"At Dawn Look to the East"

I am becoming an optimist of the future, at least for the moment. 

It's hard to think of being one in the wake of the violence in Boston and the violence that engulfs our world every day. And after the factory explosion in West, Texas, we are justified to become more pessimistic or apathetic toward the future. We would be justified in removing our kids from school and keeping them home so that they may be safe. But we know that the home does not provide any more safety than the local playground. We know when we step outside and participate in this world, we are going to encounter dangers and horrible deeds; but we are going to encounter good deeds as well.

We may be bombarded by the images of explosions, crying, and terror; but in the midst of that terror are people who are working to right it. These events do not just happen here in our land of freedom but every day in countries where fear is an ominous cloud looming; yet there are people who are out there right now, striving to make a wrong world right. Every day, untold stories are happening. Every day someone is trying desperately to help usher in the kingdom of heaven. Every day, if we just looked hard, we might see the rainbow hiding behind the clouds.

There are moments though when we are simply unable to see any good in the world or in anyone. There are moments when there is nothing but broken rainbows and dreams. There are moments when words will not do and all we can afford is a tear or two. There are moments when we simply want to wash our hands of this and go sit on a hilltop awaiting the return of the Lord. Those are the moments when we see light and dark wrestle for dominance. Those are the moments when light has all but been extinguished and it is has hard to see the good; but there is still good in those dark moments. Even if our tears are all we have, we still have our tears. There is light in such a thing. There is still good if our tears are all that remain.

In a vision of sight beyond sight, John writes of seeing a parade of people from every nation, every tribe, every people, every language, and they are standing before the throne of God and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands, crying out in one loud voice: "Salvation belongs to the our God who is seated on the throne, and to the lamb."

Whether this cry is a cry of rejoicing, happiness, or sorrow and pain, we are not fully told. John continues saying that an elder places his arm around asking, "Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?"

"Sir," he replies, "You are the one that knows."

"These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and been made white in the blood of the Lamb. For this reason they are before the throne. They will worship day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." (Revelation 7:9-17 Loose Translation)

I find strange comfort in this vision. I find comfort in the healing of the promise of the one who will be our God and we God's people. In the vision a strange sense of hope overcomes me in this hopeless time and my optimism is renewed because I truly know that if I, if we want to sit in the awe of the kingdom of heaven then we must wade through the hell of this earth. I, we cannot look upon the throne and find comfort if I, we do not look in this earth and seek to give comfort. This vision is empty and vain without the souls of those who were torn apart under the empire of Rome. John's vision is empty without the souls whose tears water the ground beneath our feet. This vision holds no meaning without the 8 year old cheering on his father. This vision holds no meaning without the firefighters and volunteers searching through the rubble. This vision holds no meaning without the memory of the young and innocent.

This vision holds no meaning if we are not connected through both the beauty and ugliness of our world. We are not blessed because we mourn, or are poor, or meek; but because ours is the kingdom of heaven; because we comforted; because we will inherit the earth. The persecuted are not blessed because of persecution but because theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

I am reminded of a story, one that I am certain that I have shared before, but it fits so allow me a repeat:

There once was prominent preacher speaking at a local church one evening. After his well crafted sermon, the church gathered up at the front of the sanctuary for a discussion and he asked if anyone would like him to recite their favorite scripture passage. Someone stood up and said, “I would like to hear the 23^rd Psalm. If you'd please.” The preacher happily obliged and he began eloquently, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff—they comfort me. You prepare a table before me. In the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.”

After he finished the congregation applauded such a reciting. The eloquence of the words came through so beautifully, and they are were all impressed. An old man stood up asking, “Preacher, that was a fine reading. May I give it a try.” The preacher obliged and the old man began, “The LORD is MY shepherd, I shall not want. HE makes ME lie down in green pastures; HE leads ME beside still waters; HE restores MY soul. HE leads ME in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for YOU are with ME; YOUR rod and YOUR staff—they comfort ME. YOU prepare a table before ME. In the presence of MY enemies; YOU anoint MY head with oil; MY cup overflows. Surely YOUR goodness and mercy shall follow ME all the days of ME life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD MY whole life long.”

After the finishing the old man with tears in his eyes took his seat. The congregation sat in stun silence, many with tears of their own. Finally, after a few minutes, the preacher stood up and said, “I know the 23^rd Psalm. This man knows the shepherd.”

We, the church, know the shepherd. Those who have gone through the great ordeals of life know the shepherd. We know what it means to blessed as we mourn because we are being comforted. We, who know what it means to suffer, are blessed because ours is the kingdom of heaven. We know the shepherd.

Again, these stories remind me of another. In All Star Superman, Superman has essentially died and has a vision of his father who guides him back to life, "You have given them an ideal to aspire to, embodied their highest aspirations. They will race, and stumble, and fall and crawl, and curse, and finally they will join you in the sun. In time you will no longer be alone. For Krypton, it was always too late. But the rest of us, the gold in us, will survive in you. All that is impure will be burn to ash. And all that is strong and great and true will survive and be reborn” (All Star Superman issue 12)

We, the church, have been given an ideal, an image to aspire to. This image embodied our highest aspiration, our highest meaning, and we have raced after it. We have run this race, striving to be like the forerunner, to be like Christ (as the writer of Hebrews urges us to do, “And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.”), and yes we have fallen. Yes, we have stumbled. Yes, we have crawled. And yes, oh yes, we have cursed. In those dark moments, we have cursed and felt alone. But as the dust begins to clear, we have our found ourselves with Christ, standing in the sun.

The vision of Revelation reminds us in the dark moments of factory explosions, wildfires, and the destruction of school shootings, movie theater massacres, bombings, terrorist attacks, national and local tragedies, the random of acts of violence, if we look to the east we will find ourselves standing with Christ in the sun.

The vision of Revelation reminds us in the dark moments that go unpublicized; the dark moment of the soul, the dark moments of cancer, Parkinson, Alzheimer, depression, schizophrenia, bipolar, Dementia, suicide, imprisonment, sexual and physical abuse, loneliness, anger, and even death, if we look to the east we will find ourselves standing with Christ in the sun.

The vision of Revelation reminds us in those dark moments of this life, when hope is absent and fear, anger, and hate are all around, to reach out to our neighbor, take them by the hand, and look to the east. To look to the east for the sun will soon rise. Let the words of elder speak to us and remind us to look to the east for soon we will find ourselves in the green pastures and beside the still waters of the springs of life, and there we will be standing in the sun with Christ.

Come, Lord Jesus, come and let it be so. Amen and amen.