i didn't know i was lonely 'til i saw your face

i wanna get better

Second Sermon in our Revelation Sermon-series:

John’s revelation means to wake us up to all that’s going on. 

Today, as the Revelator takes us before the Throne of God, we’re shown what’s really going on when the pastor, some anxious parents and a squirming baby come up to this font.

Today, as we see God on the Throne, the Throne at the center of all things, baptism is shown for what it really is, what it actually does. 

And in case the setting of God’s Throne in the center of creation wasn’t enough of a clue; baptism is so much more than an initiation ritual or fire insurance…

In baptism we are brought into the very heart of faith. 

What it means to be claimed by the God who raised Jesus from the dead. What it means to be marked by the one who after three days in the grave, was raised to new, eternal life. 

We always talk about something being a matter of life and death; but today we see that it’s actually a matter of death and life. In that order.

Today, John the Revelator tells us what he saw when he was invited up into the heavenly throne room. It’s a majestic, awe inspiring scene. 

The throne throws off hues of red and orange light. From the throne issues a rainbow. Circling the throne are the seven torches. And around the Throne, 24 dignitaries; clothed in regale attire. They worship God, nonstop. Even taking off their crowns to cast them at the foot of the throne. 

These 24 elders are the twelve tribes of Israel and the twelve apostles together worshipping God. In other words, at the center of the church universal, is God seated on the Throne.

Prowling about the Throne are four beasts, all eyes. Constantly attending to nothing else, but God. In fact, they even join the responsive worship. When the elders finish their refrain, these animals add theirs’ too.

These beasts represent all of creation; birds of the air, wild animals, domestic animals and humanity as well. In the end, God isn’t just at the center of the Church. God is at the center of all life! 

The harmony creation longs for, comes when everything is gathered around the Throne of God. 

The Throne of God seated at the center of all things. 

And around the throne, a never-ending hymn sing: “holy, holy, holy / all the saints adore, Thee / Casting down their golden crowns / Around the glassy sea / All the cherubim and seraphim are falling down before, Thee / Which wert, and art and evermore shall be / Holy, Holy, Holy!”

Seeing this. Hearing it. It fills your heart.

It shows that it must be true. That, deep down, we know St. Augustine was right; “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O Lord.”

It’s not just that God belongs at the center of all things, which God does; it’s that we were made for God to be at the center. 

That we will be forever restless, center-less, rudderless until God sits upon Throne that holds all things together. Until we come before that Throne and bow down, join the hymn we were made to sing with the rest of the church, the rest of creation!

…Before we come to the Throne, though; John shows us something…

Something unexpected. Something ominous. Something essential, though.

A glassy sea. 

Between us and the Throne of God, lays a sea. 

A sea that’s at the heart of the faith. A sea that’s at the center of the life of faith. 

The sea Noah crossed on the Ark during those 40 days of rain when the earth was flooded. The sea that overwhelms Sin. 

The sea the Israelites passed through dry-shod, when they fled from the Egyptian army. The sea that leads to freedom. 

The sea Jesus was baptized into when he submitted to his cousin John’s baptism. The sea of Death and new life. 

Between us and the Throne of God lays a sea. The sea we all must cross before coming to the throne of God. The sea that cleanses, frees and raises the dead.

Before crossing the sea, though, everything else must be laid aside.

Because you cannot cross this sea and carry anything along with you.

If you try to bring anything along with you over the sea, you will not make it. The sea is too great to cross carrying anything else at all.

Scattered along this side of the shore are the remains of previous lives. Regrets. Pride. Failures. Accomplishments. Fears. Sorrow. Disappointment. Sin. Mistakes. Everything.

Creature comforts. Good deeds. The guilt we can’t get over. The grudge we’ve nursed. It’s all left on this side of the sea.

And that; that’s what baptism is, sisters and brothers. 

It is the sea where everything that keeps us from God is put to death.
Baptism is the sea of Death and new life. That lays at the heart of faith. The center of the life of faith. 

The Throne of God isn’t just majestic, is it? It’s fearsome, too. 

And that’s not all bad. Because at the Throne of God, we’re shown something that’s worse to lose than anything else. 

That’s what it means to fear God. 

To be so afraid of losing God, you are made able to part with anything else first. To be able to let go of everything that keeps you from crossing that sea. 

Many theologians commenting on this scene, miss its power. 

They rightly note that, in the heavenly throne room God is at the center of all things. But then they proceed to lecture us that we should to put God at the center.

But these theologians, as Wilco sings, “don’t know nothing about my soul.”

Because it never works that way, does it?
It’s not as easy as just cleaning out our souls and setting everything right. We don’t need any theologians telling us our souls are in arrears!

Why, if you’re anything like me, you’ve spent all week trying to put things in order. Waking up early to make time, going to the gym, praying, reading the self-help books, studying the catechism, reading the Bible. And no matter what, its not enough! My soul is still a mess. 

No matter what I can’t get myself to want to put anything other than my danged self at the center! And if not at the center of all things, at least at the center of my own little world.

And all I have to show is a pile of failures. Regrets. Sorrow.

But John doesn’t lecture us. He gives no blueprints for our lives. He doesn't bother telling how we ought to live; as if we don’t already have a clue something is off. 

No! Instead, John just takes us to the Throne we’ve been trying to get to all week. He lets us hear the hymns we’d sing if we only could. He shows us all creation in harmony, the peace we’ve been sick for. 

And, John shows us it all ours. He invites us to the Throne. All there is, is the Sea to cross…

Who among us wouldn’t gratefully lay everything else down if it meant being raised on the other side, at the Throne of God? 

To Sing the hymns. To know the joy. To find the peace only God can give.

In baptism, you were given the heart that longs for that. You were given the life that comes by it.

The reason seeing this throne, hearing these hymns, makes you want to sing. Why it makes an “amen” well up in your chest, is because in your baptism you were given the life that comes from your corpse and the power of God who kills to make alive. 

This creates faith in you; you know, that thing that happens when you hear these promises, and dare to trust that they are true for you. This makes faith in your because you’ve already been baptized into it. You’ve been given that heart, that life. 

So don’t just look at the Throne, come to it. Sing the hymns. Praise your God. Come.