John 13:31-35

Revelation 21:1-6

One of my great privileges as a pastor is to walk with those who are making the final leg of their journey on this earth. A sacred journey. And, while there are plenty of things to dislike about a long, drawn-out death, there are sometimes gifts in that process.

I will never forget being in a hospice room with a man who was dying, while he was experiencing a vision. He was able to describe it to us; in the moment it was happening. He said, “There is a white picket fence. And there are people on the other side of the fence. There is a church there, too. And the people are talking to me.”

He was experiencing a glorious vision, and he very much wanted us to see it too. His description of it was extraordinary, although I have no doubt that it could not have been but a pale reflection of what he saw in that moment.

A few days later I was with him again. He was very quiet, lost in thought. Suddenly he said to me, “You know, you can talk to them.” I wasn’t sure I understood, so he said, “The people on the other side of the fence, you can talk to them.” It was not too long after that he died.

I have thought of that so often over the years, wishing that we could all have an experience like that: a clear vision of the new heaven and new earth; an invitation to come and enter into it.

I know there are others who have an experience – a glimpse of the new creation in the time of their transition – and it seems to come in different forms.

I once sat with three sisters as they recalled their last hours with their mother before her death. While she was lying in her bed, she was transported to another place: outside, reclining in a lounge chair beside a pool. She spoke to her daughters about the pool, telling them she was thinking about taking the plunge. She wasn’t quite ready, though. She wasn’t afraid; it was a vision that enticed her. She just needed a bit more time.

Having spent many hours myself at the pool, sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun, until it is the right moment to take the plunge into the water. I imagine that this woman knew when it was time. But in that moment, she said to her daughters, “let’s just sit here and relax for a little while longer.” And they did – for a little while more, before she departed.

In this vision of John’s, we hear a loud voice that says, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them and be their God.”

In this, we hear echoes of the very first things – the story of the garden in Genesis, Chapter 2. God created a perfect world and made humans to live in it. And there in that perfect world, God dwelt with them.

For a while. Things happened. Humans broke stuff that we couldn’t fix, and the world became a pale shadow of what it once was. Of what it could be. Of what, John says, it will become.

A new heaven and a new earth, here where we are. And the holy city coming down out of heaven. The first things have passed away; all things are made new.

And in that transition, the sea is gone. No more watery chaos that separates people from one another, that causes storms and floods and all kinds of destruction. The waters that separate us from one another and from God are no more.

Many things are gone in this vision. There are no longer tears; there is no death, no crying, no pain. All this must go; the old order has passed away. The one who sits on the throne says, “I am making all things new.”

There is no dire threat in this. It is none of the Left Behind nonsense that fills us with terror and dread. This is a vision of God’s final act for us at the end of this age. God heals all things, renews this creation, and comes down to dwell with us on earth. And this will be an upgrade for us all – because, you know, this is God’s home.

This vision John shared with the church gives us assurance that God has not, and never will, abandon us. God has not, and never will, abandon all that God created. It gives us a glimpse of the glorious future to come, and invites this future to shape the lives we live now.

The home of God among mortals. And he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more. We see a fully restored world, healed of all that has caused pain and suffering, death and destruction. And it is right here.

It is not necessary to get too far into the weeds about how it will look. It is less than helpful to try to nail down the details and transcribe a vision into a user’s manual. Such efforts could never do it justice. The realm of God is only a vision to us now, but the vision gives us what we need to begin, in this life, to live into it.

Sometimes, when it comes to death, we have questions. I spent a good deal of time with a woman in the months before her death – a woman who had lots of questions: How will I find my loved ones? How will I recognize them? Will they recognize me? Do they know I’m coming?

Many of us have questions about death. But the vision of John, along with the visions I have described to you today, leave me with some important questions about life.

Such as: What is our calling in this life now, if God’s ultimate desire is for this world to be restored to goodness, a realm with no pain, no tears? There is potentially great harm in the notion of leaving this world behind. In the Left Behind universe of thought, those who are saved are snatched away, and they watch the wretched ones left behind as they suffer; they watch from their comfortable seats in the balcony, as this world is destroyed.

But this is the world in which God desires to dwell with us. It is not a disposable that you throw in the trash when you are done with it. People and animals who live on this earth are not disposable, to be used for our satisfaction until we are done with them. Everything God has created is beloved by God. Everything God has created is all a part of where God expects to dwell – with us. Who are we humans to treat it all with disdain?

It is essential that we rethink our ideas about salvation if those ideas separate us from the world in which we live. Salvation is not being swept away and watching the poor losers and suckers left behind as they suffer. Salvation is more about being co-creators with God in making a permanent and life-giving home for us all right here. Jesus is our teacher in this work.

Two thousand years ago, God came to us in the form of an infant, and he was called Immanuel, which means “God with us.” He taught us by his words and his actions to heal sickness, to feed the hungry, to love without condition.

And in the revelation, a vision of a new heaven and a new earth, we see the fullness of Immanuel, God with us, with all creation.

The home of God is among mortals. The realm of God, in all its fullness, is as near as the next breath, on the other side of a thin veil. It is our calling to live in this world as though this new age is already here. To love one another. As we hear Jesus say in the Gospel of John, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.”

This is our commandment, this is our calling. To love, one person at a time, one critter at a time; one flower, one mountain, one river at a time. And in this, inch by inch we move toward the glorious realm of God.

Picture: Churchart.com