The City of God

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson Manassas Presbyterian Church Manassas, Virginia May 1, 2016 The City of God Revelation 21:1-6 “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “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; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.” ********************************************************* The Green Mountains of Vermont – majestic, covered with lush forests, the soothing whoosh of wind through evergreens, the gentle burble of cold rivers and streams, the night hushed under a canopy of stars beyond count. The rolling meadows of Middleburg, pasture land, quiet and verdant, the whinny of horses, the bleating of sheep, the low rumble of tractors in hay fields. And stillness in the night. The rocky crags of the Shetland Islands, an archipelago alone in the sea a 12 hour ferry ride north of Scotland, the land still, yet in constant motion, the wind scrubbing away at both rocks and people. The night soundscape waves crashing in bays, on beaches, against cliff and bluff. These places, and others like them, —Sherando— quiet, bucolic, calming, soothing, a place that any of us would happily take over the blare, the din, the noise, the frenzy of downtown Washington, New York City, London – any city. Cities are fast, furious, dirty, frantic. The countryside is slow, calming, peaceful, tranquil – a little bit of heaven… except, the Revelation of John tells us that our future in God’s heavenly kingdom will be decidedly urban. John tells us that we will live in the City of God, the new Jerusalem. A city – not some tranquil place above the clouds, but a city, that God will bring down that God might live there with us, with all God’s children. It will be no ordinary city of course. First: it will be enormous. John tells us it will measure 1500 miles on each side, and as long as that measurement is even for us, in John’s day, it was beyond measure, representing a city big enough for anybody, everybody.          Second: it will be open, Yes, John describes it like all cities were in John’s time: a city with walls, a city with gates; but wall-lovers take heed: in God’s city, the gates will never close, they will always be open, the welcome sign always on, a city always ready to accept more of God’s children, a constant flow in, God delighting in every addition. John tells us it will be a great cube of a city, which sounds odd – a city in the form of a cube? But as much as so many preachers love to put a literal spin on John’s words, we should not read John’s text with a “flat-footed literalism,” as the biblical scholar Bruce Metzger put it. A cube in John’s day represented perfection: the city of God will be perfection in every sense.            So, no, the streets will probably not be paved with gold. But why in heaven’s name would we care? In John’s time, a paved road was almost unheard of; roads were muddy, rocky, dusty, dirty, overgrown, difficult to walk, or drive a cart through. A paved road would be effortless. But, still, why a city? Simple: because a city requires everyone to work together in order to live together. There is no room in God’s city for rugged individualists. God created us for community; Jesus calls us to community; Paul teaches us that church is community as the body of Christ, where everyone has a role to play, a gift to share, no one more important, no one less important, everyone needed, necessary, vital, essential. “In a city, the tasks of life are divided up, and each one does his part and her part. The beauty of life is never a solo but always a symphony.” (Professor E. Boring) This is what awaits us: life eternal as urban dwellers in the perfect city of God And we get a glimpse of that life each time we gather here at our Lord’s Table, for we gather together, not individually, but in community, friends and strangers alike, all of us called here by our Lord Jesus Christ; no one given a seat of honor; all of us fed richly, all our thirsts quenched, no one getting less, no one getting more. We gather around the table in peace, reconciled to and with one another, to partake in a meal that our Lord invites us to share, and as we eat, we are all of us lifted up into our Lord’s presence, communing with all the saints. Over the centuries we’ve drawn our image of heaven more from literature than the Bible, more the Elysian Fields of Homer and Virgil, a place marked by “fresh green fields, ... a dazzling radiance, golden sands, where the blessed make their eternal home.” (The Aeneid, 741-745) But John tells us that our future is the city, the City of God, which God will bring down, down to us, that God might once again live with us. What began in a garden will culminate in a city, and God will be with us, John taking his imagery from another book in the Bible, from the book of the prophet Ezekiel, “And the name of the city from that time on shall be, The Lord is There. (Ezekiel 48:35) This is our future, a joyous future, an urban future; you, me, all God’s children, living in the City of God; you, me, all God’s children – living with God. Little wonder then that John ended his Revelation with his words of joyful expectation, “Come, Lord Jesus!” AMEN