A Tale of Three Cities

Hans Baldung Grien; 1511; Tempera and oil on wood; Overall 89.5 x 76.8 cm, painted surface 87.3 x 75.6 cm; Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Hans Baldung Grien; 1511; Tempera and oil on wood; Overall 89.5 x 76.8 cm, painted surface 87.3 x 75.6 cm; Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

May 9: Sixth Sunday of Easter
Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

Picture an old saint named John. He lives on the rocky island of Patmos, a prisoner for his faith. Under the rule of Rome. He dreams of Jerusalem.

Those two cities are all the world to him. Rome, rotten to its core with the corruption of absolute power. Jerusalem, the city of God, with its temple in ruins and its faithful people scattered across the earth. Jerusalem is the world he once knew. Rome is the world he knows too well. In a vision he sees Rome’s defeat. He sees a new Jerusalem, coming down from heaven.

He writes to his brothers and sisters, struggling to keep the faith in a hostile world. The greatest city on earth is as good as finished. God’s victory celebration has begun. Faithful people who have died are already at the party. John’s fantastic visions offer his friends great hope, and challenge them to hold on to that hope with a life-grip.

New Jerusalem, where the powerful and the poor come together to worship the Lamb of God. Where the light of truth is a beacon of welcome to all. The gates are never closed to anyone. Sin is rejected, but sinners embraced.

A new city — a new world — where no one ever doubts God is near. And, oh yes, it’s a city without temples! For the whole city lives in God. Its latitude is the wideness of God’s mercy. Its longitude is the height of God’s joy in God’s people and the depth of God’s compassion.

Put people who have caught that vision in a place like second-century Rome, and there can only be trouble. These people believe all are equal, and equally loved by the one, true God. They find their security in their heavenly citizenship, not their Roman citizenship. They practice mercy and compassion. They reach out to others in ways that heal and reconcile. They celebrate God’s presence everywhere.

The Christians who first find hope in John’s fantastic voyage to the New Jerusalem are a struggling minority in a powerful culture that is, at best, indifferent to them and, at worst, seeks to exterminate them. Yet those Christians are convinced the world needs them, and the good news that they share. They are willing to spend their whole lives, body and soul, to live as Christ’s disciples in the world.

Even now, God invites us to catch the vision of what can be. As John writes at the beginning of Revelation, a vision of things that shall surely be.

A church where the powerful and the poor come together to worship the Lamb of God. Where the light of truth is a beacon of welcome to all. The doors are never closed to anyone. Sin is rejected, but sinners embraced.

A church where no one ever doubts God is near. A church that worships God, not the idols of security in buildings, programs and tradition. Its latitude is the wideness of God’s mercy. Its longitude is the height of God’s joy in God’s people and the depth of God’s compassion.

Put people who have caught that vision in the world we know today, and there can only be redemption. These people believe all are equal, and equally loved by the one, true God. They find their security in their heavenly citizenship, not their nationality. They practice mercy and compassion. They reach out to others in ways that heal and reconcile. They celebrate God’s presence everywhere.

What a wonderful dream! And every bit of it is within our reach, if we really want it to be.

Long ago, God gave old John a vision, and that vision John gave to us. That vision is our invitation to join with God in the ongoing work of bringing in a new heaven and a new earth.

Let’s dream dreams, cast and catch visions, join in God’s mission, and share the celebration.