really exciting project to be a part of. It inspired our class to work hard, and our teacher who before watched us drag into class seconds before the bell rang was now hearing us request that he open up the class room an hour before school even started so that we could come in early and work on our project. The project concluded with most of our structures crushed under the load, but two of our structures were strong enough to support the weight of 1,000 pounds, and after congratulating these two classmates we were all excited to hear what we’d work on next. Our teacher Mr. Heninen, announced that we’d been invited to participate in a bridge building competition. The bridges would be made of balsa wood, couldn’t be more than 16 inches long and 8 inches high, and we’d bring our best designs to the Atlanta science museum for the competition. We had been invited. It’s wonderful to be invited. But some invitations are more exciting than others. Maybe you judge the value of an invitation based on who else is invited. Not knowing who else was invited we all assumed that this was going to be a pretty elite competition, but after weeks of preparation we walked into a room full of 1st and 2nd graders at the Atlanta science museum, as we were apparently the only high school class who had accepted the invitation. And what’s worse, we still didn’t win. Sometimes the invitation leads you to imagine one thing, while the reality is something else entirely. That was the case with this elder in our second Scripture lesson. “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” he says to John, the author of Revelation, as though he walked into heaven expecting it to be an exclusive black tie event – but then this great multitude that no one could count shows up and has him wondering whether they’d just let anyone in here. “Who are these,” who are these people? I didn’t expect to see them here, he says, as though he expected that the rules that define our society, drawing the line between who is in and who is out, who would be invited and who wouldn’t be, would have bearing on the Kingdom of Heaven. I think the polite way of saying it is, “Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.” And the way a friend will say it if he’s giving you a hard time, “They’ll let anyone in here won’t they.” Unfortunately the reality here on earth is so often neither polite nor funny. Invitations come, and when they do be thankful and enjoy it, because when the invitation doesn’t come you have to wonder why. The line between who is in and who is out is sometimes clearly defined. That’s the case with certain train tracks or certain roads. Ponce de Leon Avenue will take you out of Atlanta, and if you mispronounce it everyone will know that you don’t belong, kind of like saying Mau-ry County, but Ponce de Leon draws an even more pronounced line of demarcation, for the same street to your right has a different name to your left just to make sure that everyone knows whose side is whose. There is an inside and an outside in all human society it seems, so in Columbia, Tennessee there is an east side. VK Ryan and Sons is one of the funeral homes on the east side. It’s not the only one but it’s the only one I’ve ever gotten to know. It was for Lacey Coleman’s funeral. Mr. Coleman was not technically a member here, most of you would say that he was more like family. For 40 years he served as our church sexton. That’s why, when he died last December, VK Ryan and Sons was the funeral home, we were the church, and I was the preacher. Never having been here before the funeral home wanted to get the lay of the land, so Mr. Ryan called Tony Sowell at Oaks and Nichols Funeral Home to ask for advice. Tony went through the details with Mr. Ryan, even walked him over here so that he could get a feel for our church, and then he said, “Now they do things a little different over here on this side of town. The main difference between Joe Evans and any preacher on the east side is that you’ll think he’s just getting started, but don’t sit down because before you know it he’s finished.” You can see the lines so clearly when it comes to the funeral, even more profoundly when you get to the graveyard and one group of people is buried on one side, the other on the other side – but don’t be surprised that while the lines can be drawn sharply here on earth they are nothing in heaven. “Then one of the elders, referring to that great multitude so vast that no one could count, addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” 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.” All at once it made sense to this elder – all at once he realized that the lines drawn so plainly had faded to nothing for the only thing that mattered was being washed in the blood of the Lamb – and maybe we all know that this is how it will be. That in heaven there will be no Jew nor Greek, no slave nor free, no male nor female, maybe we know that this is how it will be when we get there, but each and every Sunday we pray, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” and that it seems is something else altogether. It’s one thing to pray for something on Sunday morning, but who are you inviting to come at sit with you at lunch on Monday? It’s wonderful to imagine a time when it doesn’t matter who you know so long as you know the Lord Jesus Christ, but are you willing to forgo the struggle towards influence and power to be seen with the disenfranchised and powerless? And I love to look forward to a time when forgiveness is truly given, when sins are washed away and forgotten; a time when we all kneel as equals before the Lamb who was slain for our redemption, but if you are willing to pray that all things would be on earth as they are in heaven, than the day to give up self-righteousness is today, the time for hiding away imperfection in shame and embarrassment is past, for we all kneel as sinners before the throne. Maybe now invitations are given to some and not others, and maybe sometimes you wonder if yours got lost in the mail or if something else is going on, but “let the humble hear and be glad,” for “I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.” “Look at him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed.” Every Sunday I put on this robe and more often than not I feel like I’m playing dress-up. If my friends from high school shop class saw me behind this pulpit they’d never believe it, but I received an invitation – and I accepted it knowing that the Lord takes what is weak and makes it strong. “The Lord redeems the life of his servants; none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned.” While you are here, they may judge you all day long. It may be that they search for reasons to gossip and whisper behind your back. Then when they see you in heaven they may be so bold as to point towards you saying, “Who is that, robed in white, and what is she doing here?” They’ll figure it out before too long, because in heaven there is no room for boasting or judging. But even today let your prayer be: “on earth as it is in heaven,” for even now you are invited to see your brothers and sisters and even yourself as redeemed and forgiven. Even now you are invited to open your eyes to the truth that “salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne,” and in the end, nothing besides this truth matters. May it be so today – on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.