New World

A New World Now, and Yet to Come

Ralph DiBiasio-Snyder

May 6, 2007

Acts 11:4-10, Revelation 21:1-6

Introduction to the Readings:

These two seemingly very different readings nevertheless have two things in common: In both, something comes down from heaven, that is, something is revealed from God. In the Acts passage it is - oddly enough - a sheet filled with various animals. In Revelation the New Jerusalem comes down from heaven.

And in both passages something new - radically new - is announced.

In Acts it is a whole new way of understanding the ways and will of God. Until this moment of revelation a faithful, practicing Jew, even if he like Peter counted himself a follower of Jesus, he felt obligated to observe the strict, kosher laws of foods. Certain foods were clean and could be eaten with thanks and joy; other foods were unclean and forbidden.

That's how you showed your faithfulness: by obeying the laws that carefully delineated between clean and unclean foods, clean and unclean practices, and even clean and unclean people. This story about Peter's vision changed all that for those earliest Christians. It opened the way for Gentiles - non-Jews - you and me - to be included in God's grace, the family of God. That's a radical change!

And in passage we will hear from Revelation, the "something new" announced is, well, it's everything. A whole new world, where God lives among humankind, wiping the tears from our eyes. "The things of the past" - all that caused pain and suffering, indignity and injustice, sorrow and hatred . . . that's all done. And who is accepted now? Who does God invite to come? Not only the Hebrew people; not even only those who believe - Jew and Gentile. Now it is "everyone who is thirsty." That is: everyone is welcome in the New Jerusalem.

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In the last book in C.S. Lewis' series, The Chronicles of Narnia, we are given a vision of the culmination of all things, the end of this world, and the beginning of a new world, and a new heaven. In the mystical land of Narnia, as you may know, animals and dwarfs and other creatures, even trees - not just humans - are living, talking beings in the care of Aslan, the great lion king. And so we have a wonderful scene of all these fantastical creatures entering heaven, as it were, going "farther up and farther into" the healing, glorious presence of God.

Along the way, though, is a little group of dwarfs, huddled and alone. And Lucy - one of the humans in the procession toward God, toward unimaginable light, notices them. Now, the dwarfs had played a particularly evil role in the battles for Narnia, and they were loved by none. Still, here they were, invited to come up into the heavenly city. Here's how they are described:

. . . . They had a very odd look. They weren't strolling about or enjoying themselves, . . . nor were they lying down and having a rest. They were sitting very close together in a little circle facing one another. They never looked around, or took any notice of the humans.

You see this little group imagines that they are not in heaven, but in a deep, black hole. And despite all the efforts of Lucy and even of Aslan, to shake them of their sad and stubborn mistake, they cannot be convinced otherwise. They refuse to believe that they are invited, that there is light to be seen simply for the asking. They stay chained to one another in their own darkness, so sure they are of their own beliefs about the world, and God, and themselves.

They have drawn the circle so tightly around themselves, around their own ways, that they have severed themselves for the rest of the world, and even from God too.

The story of the Bible is the unfolding story of one nation's, one race's, experience with and understanding of God. Way back in Genesis 11 one man and his wife - Abraham and Sarah - begin the Hebrew nation. They believe themselves and their progeny to be chosen of God - from all of humanity - to be the people of God.

After them came Moses and the Law, the Torah, the prophets . . . and the Jewish people like so many others, like we ourselves, had made for themselves a religion - a way of not only understanding God for themselves, but of denying God to anyone other than themselves. Religions - ours too, of course - tend to do that. Just how wide is God's embrace? Just wide enough for us!

When a Hebrew man, Jesus, begins his ministry centuries after Abraham and Sarah, his religious tradition had become sadly for many a mere system of laws ? laws which drew clear lines between the "clean" and the "unclean" of the world. There were lines drawn between men and women, adults and children, rich and poor, the well and the sick, those who kept all the rules and those who did not. The clearest line - the highest wall - was between Jew and Gentile. The Gentile was beyond God's embrace.

And Jesus dared to challenge those lines, those walls. That was surely in part why he was executed.

But the risen Christ, living in the midst of those first followers of the Way of Christ, continued to challenge anything that would limit the embrace of God's love. Soon non-Jewish people - Gentiles previously thought to be far outside of God's love - began showing up in those gatherings of Christ-followers. And there was a great stir within the church, and among its leaders: Just how wide is God's embrace?

The reading from Acts marked a great turning point in the history of the church, and of our evolving, expanding understanding of how God works in the world, and just who is included in that work. I encourage you to read the entire chapter 18 of Acts. For now let me just say that in this story everything changed. In this vision of Peter's no small part of the Hebrew Torah Law is swept away, and anew way of thinking about God is opened up. A new word is spoken to the church: How wide is God's embrace? It is an embrace that enfolds all who would follow Jesus, Jew and Gentile, men and women, slave and free . . . All, all who by faith follow him are in the embrace of God now. That was a radical change, a new word from God that was hard to swallow for many.

But how dare we stop there? Can we believe in an embrace of God that is yet wider? The visionary of the book of Revelation seems to be able to. He can see a new heaven and a new earth. He can see a God no longer only "in heaven" but on earth as well. A God who wipes away every tear, who says that "the things of the past are gone forever."

And here is a God who will freely give the water of life not reluctantly, grudgingly, only to the "truly" faithful, the self-righteous, those with the right creed. This God gives water not to this nation or that, or even this religion or that. Here at the very end of the Bible God says, "I will freely give water from the life-giving fountain to everyone who is thirsty."

To everyone who is thirsty. That's an amazing invitation! Some churches practice what we call a "closed communion" when offering the Lord's Supper. That is, you are welcome at their Table only if you are a member in good standing of that particular church. Others say that you may come if you are a member of a church of that same denomination. Some are more broad practice "open communion" and say that all who are Christians - from any Protestant or Catholic tradition - may participate in the Table of the Lord.

But can the invitation be broader still? Today we say Come, all who are thirsty. For whatever else this sacrament means, however mysterious and profound and deeply theological is this ritual of our church, the church of Jesus Christ all around the world, this simple eating from a common loaf around a single, open Table at least - perhaps at most - says to all, You are welcome, my child.