The other day I was reading a book with our two-year-old, Emmy, and that was a neat little
book.
It had pictures of places and pictures of animals and creatures, and what you had to
do with the book was to take each picture of an animal, and you had to match the animal
with the correct picture of the animal's home.
The idea being that each kind of animal has a specific home that is designed just for
that animal to meet all of its needs where it will be completely comfortable.
And as I was reading this book with her, I found myself thinking, what if this book had
a picture of a human being in it?
What would the picture of home look like?
Revelation chapters 21 and 22.
We've been in a long study of this masterful, amazing, sometimes baffling work of the Apostle
John through the inspiration of the Spirit, and at last we come to Revelation 21 and 22.
As Ellen so beautifully read, this gives us a description of a vast city.
But it's a city unlike anything we've ever seen.
It goes beyond anything we can really imagine.
It's almost the size of Australia.
It has jewel-encrusted walls that stand 1,500 miles high.
By comparison, Mount Everest is 5.5 miles high.
We can barely survive being on the summit of that mountain.
These walls stand 1,500 miles high.
It's a city far greater than anything human beings have ever produced, anything we will
ever produce.
It's beyond all imagining.
It makes New York City look like a Lego set.
But the most amazing thing about this city is that it shows us in highly symbolic language,
and if we were first century Christians steeped in Old Testament imagery, the descriptions would
make a lot more sense.
But it shows us through highly symbolic language what our true home really looks like.
In other words, this world is not our true home.
It sometimes looks like it.
It sometimes feels like it.
But it's not our true home.
The picture that we are meant to be matched with is the New Jerusalem.
And so what we're going to do is we're going to spend some time this morning looking at this
home, this true home, and trying to understand why it's so perfectly suited for us as human
beings.
Let's pray, and then we'll dive in.
Lord, we thank You for Your Word.
And every week, it's so tempting to put Your Word down on the table, on the dissecting table,
and to begin to take it apart piece by piece, to analyze it, to scrutinize it.
But Lord, we know that what we most need this morning is to be the ones on the table.
We need to sit under Your Word.
We need Your Word to analyze us, to scrutinize us, to open up our hearts, to reveal to us
those deep places where we most need light and truth and love and grace.
And as we open Your written Word, Lord, we pray that by the power of Your Spirit, we would
come face to face with Your living Word, Jesus Christ.
It's in His name that we pray.
Amen.
So, the first thing we see about this home as we look at some of the great themes of these
chapters is this.
Home is a place where creation is renewed.
All creation is renewed.
In chapter 21, verse 5, it says,
He who is seated on the throne said,
Behold, I am making all things new.
And notice He says,
Not, I am making all new things.
Right?
Which has been a very prevalent belief, especially in the evangelical church over the last century
or so.
The idea that God's going to scrap this world.
It's going to all burn up in fire.
And that God's going to make all new things.
That's not what it says.
It says, I make all things new.
Right?
In this world, all things break down.
All things decay.
It's the second law of thermodynamics, the law of entropy, which says that everything
from the most distant galaxies spiraling through space to your body as it sits here in these
pews, that everything is winding down.
Everything is breaking down.
Across the universe, order is slowly returning to chaos.
And as we wrestle with this reality that everything is slowly breaking down,
it occurs to me that if this is all there is,
if we are an accident of atoms,
and we come into existence as a conscious, sentient being for a few decades,
but we are doomed to break down and to return to dust,
if that's all there is, it seems like after all this time of being human beings on the earth,
we would have gotten used to the idea.
That we would have come to terms with our fate and our destiny.
If there's no God and no world beyond this one, we should have accepted that by now.
And you know, the atheist Richard Dawkins tries to dress this whole idea up a bit.
He tries to infuse it with some sense of beauty.
He offers a eulogy to his mentor,
and in that eulogy he describes the man's body decaying and being consumed,
and then living on as a swarm of insects buzzing through the forest.
And with this imagery, he's trying to take this old pagan myth
that you find in all the old ancient religions,
this idea of the cycle of life.
He's trying to imbue that with some sense of wonder and beauty,
trying to make it somehow comforting.
But I somehow doubt that idea would comfort a mother who's just buried her baby.
You know, I think there's something deep in the human heart
that screams defiantly in the face of death.
You know, like the poet Dylan Thomas,
you know, half drunk and full of fire,
crying out,
do not go gently into that gentle night,
but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I think in our hearts,
we know what we should believe based on what science tells us,
and yet there's something deep down that says,
no, there has to be more,
because this is wrong.
And our true home is the place where all things are made new.
Our true home is a place where entropy is reversed.
Our true home is a place where death itself is undone,
where God passes judgment on death.
It doesn't belong here anymore.
It's a place where there's no crying or mourning or pain
for the former things have passed away.
So the first question I have for you is this,
why would we rage against the dying of the light
unless we were made for a home
where the light never dies,
where life never ends,
and we have some primal memory,
deeply buried,
that that's where we belong.
So home is a place where all creation is renewed.
Another thing we see about our true home is this,
home is the place where longings are satisfied.
Longings are satisfied.
You know, I think we all have a kind of gnawing,
thirst,
a kind of restlessness,
an angst that can't be satisfied in this life.
Now if you look inside and you say,
well, I don't feel any sense of that longing or that angst,
I would suggest that that's probably because most of us,
including me,
spend most of our time anesthetized.
And we're so numb that we have no idea that longing is there.
You know, food and drink and sex and ambition
and smartphones and social media and news feeds
and shopping and vacations and busy work,
anesthesia,
all of it,
all meant to keep us comfortably numb.
But there are moments in life where you come fully awake.
Right?
There's that moment after you've finally gotten your dream job
where you begin to see behind the curtain
and you begin to realize that it's not nearly as ideal
as you thought it was going to be.
In fact,
you kind of wish you were back in your old job.
And you don't know what to do with those feelings.
You know,
and you think,
maybe I wasn't looking for a new job.
Maybe there was something deeper
that I was actually trying to satisfy.
Maybe it wasn't the job.
Maybe it wasn't the geographic cure.
Maybe it wasn't moving to a new home or a new state.
Maybe there's something deeper.
You know,
there's that,
the times that,
you know,
you've fallen for somebody
and you've given yourself to them
and you've slept with them
and then they stop returning your calls.
They stop returning your texts.
You know,
and you say,
that feeling that I had,
that this was everything.
What do I do with the fact
that I've now been abandoned?
What do I do with the fact
that I've given myself to somebody
who is gone?
And you begin to realize,
well,
maybe I wasn't,
maybe I wasn't really looking for that person.
Maybe there was something under that
that was driving me.
Maybe there was a deeper need
and I was confusing it
with my romantic desire.
There are these moments
where we begin to get,
the dimmest sense
that there is something
down deep in our hearts,
a longing
that can't be satisfied.
And you know,
some people simply refuse
to accept that.
Some people insist
on finding
all of their satisfaction
here in this world.
They insist on making this world home.
And you know,
verse 8 talks about
the cowardly
and the faithless
and the detestable
and the murderers
and we sort of wince
at this list.
It sounds somehow pejorative.
But here's what we need
to understand about this list.
These are people
who have become
nothing more
than their appetites.
Right?
The person who craved
safety above all else
and chose self-preservation
above all else,
eventually that person
has become cowardice,
incarnate.
They don't know
how to stand for anything.
They only know
how to close up
and wait out the storm.
Right?
The person who craved
revenge above all else
has eventually become
murder incarnate.
They can't escape
that deep resentment
and scorn
and anger
and it has consumed them.
And you know,
God does honor
human choice.
If we spend
our entire lives
saying,
I am nothing
without this thing
I desire.
I am nothing
without this thing
that I long for.
God will one day
say to us,
have it your way.
Spend eternity
as nothing
but that desire.
I think it helps
the image
of an unquenchable
lake of fire
make a little more sense.
The unquenchable fire
of unmet desires,
longings
that were never satisfied,
thirst
that will never be quenched.
But then there are
the people
who realize the truth
as C.S. Lewis put it,
if I find in myself
a desire
which no experience
in this world
can satisfy,
the most probable
explanation
is that I was made
for another world.
People who realize
that if we trust Jesus
with our unmet desires,
if we bring them to Him
and say,
I don't know what to do
with this,
but you do
and I trust you,
that He will one day
bring us home.
And that is the place
where all of our longings
will finally be satisfied.
You know,
we see a river
where we can come
and drink freely.
We see an image
of a great wedding celebration
where all of humanity
is united with God
like a bride to a groom.
And we're meant
to draw from this
not only with our physical
longings be satisfied,
like hunger and thirst,
but our deeper desires,
maybe even our more
painful desires,
our emotional,
psychological,
spiritual longings.
No more hunger
and thirst,
no more loneliness,
no more rejection,
no more isolation,
no more alienation.
Only the joy
of knowing
and being known,
loving and being loved
by the one who made us.
A river and a wedding,
right?
Drinking from the water of life
and drinking
from the limitless intimacy
that we were made
to experience with God
and one another.
So my second question
is this,
why would we have
unquenchable longings
that can't be satisfied
in this world
unless we were made
for another world?
Unless this is not our home,
unless there is
some other world
where we will truly
be at home.
The third thing
that we see
about our true home
is this.
Our true home
is the place
where all of our work
is fulfilled
or where all of our work
finds its fulfillment.
You know,
the Bible tells us
that all human beings
were made to work.
We were made to work.
You know,
we need to be productive
in our lives.
We need to be generative.
We need to be creating.
We need to be cultivating.
We need to be
making things happen.
And what we know
psychologically
is that if we don't do that,
that we stagnate.
And eventually,
we not only stagnate,
we die.
You have to get up
out of bed
and go do
in the world.
It's how you were made.
And yet,
our work
is also filled
with frustration
and futility.
And I don't have
to convince you of that.
You know that.
The Bible says
this is because
our world
is under a curse.
You know,
human beings
rebelled against God
and one of the
ramifications of that
is that when we go
to work,
we have to contend
with thorns
and thistles
and hard soil.
Now,
what's that all about?
What does that look like
since most of us
are not in
agricultural trades?
What does that look like?
Well,
it looks like a few things.
It looks like this.
No matter what we build,
it will always fall apart.
Right?
The greatest
ancient
architectural wonders
from past centuries
are now either
dust
or tourist traps.
And somebody else
has come along
and built something
on top.
Names of buildings
change.
Everything crumbles.
Futility also means
that we will always
be able to envision
more than we can
ever actually accomplish.
Now,
what a cruel joke
that is.
Oh,
so painful.
You know,
you think of
the Habsburg court
composer
Antonio Salieri,
painfully insecure,
knowing deep down
that his work
is only mediocre.
And then you think
of him
hearing the music
of this
no-name,
impoverished guy
named Mozart.
And in that moment,
realizing that
he will never
be able to match that.
it also means
that our work
is going to be
subject to forces
outside of our control.
You know,
you deal with a
frustrating,
impossible boss.
You have a
meaningful collaboration
with somebody
and then they
stab you in the back.
You're doing
the best you can,
your team is doing
the best they can,
your boss is doing
the best they can,
but you work
within a broken
bureaucracy.
You're a dented,
bent cog
in a gigantic,
creaky machine.
Laying it on thick.
And you realize
it's outside of your
control.
Thorns and thistles
and hard soil
mean that you will
never achieve
perfection.
You'll never
achieve perfection.
perfection.
I'm told a story
from Kaylee
on our team
in Brussels.
In the town square
there is the town hall
and the town hall
is this masterpiece
of Gothic architecture.
But as the story goes,
the architect,
upon completion
of this massive,
beautiful structure,
realized when looking
at it that the front door
was off center
of his life's work.
So he climbed
to the top
of the tower
and threw himself
off to his death.
Life was no longer
worth living.
Now, whether or not
that story is true,
apparently there's a star
on the spot
where he landed.
I don't know,
you can go check it out.
But regardless
of whether the story
is true,
the point still stands.
Our work will always
be off center.
We'll always have
to contend with that.
Perfection is not possible
in this world.
And in the face
of such futility,
I think people go
one of two directions.
People either double down
and they become workaholics.
If I try harder,
if I work longer hours,
maybe I can overcome
the futility.
I think other people
eventually check out.
They get so cynical
and so burned out
from butting up
against things
that they have
no control over
that they just
sort of check out.
And they slide
into some job
that they can do
with half their brain
turned off.
And they anesthetize
themselves and they
sort of go through life
from pleasure to pleasure,
escape to escape,
but their job
no longer has
any real meaning.
In the face
of such futility,
it's hard to imagine
continuing in a life
of work.
That is,
unless we realize
that our work
was actually made
for another world.
Right?
Verse 26,
it's this amazing reference.
A great processional
brings all of the glory
and the honor
of the nations
through the gates
of the New Jerusalem
to become a part
of the architecture
of the New Jerusalem.
This is an amazing image.
The work of human hands
and the work of God's hands
joined together as one.
All of the things
that we strive for,
all of the effort
that we put into it,
joined with God
who can overcome obstacles,
who can achieve perfection.
It's the completion
of all human endeavor.
Because in the New Jerusalem,
the curse has finally
been lifted.
We'll no longer
be able to envision
more than we can imagine.
In fact,
every day we will see
more than we ever
dreamed possible.
There's that wonderful
little story
from J.R.R. Tolkien,
Leaf by Niggle,
that I think parallels
his own life
in many ways.
Niggle is an artist
in a society
that does not
appreciate art.
I mean,
that's pretty tragic.
And he's an artist
who has this vision
of a tree
in his mind.
He's possessed
by this vision
and he's obsessed
with trying
to bring it about.
And so he spends
his whole life
trying to paint
this tree perfectly,
but distractions
take him away
and futility
thwarts him
at every turn.
And so he spends
his whole life
trying to paint
the tree
in his mind
only to die
and to have
his unfinished
painting
abandoned,
largely forgotten,
even at one point
used to patch
a leaky roof.
And then after
his death,
Niggle finds himself
in a beautiful
countryside.
And he begins
to realize
with amazement
that this
is the land
of his vision.
And then he looks
and he sees
the tree.
But this isn't
just a painting.
It's the real thing.
The question
is this,
why would we
be able to dream
such fantastic dreams
unless they
might be realized
in another world?
Maybe we're not
dreaming about
this world.
Maybe we're dreaming
about the world
that we are meant
for.
By the way,
this is the great
gift that artists
give us.
Because they,
more than anyone
else,
they,
more than anyone
else,
are able to help
us imagine
what is possible.
And you name it,
it is possible
in the New Jerusalem.
So our true home
is a place
where creation
is renewed.
It's a place
where longings
are satisfied.
It's a place
where our work
finally finds
its fulfillment,
its completion.
The glory
that we may
have desired here
is actually
meant for Him.
The fourth
and final thing
we see about
this true home
is that this
is the place
where humanity
is restored.
Our humanity.
Everyone I know
wants world peace.
Everyone I know
wants world peace.
But in spite
of the myth
of progress,
we seem no closer
to peace today
than we were
a thousand years ago.
I think our own
country feels
more politically
and racially divided
than ever.
The problem is
I think people
have said that
in every generation.
Revelation 22
verse 2
shows us
the tree of life
which sits
in the heart
of the city.
And it says
that the leaves
of this tree
are for the healing
of the nations
which is a beautiful image.
And earlier
in Revelation
we're told
that the new Jerusalem
will be a place
where people
from every tribe
and tongue
and nation
are joined together
in the worship
of Christ.
Right?
So the leaves
aren't just for the healing
of our nation
or our nation
and the nations
that we happen to like.
It's for the healing
of all of the nations
because the purpose
of the gospel
was always
to go out
to every tribe
tongue
and nation
to gather people
from every corner
of the earth
together as one.
And so the new Jerusalem
like any city
is multi-ethnic
it's multicultural
it's multilingual
but unlike any other city
all humanity
is unified.
So you have perfect unity
and perfect diversity
together.
Remember at Pentecost
that miracle
we read about
in Acts chapter 2
the birth of the church
when God pours
His Holy Spirit
out on His people
in fulfillment
of ancient promises.
And remember
what happens
when the Spirit
is poured out.
It does not say
and everyone began
speaking the same language.
Everyone became
of the same culture.
The true miracle
of Pentecost
is that everybody
hears the gospel
in their own language.
In fact
there was never a time
in the history of the church
when it was not multilingual.
There was never a time
in the history of the church
when it was not multicultural
multi-ethnic.
This has always been
the reality of God's church
and we see why.
Because God's desire
is that the greatest
most glorious
most beautiful artifacts
from all the cultures
and ethnicities
and languages
around the world
that all of that
would adorn
the new Jerusalem.
That it would all
become a part
of the glory
of our true home.
It's intentional.
The new Jerusalem
is a place
where all people
will live together
in peace.
I love Zechariah's
description of it.
He says
this will be a place
where the streets
of the city
shall be filled
with the sounds
of children playing.
If you look
at the larger reference
he says
old men and women
will sit in the streets.
You can imagine
them sitting
in benches
and talking
and you'll hear
the sounds
of children playing.
In other words
it's a great place
to grow old in.
It's a great place
to grow up in.
It's the kind of city
we all wish
we could live in.
It's our true home.
And you have
all of humanity
gathered around
the light
and the warmth
of God himself
who by the death
and resurrection
of Jesus Christ
has finally made peace
not only between humans
and himself
but also between humans
and one another.
He's made reconciliation
possible
so that he can finally
be the God
who dwells
in the midst
of his people
all of his people.
So the fourth question
is this
why would we long
for peace
unless we were made
for a world
where all humanity
lives together as one?
Right so this is
what our true home
is like.
This is a place
where creation
is renewed.
This is a place
where longings
are satisfied.
It's a place
where work
is fulfilled.
It's a place
where humanity
is restored.
And the reason
that we're saying
all this
to kind of
bring all this
home
is that the aim
of all human life
is to find
our way home.
The aim
of all human life
is to find
our way
to this city.
You know
it reminds me
of Bob Goff
who tells
this story
of himself
and a few friends
participating
in a trans-Pacific
sailing race
which is a pretty
big deal.
I'm not a sailor
but I can imagine
this would be
quite challenging.
And Goff
says that he
and his friends
were woefully
underprepared
for this undertaking
but they set out
anyway
on this trans-Pacific
race
and he says
they get lost
numerous times
they take all kinds
of twists and turns
they have to do
course correction
after course correction
he says
it's at times
brutal
and exhausting
and then they
finally make it
to port
they finally make it
home in the early
hours of the morning
and Goff
talks about
his boat
finally pulling
into the marina
they're all exhausted
and he says
that the silence
is broken
by a booming voice
over a loud speaker
it's a tradition
in this race
that whenever a boat
makes it home
no matter if it's
two or three o'clock
in the morning
that this old announcer
same guy who's been
doing it for decades
announces the boat
and announces
all of the crew members
and so they're sailing in
and this announcer
voice booms out
and it says
then he started
announcing the names
of our ragtag crew
like he was introducing
heads of state
he didn't tell everyone
we didn't know
which way was north
or about all the other
mess ups
instead he just
welcomed us in
from the adventure
like a proud father would
when he was done
there was a pause
and then in a sincere voice
his last words
to the entire crew
were these
friends
it's been a long trip
welcome home
the point is
I think that one day
for those of us
who have put our faith
in Jesus Christ
I think we're going to
have such words
spoken over us
as we enter the gates
of the new Jerusalem
and the reason I'm telling
you all of this
is so that I can ask you
this question
what is the aim
of your life
what's the aim
of your life
what is your life
aiming at
are you aiming
only at the things
of this world
are you aiming
only at this present reality
or are you aiming
beyond this world
to our true home
and I would say
that this is maybe
the most important
question of your life
are you off course
in your aim
have you lost
a sense of true north
if that's true
then now is the time
for a course correction
now is the time
to come to Jesus
and to ask
his forgiveness
and to give your life
to him
and to ask him
to set you back
on course
if you aim
only at this world
if you live like
there's nothing
beyond this world
your life is never
going to make sense
you're going to rage
against death
you're going to have
longings that you
can't satisfy
you're going to
dream dreams
that can't be fulfilled
and it's never
going to make sense
but more than that
if you aim
only at this world
and this is
counterintuitive
if you are aiming
only at this world
then you will actually
be of very little
use to this world
you won't be
very useful
the reason is simple
this world
needs people
of hope
this world
needs people
of undying
unquenchable hope
you know people
who can face
suffering
and death
with hope
people who can
bear the weight
of unmet longings
with hope
people who can work
in long
difficult
often thankless
jobs
with hope
people who can do
the hard
grueling
long term
work
of peacemaking
and bridge
building
and reconciliation
and never
lose hope
that's what
the world
needs
and it's the
promise of a
home in the
future
that gives us
hope
for this
home
in the
present
and this is
why we are
here by the way
as Church of the
Advent
this is why
we exist
because we want
to be people
of hope
in Washington
D.C.
for Washington
D.C.
we want to seek
the flourishing
of the city
we want to push
back the chaos
and the darkness
until Jesus
comes again
because we know
that when Jesus
comes again
he is the one
who will make
all things new
and then he will
wipe away
every tear
he will wipe away
every tear
and he will say
to each of us
friends
it's been a long
trip
welcome home
let's pray
Lord we desire
to be people
of hope
but not just
an earthly hope
we long
we long for
a supernatural
hope
an inexplicable
hope
we long
to drink
from the deep
well
of your gospel
that it might
fill us with
joy and hope
and faith
despite our
circumstances
promises
and we pray
that this
hope
sourced in
you
would not
just be for
us
but that it
would be a
blessing to
the city
that it would
be a blessing
to our
neighbors
that it would
be a blessing
to our
families
that it would
be a blessing
to the places
where we work
that it would
be a blessing
to all of those
we come in
contact with
that this would
be a place
that is a
wellspring
of hope
because we
have our eyes
fixed on our
true home
we pray this
not only for
our good
or the good
of this city
but because
it will glorify
you
because one
day the
greatest
accomplishments
in Washington
D.C.
will pale
in comparison
to the walls
of that city
and all of the
glory that we
might try to
grab up here
will all be
given to you
and it's in that
desire in the
name of your
son Jesus
Christ that we
pray amen
God bless you