Preached May 18, 2025, at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on Revelation 21:1-8.
I don’t usually preach from Revelation. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever preached from Revelation. I’m no fire-and-brimstone preacher. But I take what the lectionary gives me. I could have preached about love from the Gospel of John. I could have preached about inclusion from the Acts of the Apostles. But you’ve heard all that from me before, right? So today, you’re getting some apocalyptic preaching.
Before I get into the reading, let’s try to get the perspective of the original readers of Revelation. John of Patmos was probably not the same John who was an apostle, nor the John who wrote the Gospel that bears that name, nor the John who wrote the epistles that bear that name… Anyway, John the Revelator was exiled to the island of Patmos sometime late in the first century CE, probably around the year 95. This is about 25 years after the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. In the 60s, there was a lot of turmoil in Jerusalem, culminating in a revolution that was absolutely squashed by the Romans. In 70 CE, the Temple was destroyed and Jews were all banished from Jerusalem. Without the Temple, all those who followed our God had to figure out what God had in mind for them.
One group, the Pharisees, determined that the Temple sacrificial system could be replaced by the many traditions that had grown up in the synagogues. Out of that group grew rabbinic Judaism, the Jewish faith that continues today.
Another group saw an altogether different vision of the future. Of course the Temple had been destroyed—God no longer needed a dwelling place on earth. Jesus Christ had come to show us God’s essential nature, and then through his death and resurrection, he established a new Way to follow God. In fact, they called themselves followers of the Way. They envisioned a God who transcended any particular place, and indeed one who transcended any tribe or nation. Out of this group grew Christianity in all its varied forms.
But remember, many Christians saw themselves as still Jews who had grown in their understanding of God. John of Patmos was thoroughly Jewish. Throughout the book of Revelation and especially in today’s passage, there are references to Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, and other books in our canon, plus many extra-biblical books like 1 Enoch. John was immersed in apocalyptic messianic Judaism and wove its themes all through his writing.
What was John’s ultimate goal in writing? Well, the core message of Revelation is this: In the end, GOD WINS. Things may look dire—God’s people may be subjected to persecution and the Temple may have been destroyed, but God is at work battling evil and transforming the world. There is always reason for hope.
In today’s passage, we read that a new heaven and a new earth is descending because the old things had passed away. God is transforming the world into God’s eternal kingdom, which as I have so often said is an existence of universal human flourishing. Most days, it’s hard to see a path from where we are to such an existence. There are so many terrible things happening in the world—how could we ever reach universal flourishing? Well, those old things need to pass away. There are lots of good things in the world, too—but the good is bound up with the bad, often inextricably so. We need to be willing to let go of everything, good and bad, for the sake of God’s kingdom. Only then can we achieve the transformative restoration of all things that is needed to achieve God’s original vision for humanity.
As the new heaven and new earth are descending, so too is a new Jerusalem, a new holy city. In these last chapters of the Bible, we hear echoes of the first chapters of the Bible. Jesus Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. Christ was there at the beginning, when God spoke all things into being and declared them very good. Christ will be there at the end, too, when all things will be restored to that state of perfection, of wholeness and holiness.
In the beginning, God placed humanity in a garden. Back then, all we needed was the bare minimum to survive. At first, there was only one human, but God recognized that Adam was incomplete in himself. Being made in the image of God, we are made for relationship. Adam needed a mate, a helper, a companion. Only a loving relationship can really make us complete.
But no single person can satisfy all of our needs. Many marriages have failed because one person relied too completely on the other and became emotionally unsatisfied. This is no criticism of the other partner—nobody is perfect and therefore nobody can satisfy all of another person’s needs. Similarly, no relationship is pure and untarnished. When you are close to someone, you two can hurt each other because humans are finite, imperfect beings.
And so a garden is not sufficient for a person to thrive, and a single partner is not sufficient for the pair to thrive. We need a community. We need to be embedded in a complex web of relationships that are individually good, and together provide everything we need to flourish. Metaphorically, we need a city, a Holy City, a place where God dwells and unites us all and ensures the health of every relationship.
We need a Holy City where everyone we love is there with us. Death will be no more, and neither will there be mourning or crying. This is only possible if absolutely everyone is there with us. If I get to heaven and my Grandma or my Uncle Dick aren’t there, it won’t feel very heavenly.
The problem is, if everyone I love is there, everyone I hate will be there too. There are people who have hurt me over the years, old pains that sometimes flare up, things that cannot be resolved in the present age. There are surely people that I have hurt. Someday, all of the physical, emotional, and spiritual pain we have inflicted on one another will be healed so that we can be reconciled to one another. Only through that reconciliation will we be able to truly enjoy God’s presence. Only through that reconciliation will the world be truly transformed into God’s kingdom.
But there are at least two main parts to reconciliation. First, the transgressor needs to be reformed. Here’s where the fire and brimstone come in. In Revelation 21:8, we read, “But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the polluted, the murderers, the sexually immoral, the sorcerers, the idolaters, and all liars, their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.” That sounds pretty bad, right? I mean, I’m not a murderer, but who among us has never lied? Who among us has never acted cowardly? This seems to doom everyone, or almost everyone, to eternal conscious torment in a lake of fire. Or the slightly more positive interpretation is annihilation: those who don’t make the cut to enter the Holy City are annihilated and cease to exist.
But again, if I get to heaven and the people I love aren’t there, what kind of heaven would that be? The third way to interpret this passage harkens back to Malachi 3:2-3: “But who can endure the day of [the Lord’s] coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver.” The fire and brimstone are not to destroy or torment us, but to purify us. This vivid metaphor helps us to understand the pain that comes from confronting the many ways we have fallen short of God’s glory and failed to show our love of God or our love of our neighbor. This reckoning will be painful, but is necessary to purify us and to remove from us all of our hatred and all of the ways we hurt one another. Then we can truly repent and, having repented, we can truly reconcile with those whom we have hurt, or those who have hurt us.
And then, all will be well. Fernando Sabino, a Brazilian writer, once wrote, “In the end, everything will be all right. If it’s not all right, it’s not the end.” Until we have all been purified and reconciled with one another, it is still not the end. God will keep working on us, individually and collectively, until everyone is flourishing. God will keep transforming the world until it truly reflects God’s vision for humanity.
We might wish that we wouldn’t need to go through all of this. The pain and loss of the present age lead to mourning and tears, but Christ promises that in the end, mourning and crying shall be no more. Julian of Norwich, a famous 14th-century visionary, wrote this about her 13th Showing:
In my folly, before this time I often wondered why, by the great foreseeing wisdom of God, the onset of sin was not prevented: for then, I thought, all should have been well. This impulse [of thought] was much to be avoided, but nevertheless I mourned and sorrowed because of it, without reason and discretion.
But Jesus, who in this vision informed me of all that is needed by me, answered with these words and said: ‘It was necessary that there should be sin; but all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.’
These words were said most tenderly, showing no manner of blame to me nor to any who shall be saved.
Jesus doesn’t blame us for our sinfulness and imperfections. He was one of us and so he knows how hard this life is. We accumulate pain and sorrow throughout the length of our days, but we know that in the end, all shall be well.
OK, great—someday, we’ll all be in heaven and all shall be well. You should know me well enough, though, to know that I’m not here to promise you pie in the sky when you die in the sweet by and by.
The core message of the Gospel is that the kingdom of God is at hand! Yes, in the end, all shall be well, but we can have glimpses of what that will be like as the world is slowly transformed. Because the new heaven and the new earth and the new Jerusalem are coming to us. They come to us each day as we strive to create a world that is more aligned with God’s original intention for universal human flourishing. We are living in the Holy City right now. It’s here. It’s within us and among us.
Sure, we still hurt one another, and we are still finite and imperfect beings. But we have been made in God’s image, and that means we have the capacity within ourselves to express God’s love. We have the ability to forgive, and to repent, and to reconcile with one another. It doesn’t happen very often, but once in a while, I get a sense that I am living in God’s kingdom, if only for a moment or perhaps an afternoon. Once in a while, I have a feeling that God loves me, and that God has connected me with the people around me. I get a feeling that everyone has what they need to flourish, to live out their true identity as a beloved child of God. That feeling passes quickly, but it’s real, and it assures me that indeed, all shall be well.
The task God sets before each one of us is to find ways to transform the world into God’s kingdom. God works with us and through us as we strive to purge ourselves of evil and hatred. God works with us and through us as we strive to share God’s love with our community, to love as we are loved. God works with us and through us as we seek to feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, and bind up the broken-hearted.
Someday, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well. Today, let us strive to make Rolla just a little bit more like God’s vision for humanity. Let us seek ways to help everyone flourish and thrive. In that way, we will live in God’s kingdom today and walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which we have been called. Amen.
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