Epiphany 3

Sermon preached by Steve Jullien, ordinand

Lockdown is full of paradoxes. On the one hand, I find myself frustrated at the excessive amount of screen time, but on the other hand, I’m also glad that the daily exercise rule gets me out of the house on walks with my dog. During the first lockdown last spring, the farm next door had a lamb. Each time, at the end of our walk, my dog and the lamb would approach each other from either side of the pen and come as close to each other as they could, eyes fixed on each other, yet they were still divided by a barrier which they could not cross. 

In lockdown, there are plenty more barriers in our own lives, blocking who we can see and what we can do, yet we have all tried to make the most out of the circumstances and do creative activities. But I wonder, when faced with some of the imagery in the book of Revelation, do we just voluntarily put a barrier up and right it off as some abstract apocalyptic literature too hard to digest? 

Whilst Revelation is assumed to be a book primarily about the end of the world, the reality is the book places Jesus right at the centre. There is a large variety of descriptions for Jesus, but with 28 mentions, the lamb is the predominant descriptor, becoming the central image to the book, more so than in other New Testament texts. 

The Lamb is less of a title and more of a symbolic metaphor for Jesus, and is used more than the traditional titles such as Son of God and Son of Man. The image of the lamb for Jesus provides coherence for what many see as disparate, even clashing images of violence and power in Revelation, which can act as barriers in approaching the text. 

However, Revelation is not just about the lamb himself, but who the lamb relates to. Indeed, the marriage feast plays a crucial part, and the words we hear this morning “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the lamb” may be more familiar to us in the context of preparing to receive Holy Communion: our central act of worship which we still celebrate, even when dispersed. 

There is no actual description of an event of the supper, so perhaps it can be considered as a supper metaphor, acting as a symbol of celebration, as was often the case in Hebrew tradition. But what are we celebrating here? 

Well, it is a marriage feast so we know that naturally there must be a bride and bridegroom: two sides of an intimate relationship. So whose relationship are we celebrating?  The bridegroom is identified as the lamb, and we hear that the “fine linen” that the bride is wearing is the “righteous deeds of the saints”. 

So, the implication is that the bride is the church, and so the feast can be seen as a future celebration of the joyful, intimate and unbreakable fellowship between Christ and the faithful. We appear to be breaking down some barriers. 

However, as with any wedding, preparation is required, and we hear that marriage of the Lamb has come.. and his bride has made herself ready 

If we, as the church, are to see ourselves as the bride of Christ, how can we make ourselves ready and remove any potential barriers to joining the feast?

Well, first and foremost, the angel who appears in our passage makes it clear that worship belongs to Jesus alone. Indeed, many of the references to the lamb in Revelation occur in life-threatening contexts which reflect a conflict over allegiances.

So, to be recognisable as guests at the banquet, we need to be firm in how we go about our actions. This involves resisting the temptation to worship other kinds of ‘God’. Although on the surface that might not appear to be a challenge in an established church worshipping one God, we have seen other ‘God like’ cults appearing in political spheres across the world. These cults are often led by people who actively seek to create barriers amongst the population. 

These cultic figures we see today who often incite or perpetrate violence, stand in marked contrast to the Lamb we are called to worship. Let’s not forget that the lamb we are called to worship tears down any barriers between us and God not by winning a physical battle, but by suffering death on the cross, and other parts of Revelation speak of how the lamb is murdered. Jesus conquers evil by violence committed against him, not by instigating violence himself. 

Perhaps in this regard, it’s best to think about Revelation as a text which uses traditional imagery to subvert violence, rather than being a text encouraging violence. The author actively seeks to redefine who we see as a leader: using the lamb image to replace  the ‘lion’ image (used only once for Jesus in Revelation 5), traditionally associated with royalty in the Ancient Near East. 

It’s likely that the author of Revelation is writing against a backdrop of persecution himself, and yet stood resolute in his conviction that it was only Jesus who was worthy of worship. We are well aware that political tyrants’ reigns come and go (thankfully), but we are being called to look forward to a future feast in the eternal reign of the lamb.

Perhaps we ought to see Revelation as resistance literature: a prophetic book advocating religious-political resistance to compromise of all sorts. There is a call to non-violent resistance, and for us today that is a calling to speak out against world injustices. If we have the confidence to do this, then bit-by-bit we will be able to see the lamb’s high feast as an extensive and open table, open for all. Barriers will fall and we can begin to build a closer relationship with Jesus. 

So, to return to the farm. Just as my dog and the lamb were focusing intently on each other in total calm, so too can we focus intently on Jesus calmly, without violence. Whereas those animals had no way of removing the barrier between them and having full contact, we have the hope of building an intimate relationship with Jesus, the true lamb, and celebrating with him, with no barriers in place. Let’s be ready for the marriage supper.