Sermon from January 28, 2007
The death of Jesus Christ stands at the center of Christian worship and theology. The book of Revelation presents His death as the result of His faithful witness. His witness unto death marked the turning point in the conflict that rages between Christ and His Bride on one hand and the beast and Babylon the harlot on the other.

The outcome of this conflict will be "the transfer of the sovereignty of the whole world from the dragon and the beast, who presently dominate it, to God, whose universal kingdom is to come on earth," (Richard Bauckham, Theology of Revelation, 242).

John saw all this in a vision that reveals the nature and intensity of the conflict. It reveals why the Church is called on to play a decisive role in the conflict. In his vision I saw our congregation standing in awe on the other side of what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal. We strove to know the meaning of what we saw and what we should do.

Despite our readiness to act, there was nothing to do at first. We needed time to take in what we saw, to get our bearings. Action depended on grasping the meaning of what we saw, which was unlike anything we had ever seen before. Nothing else mattered until we could see that the one who sits on the throne intends to take back from human rebellion what is His by virtue of creation. The permanence of His throne, the holiness of His being, and His power to create – all promised decisive action on earth. And then we saw what signaled His readiness to act.

In His right hand He held a scroll, covered on both sides with writing and sealed with seven seals. Enclosed within that mysterious scoll was the secret strategy by which the one who sits on the throne will take back from human rebellion what is His by virtue of creation. John saw it all in his vision, and he wrote what he saw. Please join me in the last book of the Bible, in the fifth chapter of John's vision.

The Mysterious Scroll
Then I saw in the right hand of him who sat on the throne a scroll with writing on both sides and sealed with seven seals. And I saw a mighty angel proclaiming in a loud voice, "Who is worthy to break the seals and open the scroll?"

I could not be sure if the scroll was one piece of parchment, rolled up, and sealed with seven seals, placed side by side on the outside of the scroll; or if there was a series of scrolls, each rolled up, sealed, and placed inside the next one. What we yearned to know was what it said.

One of the guides, whom I came to know as the Son of St. Andrew, anticipated the meaning of the scoll. He said: "The scroll is to reveal the way in which, according to the hitherto secret purpose of God, the Lamb's victory is to become effective in establishing God's rule over the world," (Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 80).

When he said that, I felt the weight of its meaning pressing on me until I thought I couldn't stand it any longer. I saw the whole world, all its diverse peoples, their wars and cruelties, their deferred hopes, their sheer numbers – all that makes the human family glorious and tragic. I saw it all and wondered that God could rule it.

I wondered that there under those seven seals the mysterious scroll should contain the secret strategy for God's sovereignty over all things. So many rulers, so many ersatz Messiahs had promised some earthly paradise, and each one had brought human suffering and untimely death on a scale greater than the suffering and death they had promised to relieve. Could John's vision be different?

It surprised us that the one who sits on the throne did not open the scroll Himself. He made no move to act. He who is worthy to receive glory and honor and power appeared to delegate to others the responsibility of setting in motion the secret strategy contained in the scroll.

But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth could open the scroll or even look inside it. No one was worthy, and no one felt worthy for that momentous task. The suspense heightened, when John wept and wept because no one was found who was worthy to open the scroll or look inside. His tears didn't last long. They gave way to another kind of suspense occasioned by the mystery of God, whose ways are not our ways. Here is what John saw.

Lion and Lamb
Then one of the elders said to me, "Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of Judah, has triumphed. He is able to open the scoll and its seven seals."

Lion of the tribe of Judah and Root of David! Gooseflesh and chill came over me at the sound of those names. A surge of martial ardor made me ready to renounce everything and follow this majestic figure into the decisive campaign for divine hegemony over all the earth.

From of old Israel had prophesied of his son, Judah, and His posterity:

"You are a lion's cub, O Judah;
     you return from the prey, my son.
Like a lion he crouches and lies down,
     like a lioness – who dares to rouse him?
The scepter will not depart from Judah,
     nor the ruler's staff between his feet
until he comes to whom it belongs
     and the obedience of the nations is his" – Genesis 49:9-10.

Centuries later, Isaiah, not knowing what he said, had prophesied the coming of a royal figure from King David's lineage: From his roots a Branch will bear fruit. He said of this royal figure:

He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth;
     with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked – Isaiah 11:1,4

The martyrs of Masada in their holy books from the caves of Qumran found inspiration from Isaiah. They wrote of the coming Messiah: "May you smite the peoples with the might of your hand and ravage the earth with your scepter; may you bring death to the ungodly with the breath of your lips," (Bauckham, The Climax of Prophecy, 214).

All this flashed through my being in no more time than it takes a woman to brush away hair from her face. Nothing prepared me for what I saw, when I turned to look at the Lion of the tribe of Judah.

Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing in the center of the throne, encircled by the four living creatures and the elders. He had seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. I had expected a lion; I saw a Lamb. I had expected a conqueror; I saw the conquered. By what authority did this Victim receive the name Lion? By what confusion did high heaven call this pathos royalty? Martial ardor died. Gooseflesh and chill gave way before a sinking, sickening disappointment. All of us, who had spoken little, ceased to speak at all. The sight of the Lamb bearing the marks of slaughter excised expectations and made us mute.

Nevertheless, there He was, standing in the center of the throne, encircled by the four living creatures and the elders. There He was with seven horns and seven eyes, representing the plenitude of Divine power on earth. He came and took the scroll from the right hand of him who sat on the throne.

Was this heaven's burlesque, an ironic confession of heaven's impotence in the face of earth's evil? We with thousands of other congregations on the far side of what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal, stood bewildered and silent. We could hear the parchment rattle, when the Lamb took the scroll from the right hand of him who sat on the throne.

How could that pathetic creature have about Him the signs of power? How could He set in motion the secret strategy for "establishing God's rule over the world?" Another guide, who spoke less often than the Son of St. Andrew, shone light into our darkness and dismay. He said to us:

"Omnipotence is not to be understood as the power of unlimited coercion, but as the power of infinite persuasion, the invincible power of self-negating, self-sacrificing love," (Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine, 75).

I began to learn that Revelation uses the language of war, because from age to age war rages between Christ and His Bride on one hand and the beast and Babylon the harlot on the other. But the weapons of Christ are suffering, patient endurance, and faithful witness even to the point of death.

Unlikely as it seemed, these were the weapons of the Lamb with which He conquered. I remember how the Apostle had spoken of Christ Jesus, who while testifying before Pontius Pilate made the good confession, (I Timothy 6:13), and for that confession He paid with His life. He seemed weak and foolish on the cross. Yet the Apostle says somewhere: The foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength – 1 Corinthians 1:25.

...And to the Lamb
With our eyes more open to the ways of our God we turned our attention to the act of worship that unfolded before us. And when he had taken (the scroll), the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb. Each one had a harp and they were holding golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints.

We all wanted to know more about the prayers of the saints, but the singing of the many-eyed living creatures and the 24 elders postponed our questions. And they sang a new song: "You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth." Their hymn turned my mind again to the whole world, all its diverse peoples, their wars and cruelties, their deferred hopes, their sheer numbers – all that makes the human family glorious and tragic. I saw it all and wondered that the Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, had wrought that global ransom and established that global kingdom and priesthood.

On the far side of what lookied like a sea of glass, clear as crystal it was easier for our congregation and for many others to understand the magnitude of the suffering Lamb's achievement. We see a global Church. But John didn't even know the magnitude of earth. Within the Empire he knew the Church was small, with no political status, occasionally persecuted. These thoughts soon faded, overtaken by the joy of heaven.

Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and the living creatures and the elders. In a loud voice they sang: "Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"

I don't know how we bore the sound. Our ears must have grown accustomed to the acoustics of heaven. Gooseflesh and chills returned, but not with martial ardor. Joy presed outward from within our bodies, like a geyser long pent-up, eager for release. The myriad creatures released it with their unfeigned praise of the Lamb, looking as if it had been slain.

  Even as angelic being, living creature, and elder thundered praise that seemed never to end, and joy washed over heaven like sunlight on a summer morning, something discordant stirred within me. Even discord was colored with joy, something felt unfitting.

I remembered how the four living creatures and the 24 elders had laid their crowns before the throne and said to the Creator of all things: "You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power." But the host that praised the Lamb had sung: "Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"

The disproportionate praise stirred the discord within me. The finale in that chorus of praise removed any disproportion but deepened the discord. Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, singing: "To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!" The four living creatures said, "Amen," and the elders fell down and worshiped.

The Pastoral Center of Gravity
Long ago, amid thunder and lightning, with thick cloud and a very loud trumpet blast, the First Word had come down from Mount Sinai: "You shall have no other gods before me." The prophet Isaiah, looking back over Israel's checkered response to the First Word, had reasserted its primacy: "I am the LORD; that is my name! I will not give my glory to another or my praise to idols" – Isaiah 42:8.

Yet, there around the throne of heaven, before the face of the one who sits on the throne, the many-voiced multitude declared praise and honor and glory and power to both him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb; and the elders fell down and worshiped both him who sits on the throne and the Lamb. The realities of heaven had overtaken and surpassed the categories of earth. A week away, if the one who sits on the throne and the Lamb permit, we must meditate further on this mystery.