Thanks Be To God!

Revelation 1:4-8

November 22, 2015 (Christ the King) • Mount Pleasant UMC

It’s sort of a strange world—even stranger than usual—that surrounds us as we approach Thanksgiving this year, isn’t it? Just a little over a week ago, terrorist attacks were carried out in the streets of Beirut and Paris, and in the week since, there have been air strikes on ISIS, raids in Paris neighborhoods, along with calls for understanding, patience and peace. Indiana became one of the early states whose governor decided we would not accept any Syrian refugees over the concern of terrorists hiding in those refugee groups, and immediately people started reminding us that 750,000 refugees have been resettled in American since 9/11 and none of them has been arrested on any terrorism charges. It’s a strange world, a somber world, one in which there are no easy answers. And in the midst of all that, along comes this day we call Thanksgiving.

If tradition holds, we will gather around warm hearths and at tables with family and friends. We will stuff ourselves silly with turkey, cranberries and green bean casserole—oh, and don’t forget the pecan pie! Then we will complain about how much we’ve eaten and settle onto the couch to nap or read or watch football on television. Some of us will gear up to head out to brave the Black Friday crowds; I have a friend whose family spends part of Thursday evening strategizing the best way to attack their favorite store on Friday morning. Thanksgiving will most likely remain a day of tradition, even in the midst of a strange and dark world.

So, in our family, one of those traditions has been to go around the table and share something we’re thankful for before we get to the prayer and the good food. I’m guessing we’re not the only ones who do that—anyone else? So, let’s be honest: how many of us just say whatever comes to mind so that we can get to the prayer and then on to the turkey? And yet, in the world that we find ourselves in today, a world of terrorism and fear and questions about refugees and homelessness, maybe it’s time to get beyond the superficial and truly give thanks. How do we sincerely give thanks when we live in a threatening world?

For an idea of what that might look like, this morning we’re turning to the last book of the Bible, the book of Revelation. This book was not written to serve primarily as a finale to the Bible; it was written to encourage believers in Asia Minor, or modern-day western Turkey, who were often the victims of what we might call state-sponsored terrorism. Christianity was flourishing at the end of the first century; in fact, it was spreading so quickly that a governor of the time complained to the emperor that the pagan temples were being forsaken because so many people were becoming Christians (Keener, NIV Application Commentary: Revelation, pgs. 66-67)! Wouldn’t it be great if such a thing could be said today! At the same time, in an effort to undermine the spread of the faith, there was persecution breaking out in various parts of the Roman Empire. John, the author of Revelation, had been exiled to the island of Patmos, about fifty miles off the coast, because of his preaching and his faith. A little over a year ago, I had the chance to walk on the island of Patmos, and in the afternoon, after the official tour, a group of us climbed to the top of the acropolis. Patmos is really quite a beautiful island; our resident scholar pointed to one of the little rocks in the sea and said, “If I had been the Roman governor and I wanted to punish someone, I’d send them there, not here. But then,” he said, “that may say more about me than about Patmos.”

John has been living in Ephesus, the first city this Revelation is addressed to. Ephesus was the most important Roman city in the province, and it was filled to overflowing with Roman temples and government buildings. It was also a study in contrasts. Along the main road, which is still well preserved today, there were beautiful apartments built where the wealthy looked, where they could be near the action but look down on everything and everyone. Others, most likely including the Christians, lived in much smaller places on the outskirts of town. The wealth and significance of this city was not shared by everyone (cf. Wright, Revelation for Everyone, pg. 3).

And a lot of the reason the Christians were left out of society is because of who they worshipped. When you walk down the main street of ancient Ephesus, you can’t help but notice that every other building, it seems, is either a temple to an emperor or some sort of monument to the power and glory of the Roman Empire. The belief that Caesar was Lord is something ingrained in every fiber of the Empire. Caesar must be worshipped. And then along come these Christians who dare to say Caesar is not Lord. Caesar must not be worshipped; Jesus is Lord, and only Jesus is worthy or worship. So imagine you’re sitting in one of these churches, perhaps the church in Ephesus, in the midst of this sort of tension, and this letter from your friend John arrives. Now, they’re not in a nice church building like we are; they’re in someone’s home, possibly in secret, and the letter is being read as the sermon for the day. John has received a special message from Jesus to share with the churches in Asia Minor, and that message begins with this affirmation: “Grace and peace to you from him who is, and who was, and who is to come, and from the seven spirits before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth” (1:4-5). John is reminding his brothers and sisters that it may look like Caesar is in charge. It may look like the state has won, and that terror will be their life from here on out, but that’s not reality. John reminds the people that Jesus is the true ruler. Jesus is in charge, not Rome. He rules over Rome. And no matter what power Rome thinks they have, Jesus is still Lord over even that. He rules over those who think they have power. Sometimes, when life gets difficult, when the challenges seem too great, when the world seems to be a frightening place, we need to be reminded of this truth: Jesus is Lord. He is the ruler of the kings of the earth, so no matter what happens in America, or France, or Lebanon, or Syria, or Russia, or any other place in our weary world, this truth does not change: Jesus is Lord. He will prevail when all is said and done (Smith & Card, Unveiled Hope, pg. 27).

Now, because this is a service of thanksgiving, I want to give you a few opportunities today to give thanks. So, right now, turn to someone and share just briefly what it means to you that Jesus is Lord. How does that affect your everyday life? Turn to one other person and share about that; I’ll give you sixty seconds to do that.

SHARING: “Jesus is Lord”

So Jesus is the ruler of the kings of the earth; he is Lord, and nothing any ruler can do will change that truth. That’s why John establishes that up front, early on in this letter. Now, look what John says next because it’s about you and me. John says Jesus has made us “a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father” (1:6). It’s really tough to read Revelation if you haven’t read the Old Testament because so much of the imagery John uses as he tries to describe what he sees is deeply rooted in the pages of the Hebrew Scriptures. These words, for instance—kingdom and priests. A “kingdom” is often thought of as a geographical reality, a nation or a piece of land owned, in some respects by the king. But really a kingdom is any place or any life where the king reigns. A kingdom may be geographical, or it may be widespread in little places all over the world. This kingdom exists any place where the king has influence, has power. So what does it mean that we are made into a kingdom? It means that Jesus, who is the ruler of the kings of the earth, wants to take up residence and, even more importantly, have influence in our lives. We are being made into a place where Jesus reigns. Me, my individual life, is part of the kingdom of God but even more than that, I am a kingdom as I allow Jesus to make me more like him. The Hebrews understood this; one of the earliest calls on their lives was to be holy, to be like God, and the reason they were called to be holy, called to be his kingdom, is because they were God’s special and treasured possession (cf. Leviticus 20:26).

In other words, our lives matter to God. He wants to make something beautiful out of each and every one of our lives. There’s this whole movement these days to decide and proclaim that certain groups matter. Hashtags show up on Twitter and Facebook proclaiming that “Black Lives Matter” and “Police Lives Matter” and “Military Lives Matter.” I always want to respond: “Of course! Those lives matter because all lives matter!” Your life matters to God, even if no one else thinks so. The beautiful words of Psalm 27 say, “Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me” (27:10). In a world that seems to say otherwise, your life matters. In a world that at times feels threatening, your life matters; you are being made into God’s kingdom.

And you’re being made into a priest. When we think of priests, we might think of it in the modern sense, a Catholic pastor, or someone who wears a special collar, or any number of other images. But the priest in the Old Testament, the one that the readers of this Revelation would have been familiar with, were best described as “lead worshippers.” The priests were the ones who gathered the people before God, who led the worship service, who offered the sacrifices the people had brought, who prayed for the people. Now, granted, you read through the Old Testament and there are times when the priesthood fared better than others. There are times when they get it right and times when they get it completely wrong. But at their best, the priest was the primary person who worshipped God and who pointed others toward that same worship-filled lifestyle.

God is making you into a lead worshipper, one who shows the world what a life of worship looks like, one who points the world toward worship of the one true God. Remember that in the world these believers lived in, worshipping the emperor was the norm. These Christians dared to worship a God no one could see and no one could touch. They risked their lives and their livelihood by shunning emperor worship in order to point the world toward Jesus. And that led to some difficult times for them. Some would have been shut out of the first-century equivalent of labor unions, the guilds. Some would have lost friends. Some might have even been at risk for their lives because of who they worshipped. This message from Jesus through John reminds them again of that important truth, a truth that would sustain them on difficult days: your life matters. It matters to God (cf. Keener 71).

So when are the times God has whispered those words to your heart and spirit? In my twenty-two years of ministry, there have been good times and difficult times, but there have only really been two times I can remember where I seriously considered leaving ministry and doing something else. I once told Cathy I could go work at a bookstore—back when bookstores were a thing—except that I would end up owing them money! One time I remember actually getting out the want ads and looking through them, only to discover that I’m not actually qualified to do anything! The other time when I was just about to give up, when I honestly felt like nothing I had done really mattered, I got an invitation from the Annual Conference to attend a renewal retreat. Honestly, that’s the last thing I wanted to do, to be around happy people who were excited about their ministry, but it was also a free ticket out of town for a few days, so I signed up. And it was in the midst of that retreat, as our speakers poured into us, that I heard again God whispering, “Your life matters. You are a kingdom and a priest.” I needed to hear that, and maybe you do, too, today. Your life matters. God is using you, even when you can’t see it. You may never know exactly who you have touched with the grace and kindness of God, but as you live faithfully for him, he will use you as a kingdom and priest.

If we can give thanks in the difficult times, we can give thanks in every other time. So, take another minute, turn to someone (maybe the same person, or maybe someone else this time) and share very briefly something that has happened this past year that reminded you that God is with you and that your life matters. I’ll give you 90 seconds this time.

SHARING: “My Life Matters”

There’s another piece to being a kingdom and priests in the midst of a difficult world, and that’s our call to be Christ’s representatives in the world. Priests represent God in the midst of a world that doesn’t recognize him, that doesn’t see him. Priests hold firmly onto the claim that the separation between this world and God’s world, between heaven and earth (for lack of better terms), is not that far. In fact, priests are witness to the reality that God is closer than we think he is. He is powerful, he is almighty, he is absolutely other than we are, and yet he is as close as our next breath. Heaven and earth meet and merge in more ways than we can imagine, but most of us miss it because we’re not paying attention (cf. Wright 3). We miss when God shows up. As God’s priests, it’s our call and responsibility to help the world see the work of God—especially the work of God that has begun in us. Folks, the best evidence for God’s presence in the world is still a changed life.

Peter used the same sort of language when he described our calling: “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9). That phrase God’s “special possession” is translated in the King James as “a peculiar people.” Do you know what that means? It means you’re strange! You’re different! You’re odd! You don’t fit into a world that tries so hard to deny God exists. Instead, you’re called to do the peculiar thing of representing him, declaring his praises, helping others see his work in your life. We are his kingdom and priests.

In a few days, many of us are going to be sitting down at Thanksgiving tables with family and friends, and there may be some folks in our gatherings who do not yet know Jesus. And they are watching you. The world is watching you and me, wanting—longing—to see someone for whom faith makes a genuine difference. Our culture has had enough “fake religion.” They want to see a genuine relationship with Jesus. You are his priest, his representative in those moments. How will you respond?

Maybe the next day, some of you are going to be going out to shop all the Black Friday sales. Every year, people find themselves injured and one or two find themselves killed in an effort to get the best deals. As Jesus’ priest, how will you represent him in the midst of the craziness? When the person elbows you to get ahead of you in line? When they say rude things? How will you respond?

We live in a dangerous world, a world where refugees and terrorists get all confused and where our politics gets all mixed up. I don’t know the answer; I don’t know if there is one clear political answer to the things that trouble our world. But I do know this: Jesus came for all. He came to pay the price for the sins of the politician, the refugee, the terrorist, the preacher and the ordinary person on the street. I know what my fallen heart wants to do to respond to this latest round of terror, but I’m not convinced that’s what Jesus would do. So when the topic comes up around the Thanksgiving table, how will you respond?

I love the model the Revive Wabash Valley teams have been using in our community. The model they present gives us four words that might help us in our desire to represent Jesus well in the coming days, and on any day actually. If we could get these four words down and into our faith vocabulary, we would always be on the lookout for opportunities to share the faith. The words are these: love - listen - discern - respond. We love, first of all. We love without conditions, the way Jesus would. We love because that person is valuable in God’s sight. Then we listen to where the other person is in their life, without judgment and without butting in with our own comments. Just listen. As we listen, we discern where they might be in a faith journey, or if there is any faith journey at all. We discern, with the help of God’s spirit speaking to our spirit, what they need from us. And then, and only then, we respond. We offer hope. We share what Jesus has done in our lives, because people can and will argue about a lot of things, but they cannot argue with or discount your own story. Love, listen, discern, respond—and be Jesus’ representative in your own personal world.

So, now, one more time, turn to someone else and share one way you will represent Jesus this week or, especially, during the coming holiday weekend? You’ve got 60 seconds.

SHARING: “Representing Jesus”

Jesus is ruler over the kings of the earth. We are his kingdom. And we are his priests. So now, I’ve given you three things to think about as you approach Thanksgiving, three things you can use when they go around the table and awkwardly share what you’re thankful for. You’ve got at least three things to think about and give thanks for other than the potatoes—you’re welcome!

Now, one more thing: twice in this passage, we have the Hebrew word “Amen.” We usually use it just as a word to close our prayers, like it means, “Okay, I’m signing off now, God.” But the word is really an affirmation that means “so be it.” May what I just prayed come to be. In the Old Testament, when it’s used in reference to God, it refers to God’s faithfulness, and when it’s used in reference to human beings, it means having faith. We trust that God will come through (Palmer, Communicator’s Commentary: 1, 2, 3 John, Revelation, pg. 118). We have hope in God’s faithfulness, that what he has said, he will do. So, before we pray this morning, I want to try something else. I’m going to share some Biblical promises, and what I invite you to do is, if you’ve found this promise to be true in your life, to shout “Amen” as an affirmation and an offering of thanksgiving. So I’ll read the promise, and you respond, “Amen.” Got it? Let’s try this…

“The Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6). AMEN!

“Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23). AMEN!

“You, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness” (Psalm 86:15). AMEN!

“No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). AMEN!

“The Lord…will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one” (2 Thessalonians 3:3). AMEN!

And let all God’s people say…AMEN! Let’s pray.