Message from the Moderator – Our Story Our Song: Consummation

Our Story, Our Song: Consummation

Rhonda Pittman Gingrich, Moderator

Throughout the Biblical Story, God repeatedly reminds the people to remember the Story. As God’s people, it is important for us to remember and tell God’s Story and to sing the songs of our faith—in good times and in bad times—so we don’t forget who we are and whose we are. When we forget who we are and whose we are, when we fail to remember and tell God’s Story and to sing the songs of our faith, we run the risk of allowing our identity and lives to be shaped by the prevailing stories of society. God’s Story must not simply be remembered (recited and heard), it must be re-membered (pieced together and retold in ways that connect intimately with our lives), understood, and embodied.

So as we continue to move through this year, I invite you to join me in an ongoing exploration of the overarching Story of God and God’s people—a story that continues to unfold through us today. To provide structure for this journey of remembrance and reflection, I am drawing on The Story of God, The Story of Us: Getting Lost and Found in the Bible by Sean Gladding.

So grab your hymnal and your Bible and join me in exploring the Story that reminds us who we are, whose we are, and who we are called to be and become.

Sing: Beyond a Dying Sun (Hymnal: A Worship Book, 323)

Read: Psalm 95-100; Daniel 7-12; Revelation 1-22

This month finds us exploring the closing chapters of the biblical story. In spite of great persecution, the early church continued to grow and flourish because of the fearless and faithful witness of those who had experienced the transformative power of the Gospel, God’s word made flesh in the person of Jesus. However, with the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. by a Roman Empire that felt threatened by allegiance to any other power, human or divine, many early Christians were forced to flee their homes and communities. The threat of increased persecution throughout the region began to take its toll on God’s people. Like the Isrealites in exile, they needed a “word of hope, a reason to keep going; they need[ed] to hear from God, to hear that God [had] not forgotten them, and that their suffering [was] not in vain” (Gladding, 222). The letter containing Jesus’ revelation to John began to circulate among the early churches, offering just such a word of hope.

Today we continue to live in trying times. While here in the United States, Christians, as a group, do not face persecution for our faith in the form of physical threat, there is much to lament. Christians elsewhere around the world, including our Nigerian brothers and sisters, do face the threat of physical violence on account of their faith. Fifty years after the Civil Rights movement, racial tensions seem to be on the rise in this country, provoked by increasingly hateful and intolerant rhetoric. Brothers and sisters of color—Christian and non-Christian—live with the very real fear of unprovoked violence. The gap between rich and poor continues to grow. Acts of terrorism seem to occur more and more frequently, as do senseless mass shootings. Wars rage around the world. And the church is not immune to the troubling spirit that pervades our world. Our own church is deeply divided. It seems as if the realization of God’s kindom is far, far away, a lofty, unattainable ideal. We, too, need a word of hope.

Note: The word kindom (above) is not a typo. I have intentionally chosen that word as opposed to the more traditional kingdom. The word kingdom carries with it connotations of patriarchy, domination, and disparity. In contrast, the word kindom suggestions relationship, connection, and mutuality. This does not mean the word kingdom cannot be redefined and reclaimed by the church in light of what Anabaptist scholar, Donald Kraybill, has articulated as Jesus’ “upside-down” kingdom”, where the patterns of dominant culture that favor the rich and powerful are set aside in favor of practices that uplift the marginalized. But until that definition is more widely understood, I think we must be thoughtful about the language we use and the negative connotations our language may carry causing harm to others and shaping our own understandings in unintentional ways.

But back to the story…John’s revelation was addressed to seven particular churches: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea. Although there were far more churches, these seven were located in cities that also served as important centers for the imperial cult, the worship of the emperor. Therefore, the early Christians in these communities faced extreme persecution.

For a people who had developed tunnel vision, only able to see the hardships that characterized their day to day existence, the Revelation reminded them that God reigns, calling them to look up and beyond to find their hope. These early Christian communities may have been suffering oppression under the rule of Rome, but the Revelation reminded them—and us—that although empires rise and empires fall, God remains faithful. When life’s circumstances overwhelm us, aren’t we also susceptible to tunnel vision that prevents us from seeing God’s reign and embracing our call to partner with God in building the kindom?

The message to each individual church has a similar structure.  In the opening lines to each church, Jesus is identified in ways that echo the language of the first chapter of Revelation: “the faithful witness”, “the firstborn of the dead”, “the ruler of the kings of the earth”, “the first and the last”, “the living one”, the source of light, and the wielder of the “sharp two-edged sword”. (Revelation 1:5-20).  Jesus then identifies with the specific situation each church is facing, commending some and chastising others. Then Jesus gives exhorts each church. These exhortations seem to carry four distinct messages for four distinct groups: “To those wavering in their conviction, the Revelation counsels faithfulness; to those holding firm in their obedience to God, it encourages endurance; to those who are losing their life through martyrdom, it promises reward; and to those persecuting the faithful, it pronounces judgment” (Gladding, 225). Jesus then offers a promise to each church—a promise of presence, a promise of victory, a promise of life—ending each message with the same phrase: “Are your ears awake? Listen. Listen to the Wind Words, the Spirit blowing through the churches” (Revelation 2:7, 11, 17, 29; 3: 6, 13, 22, The Message).

These individual messages, as well as the visions that follow, are full of images and symbols: allusions from Scripture and the culture of the time.  The repetition of patterns of numbers serves as a reminder that God’s world is not a world of chaos, but a world of order. The sea represents chaos, just as it did at the dawn of creation. The dragon represents the Devil. The beast emerging from the sea and welcomed by the dragon represents Rome (at times described as Babylon). The beast with horns like a lamb, but the voice of a dragon, represents the imperial cult, demanding worship of the emperor. The Lamb represents Jesus, the living one who conquered death, who rules as Prince of Peace. The sword of Jesus’ mouth, represents the Word of God. The throne represents God’s reign, realized and enduring. And so on.

Throughout the Revelation, the faithful are called to overcome all that stands in opposition to God’s reign, to seek and enter God’s kindom, remaining faithful to God and God alone. We are not immune to powers that stand in opposition to God’s reign. What are the parallels between our own country and Rome/Babylon in relation to the idolization of economic prosperity and the protection of that prosperity through military might? What are the forces that use seduction and false promises, power and might, wealth and status to further their own interests at the expense of others? What is it that draws your allegiance away from our God?

Those to whom Revelation was originally addressed understood that to pledge allegiance to God and live a life transformed by Christ, could mean death. But the power of the Gospel is in the promise that death does not equal defeat. Perhaps we are not facing martyrdom as a result of our faith, but we continually face death: the death of relationships, the death of dreams, the death of ideas, even our own natural mortality, but death does not equal defeat. “This is the hope of the Revelation. For this letter challenges our imagination. It lifts the veil from our eyes and allows us to see our situation—and indeed, all of history—from God’s perspective” (Gladding 227). This is not to say that belief in a mystical future becomes more important than the here and now. Rather, when we view our world through God’s eyes, our world is transformed and we are empowered for faithful living in this time and this place.

Although the Revelation is ripe with battle, above all, God’s reign is characterized by peace. “When Rome brings ‘peace,’ it creates a wasteland. But the Prince of Peace, Jesus, [who suffered violence and apparent defeat at the hands of the empire], will one day bring an end to violence” (Gladding 232). As I write in the wake of the death of Alton Sterling in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and Philando Castile, in Falcon Heights, Minnesota, both at the hands of police officers, and the death of several police officers in Dallas in a senseless act of retaliation, my imagination is challenged by this promise of the end to the violence that has plagued humanity since the early days of our Story when Cane killed Abel. How does the vision of God’s kindom challenge your imagination and empower you for faithful living?

In the closing chapter, everything comes full circle: creation is restored to its original state; God dwells in the midst of God’s people—the church, the City of God; and covenant love flourishes. After all, this Story of which we are a part, is a story, a song of unconditional, incarnational love.

And so we have reached the end of the biblical story, but we must remember that God’s Story continues to this day. This is the lesson of Revelation: God’s Story will continue to unfold until God’s kindom is fully realized.  As God’s people, we are not called to twiddle our thumbs and wait passively for the consummation of God’s kindom, but to actively partner with God in the creation of God’s kindom, “to heal and restore shalom to all that is broken in God’s beautiful world” (Gladding, 235). God’s love incarnate, God’s word made flesh, finds life and breath in the church, the body of Christ. This is our Story, this is our Song.

Sing: Oh, Holy City Seen of John (Hymnal: A Worship Book, 320)