Revelation 21:1-7Romans 8:31-39
Okay, Question: What have we seen in the last week? What have we seen in the last seven days, since the last time we were all in one place – here in this church, for instance? A lot of time has passed. Seven days. That’s 168 hours to be exact. And preachers ought to know that kind of number. “Whether you’re ready or not, Sunday comes every 168 hours!” But really, what have we seen in that time? What sort of images have we encountered? If our eyes were cameras, can you imagine how many pictures they would have taken in the last 168 hours? I bet we would be astounded.
But maybe we don’t just see with our eyes. Maybe we see in other ways too. How about with our minds? What if we could have a list, a print-out, of every memory we thought about even briefly this week? Memories contain images too. Can you imagine how long that list would be? And then, what if we put all our lists into one collective mega-list? I bet it would be huge. And then, what if we could know how much time we had spent thinking about the past this week, our memories – what if we could know that too, down to the second? I bet we would be astounded.
Images of the past in our memories. . .images of the present, captured with our senses, perhaps captured with the camera which is our eye. . . Are there other types of images too – other ways of seeing, perceiving? How about with our imaginations? What if we could have a list, a print-out, of every image we’ve created this week as we’ve thought about what our future might look like? And then, what if we put all our lists into one collective mega-list? Again, I bet it would be huge. And then, what if we could know how much time we had spent thinking about the future, our projections in our imagination – what if we could know that too, down to the second? I bet we would be astounded.
We are image people. Images are all around us and within us. And images aren’t necessarily only what we see. They may be impressions or feelings that we experience or create. We’re constantly taking them in and evaluating their significance. Now, if we really were able to take in all those statistics I’ve mentioned from the last week, I have a feeling that the images on our enormous lists would be related in some way. After all, how many images of the future are connected to images of the past and present? How often do we project images of future scenarios within our imaginations which cause us all sorts of anxiety, maybe even terror, as we think about them? Many of these future scenarios played out in our imaginations are connected to the past, reformatted for our own present consideration. The truth is, sometimes we’re immensely afraid of reliving what we experienced in the past.
Now, I’ll tell you something kind of silly. Of all things in this universe that I could possibly afraid of, I have an immense phobia of daddy long legs! Really. Daddy long legs, of all things! They’re so harmless. They can’t do anything to hurt me! But then again, who said phobias have to be logical? Many times, they aren’t. Yeah, they’re harmless all right, but daddy long legs are so creepy. Their immensely long appendages are awkwardly feeling around in every direction. And if one is hanging onto a wall somewhere, and I have to pass that wall, I immediately imagine this creepy, yet harmless arachnid pouncing on me right there on the spot. Or if someone were to tell me that we were going on a walk in the woods and they warned me that there would be a lot of bugs, my imagination would immediately jump to images of my “favorite” creature of the woods. I wouldn’t let that keep me from walking, of course, but I could imagine some daddy long leg walking right over my foot or brushing my arm with one of its harmless, yet creepy legs. . .
For some reason, I’ve always been afraid of them. But a couple of years ago, my mother said something very interesting. “Renee, do you remember the time when we were camping – you were really young - and we went into that campground bathroom filled with hundreds of daddy long legs?” And as I sat there and thought, I realized, “YES!” I do remember that. I must have been about three years old, and I was terrified. Well, that’s interesting. So, my phobia works this way. Images of the past influence my hypothetical images of the future. (After all, who knows what those creepy daddy long legs are going to do to me?) And my images of the hypothetical future cause me to live in fear in the present. Those images capture my present. Interesting. All of these images are related.
But what happens when the images on our list – past, present, and future, aren’t harmless at all? What happens when they’re the complete opposite --absolutely harmful? I have a feeling that we would have many shared images on our collective mega-list from this week. There are plenty of images from the news channels to challenge us, to haunt us. There are often images of people whose lives are torn apart in war. There are images of people who have lived without food for so long that they’re literally starving. There are images of families who are experiencing foreclosure on their houses and college students who can no longer pay tuition bills.
We were much younger in 2001, but perhaps some of us remember the images of broken steel, concrete, and asphalt on 9-11. Images of destruction spilled over in every direction. Those images stick with us, and “harmful” begins to sound like a benign word in comparison with the reality. Those images are horrendous, terrifying, disastrous. They capture our present. They cause us to live into fear. And those images form themselves into words also, “How on earth could this happen? How could U.S. intelligence miss this? What would I have done if a member of my family was in that building or on one of those planes? Why do these things happen? God, if you’re so loving and so powerful, how could you possibly let this happen?”
And maybe the images on the news channels evoke other ones from our memory. Maybe we think about our own community too. Maybe we think about our friends who are struggling. Maybe we think about the street kids we find on the drag. Those images often form themselves into words: “Why?”
Or maybe we don’t even look at the news channels at all because all of these horrendous, terrifying, disastrous images become a flood in themselves. These collective images that everyone sees are too overwhelming because we have images from our own lives to deal with. Sometimes we have to force ourselves to watch the news. I sometimes want to look away so desperately. After all, I have enough stress in my own life to deal with. We all have images from the past, which influence images of our future in our own imagination, and those images of the future capture how we live in the present.
And what do we do on a Sunday like this one, when we bring all our lists of images – past memories, present sights, and future imaginings -- to God? We carried them in when we walked in the door. What do we do on a Sunday like this one when we bring that collective mega-list to God – the collective mega-list which has all our community’s images on it? We might pray for God to show us meaning in this list. We might want to gain meaning from the images we carry and imagine.
And then God gives us some of the most incredible images to take with us. God gives us images which form themselves into words – God’s own Word for us even tonight. “And I saw a new heaven and a new earth.” Those are John’s words, words of the past, words of the late 1st century -- John, the faithful disciple who was exiled on the island of Patmos for his faith. And though they are John’s words, God’s Word with a capital “W” is found within them. They’re God’s images given to John. And here we are today. God is still giving them to us. Through John’s eyes, we see them too. The New Jerusalem, the holy city, coming down from God. Through John’s ears, we hear the voice he heard. “See, the home of God is among mortals, he will dwell with them, they will be his peoples, and God himself with be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes.” Do we see it? Do we hear it? What sort of image is this? God making his home among mortals!
If we were to capture this image through John’s original Greek words, we would see that the text has some nuances to it. It’s a wonderful image. We could picture it through words like these: “Behold! See with your own eyes! The tabernacle of God is with people! He will tabernacle with them, and they will be his people!” What a picture! God setting up tent with human beings! Can you see it? And God is doing this right in the midst of our suffering – right in the midst of death, mourning, and crying. The same God who chooses to set up tent with us, comes so near to each one of us. God wipes away every tear from our eyes. God wipes away every tear from that camera of ours – that camera which has recorded innumerable images, images which we see again every day in our present. These are God’s images for us! These are God’s images of hope for our present!
And what other images do we receive on a Sunday like this one? How about our text from Romans? We see God’s unfailing love, even in the midst of the things which cause us the greatest suffering. Here’s a question worth repeating today. Here’s a question worth saying straight at those images which ravage us: “If God is for us, who is against us?” What an image! God has chosen to be for us! We didn’t choose that. God chose it, and if God has chosen to be for us and has chosen us to be God’s very own, what could possibly separate us from that love? God has chosen it! What about these images that the text mentions? Can they separate us from God’s love? I’m sure we can picture them. Hardship? Distress? Persecution? Famine? Nakedness? Peril? Sword? Can you picture them? No, none of these can separate us from the love of God! None of these can separate us from the God who willfully chooses to set up tent with us!
As Paul says, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This is a love so expansive– so huge. It’s astounding! Nor anything else in all creation. . . what might those things be for us today? Can we see them? Could we say, “I am convinced that neither floods, nor disasters on 9-11, nor marital problems, nor struggles in our family, nor health problems that won’t leave, nor bills that can’t be paid, nor depression, nor anxieties, nor inadequacies, nor isolation, nor besetting sins can separate us from the love of God! Shall we continue? Neither lay-offs, nor unfulfilled hopes, nor unmet needs, nor unhealthy relationships! Neither alcoholism, nor racism, nor terrorism, nor any “ism” at all. Nothing can separate us from the love of God because God has chosen to love us! The forces and images of this world cannot revoke that love! God is forever setting up tent with us right in the midst of these forces – right in the midst of these images. “See! The home of God is among mortals!” These are God’s images for us! These are God’s images of hope for our present!
What would happen if God’s images accompanied the images we brought with us in the door? What would happen if we took them outside the door on our way home? What would happen if God’s vision captured our vision? On a Sunday like this one, we are encountered with images of hope. These are images of hope for our future. But these images aren’t simply confined to some distant future out there. They affect our present! They are hope for the future, yes, but they are also hope for now! It’s as if the future itself were reaching in and taking hold of the present. Horrendous, terrifying, disastrous images grab our attention, but we aren’t called to live into fear. We’re called to live into hope!
What can a life of hope look like in our community? Perhaps it can be a new way of envisioning the call of God during the season of Lent which has begun this week. Perhaps it is a recognition of the truth that God’s vision has captured our vision. It means we will continue to imagine images of hope for our world, living into those images. How will God’s vision continue to capture our vision in this season, and what will that mean for us, both in our individual lives and in our collective life of faith together? May we see with the eyes of faith. May we live into hope. May we live toward the one who sets up tent with us! Amen.
- Renée Roederer, Campus Minister
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