Sunday's Sermon: Read or Listen Here
/A sermon preached May 1, 2016, based on Revelation 21:22-22:5.
Have you ever seen someone’s tattoo without wondering what it’s about? Tattoos, even subtle ones, rarely go unnoticed when they’re uncovered. If it’s another language, we want to know, “what does that mean?” If it’s an animal or a symbol, we want to know, “what’s the story behind that?” If it’s a name, we want to know whose.
“The throne of God and the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.” As it would turn out, God is inking the people in the new city of God. Right there across their foreheads God is emblazoning God’s own name. I think about that, and I think, “man, what a witness it would be to walk around with God’s name tattooed on our foreheads.”
But not really, right? If we all went out and got “YHWH” tattooed on our forehead this afternoon, we might lose the chance to talk to many folks about God. I know a lot of people who would see us coming and they’d be out of there by the time we got within 30 yards. It’s been said before, but the age of Christendom is gone—the days when it was expected that people go to church are over. In its place we have people holding down the fort, demanding that it should be expected, and others running as far away as they can because there is no way they are coming anywhere near the place that has hurt them so deeply.
I had a conversation just last week with a woman who is 40 years old, recently divorced, with three kids. And what she told me was that she deeply misses church and the foundations of her faith, but that she doesn’t feel like it’s a place that she can go. The reason she entered a marriage she didn’t want in the first place was because it was what the church told her she had to do. And, now that her marriage went exactly as she could have predicted, she’s not what the church wants. Or at least she believes she’s not what the church wants. And guess what? It doesn’t matter how much I tell her otherwise, someone has to show her. Someone who has felt what it’s like to be damaged goods, and who has found that in Jesus, every single part of them is beloved. Sure, parts of her may be beloved here or there. But she longs for someone to invite her into a place where every inch of her body, her soul, her mind, and her story is beloved. She needs someone who has witnessed the life changing, life healing, life restoring power of a God who loves us past our mistakes and past the mistakes of those who surround us and make us feel unworthy.
Can I get a witness?
God needs some witnesses. People who are unafraid to tell the stories of God’s redemption in their own lives. People who are willing to say, “I’ve been here, and praise God I found Jesus who loved me right where I was.” We’re so often afraid to talk about it. Have you ever met someone with a tattoo who wasn’t willing to talk about it? I haven’t. “Why the butterfly on your lower back?” “Well, I was 18 years old and I wanted a tattoo.” “Who’s Lydia?” “Oh, Lydia is my nine-year old. I got this two weeks after she was born.” “Why the stars on your neck?” “The stars remind me that even on my hardest days, there is something bigger than this and bigger than me.” The stories might not all be good, but they’re all worth telling.
Can I get a witness?
John’s revelation tells us of a place where there is no temple, because the temple is the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb. John’s revelation tells of a city that doesn’t need the sun or the moon because God’s glory is its light and its lamp is the lamb. A city that has open gates 24/7 and where there is a river of life-giving water. The tree of life is on each side of the river and its leaves are for the healing of the nations.
Can I get a witness?!
And God’s people. Oh, God’s people are doing exactly what they were made to do. They are worshipping God. They see God’s face and God’s name is on their foreheads.
Can I get a witness?
And perhaps you are thinking, “Oh, what a good and glorious day that will be. The day when Jesus takes claim of the whole creation and says, ‘This—ALL OF THIS—is mine!’” And you’re right, that that will be a good and glorious day. But if you’re thinking that this day is ahead of us, somewhere in the distant future, somewhere we can’t quite see, then you are only partially right. John’s revelation doesn’t show us only what was or what will be but what is, right here and right now. If you’re waiting for Jesus to reclaim the whole earth and say, “This is mine! This creation is mine and it is dear to me.” Well, that’s already happened. It happened on a Friday and was confirmed on a Sunday. On a Friday Jesus said, “this is mine.” And on a Sunday Jesus said, “And I’m taking it back!” It has happened, it is happening and it will happen. Jesus says, “All of this is mine.”
Can I get a witness?
John, at the climax of his grand vision, makes the radical claim that all of this, all we see and all we are belongs to God. And God’s people worship. And do you know what happens when they worship? God reveals God’s face and God’s name is written on their foreheads. And that’s what happens when we worship. God gathers us from all those places where only pieces of us are loved and brings us next to God’s people—God’s imperfect, messed up, terrible, wonderful, beautifully inkedpeople. And God says, Samantha, look at Michael’s face, at Jennifer’s face, at Ian’s face. Look! Can you see what I wrote there? Their brows may be furrowed with worry or with anger. But it’s there. I, God, put it there, my immutable name. All of this person belongs to me. And God shows us God’s own face, in one another…”
Can I get a witness?
We are not persecuted like the early Christians and sometimes I wonder if that weakens our witness. In the year 203, Vibia Perpetua became a Christian, knowing that it would mean her death. Her father tried to talk her out of it, and though she was only 22 years old with a baby boy who was still nursing, her answer to her father’s plea was simple. She pointed to a water jug and asked her father, “See that pot lying there? Can you call it by any other name than what it is?” To which he responded, “Of course not.” And Perpetua responded, “Neither can I call myself by any other name than what I am—a Christian. ”Her final words to her brother who had chosen to follow her were, “Stand fast in the faith and love one another.”
Can I get a witness?
Perpetua stood there in the colosseum, unceasing in prayer, supporting her sister in Christ, Felicity, her service to God unabated by the terrors of her time. And she stood there unafraid, because she knew that that she was a witness. There in that awful, awful place, God revealed God’s own face and etched God’s own name, indelibly, on her forehead
Can I get a witness?
Are you afraid of what it means for you to be a witness? Reasons abound as to why people don’t get tattoos. “You know that’s forever, right?” “Can you imagine what that’s going to look like when you get older?” “I can’t think of anything I’d want on my skin forever.”
What is your reason for avoiding the tattoo of God’s name on your forehead? Perhaps you think that you’ll lose some of the friends you have now; maybe it’ll make you look like one of “those Christians” who you don’t really care for. Perhaps you’re afraid that you’re not good enough, wise enough, holy enough to be a witness.
Good news, guys. It’s not up to us to write God’s name on our foreheads. God is the inkmaster and, when we worship, we are allowing God to work on God’s masterpiece. We don’t have to be afraid. We’re not called to be the defense, the jury, the prosecution or the judge. All we have to do is be the witness.
Can I get a witness?
God brings us here on Sunday morning and invites us to respond to God’s grace. And, in a world that has so many things to offer, we’re saying, “This is a priority.” And that is a witness to who God is and what God is doing. And when we meet God’s beautiful, broken people, we don’t have to give them the answers, we don’t have to give them advice, we don’t even have to be their comfort or healer. What we get to do is tell them about how beautiful and broken we are and how God is writing God’s name on our foreheads. We get to tell them that they are welcomed by a God who loves ALL of them right where they are.
Can I get a witness?
God is pouring out a river of life-giving water and giving us a drink. God is is gathering up the leaves of the tree of life and letting us share them for the healing of the nations. And God is opening the door for us to worship. He is showing us to his chair. The design he has chosen for us is in his hand. So what do you think, he asks. “It is amazing. Do it!” we say. And God leans over us with needle in hand. Before he starts, he cautions, “This may hurt a little. But just wait till you see the end result!”
Can I get a witness?