If they'd been watching
carefully down below, they should have been nervous. Because it was
Saturday now. It was the day the invaders had been waiting for.
Down on the plain, around the city, for the entire week, they'd been
doing the same thing. Each day, they'd done it. Joshua had heard it
from his Commander, and he'd relayed it to those he led. A
procession, marching, orbiting the city. Stamping down the ground.
At the head of the procession, the sacred box, hefted by the Levites
on long poles. Joshua was one of the only ones still living and able
to remember watching that box get made. It was in the months after
the fire had descended on the mount, with “thunders and
lightnings … and a very loud trumpet blast”
(Exodus 19:16). It was up there that Joshua's mentor had been told
what this box should be: a chest of acacia wood overlaid with gold,
with gold rings for the poles, and then covered by a gold lid called
a 'mercy seat' and overshadowed by cherubim. Inside would be the
testimony, the tablets of stone recording the covenant of King Yahweh
with his priestly kingdom Israel; and the Great King would treat the
box like a throne, speaking and commanding from above it (Exodus
25:10-22). The box – the Ark of the Covenant – had been carried
before Israel at the vanguard of their movements through the desert
(Numbers 10:33) and in crossing the river Jordan (Joshua 3:3). Now
it went before the Army of Israel, heralded by seven priests with
seven shofar-trumpets,
blasting them thunderously and furiously each weekday.
But
now the week was up. The seven-day entry ritual, frighteningly
familiar to the locals, was being completed. It was still by the dim
light of the sabbath's early dawn, the rays of the sun peering over
the eastern horizon, just scarcely glinting off the gold. It was
early, awfully early, earlier than they'd done it the other days.
Now, to recap the cycle, the seven priests led the ark which led the
army seven times around the hilltop city – an early start, but a
profound delay. As they circled, Joshua instructed his soldiers what
to do. And as they finished their seventh revolution, the seven
priests blasted their seventh trumpets on that seventh day on their
seventh march, and the army let forth a great war-cry, a loud shout.
And the hand of the Lord God Almighty toppled the firm walls of
Jericho atop themselves, and the warriors of Israel ran straight up
into the city and took it (Joshua 6:1-20). Seven priests blew seven
trumpets, the Ark of the Covenant was shown, and once the seventh
trumpet sounded, the warriors made a great shout, the defenses of the
city fell, they rushed in, and they took the land of promise. On
that day, the kingdoms of Canaan began to become the kingdom of the
LORD
and his Israel.
Throughout
the years, the Ark of the Covenant was to be treated with great
respect. That gold-covered wooden box, built according to God's
design and carrying his covenant with them, was the physical symbol
of his own presence on earth. When it traveled to the lands of the
Philistines, it shattered an idol and forced the idol to bow down to
it (1 Samuel 5:1-4); then, when it returned to Israel, those who
looked inside it were struck down by divine judgment (1 Samuel 6:19).
For touching the ark with his bare hand, Uzzah died (2 Samuel 6:6),
but when Obed-edom showed hospitality to the ark, God blessed him
abundantly the whole time (2 Samuel 6:12). In time, David brought
the ark to a tent on Mount Zion, and he established a daily temple
liturgy there. In honor of what God had done through his ark at
Jericho, David named seven priests to “blow the trumpets
before the ark of God” each
and every day (1 Chronicles 15:24). No doubt that continued when
Solomon built a house for the ark and had it installed in the
innermost sanctuary, the Holy of Holies (1 Kings 8:1-8).
And
so the ark was hidden away – most of the time, it was to be
screened off, out of view from all but the high priest (Exodus 40:21;
Leviticus 16:2). But during the lifetime of Jeremiah, something
happened. People began to lament that the ark was missing. Maybe
that started before the Babylonian invasion, maybe it took place in
the destruction afterward. Jeremiah told them not to worry – that
when they would prosper in the land, they would still have God's
presence even without the ark (Jeremiah 3:16-17). The ark was
missing. Historically, it seems likely the ark was destroyed.
Decades later, when Nehemiah dedicated the new wall of Jerusalem, he
had no ark to call for, but still he sent seven priests “with
trumpets,” not to topple a
wall but to bless one (Nehemiah 12:41). Like Jeremiah said, they
came back to the land and had no ark. But over the years, even
before Jesus took up the cross, a legend had emerged. And in one
version of the legend, Jeremiah had smuggled the ark out of the
temple and had taken it to the desert where Israel wandered those
forty years, and there he had locked it away in a cave, to be hidden
until it would be revealed again in the end times (2 Maccabees 2:4-8;
Lives of the Prophets
2.11-19; 4 Baruch
3:9-11). In another version of the legend, the ark gets buried by an
angel “until the last times” when it would be “restored” (2
Baruch 6:4-9). In the legend,
there was an expectation that the ark would emerge in the end, be
seen like in the days of Joshua, “and all the saints will be
gathered to it there as they await the Lord and flee from the enemy
who wishes to destroy them” (Lives of the Prophets
2.15), a time when “God gathers his people together again and shows
them mercy” (2 Maccabees 2:7).
It's
in light of that legend and its expectation that John is about to see
a vision featuring the Ark of the Covenant – that's how he knows
he's seeing the last times. For we read, “God's temple
in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant was seen within his
temple. There were flashes of lightning, sounds, peals of thunder,
an earthquake, and heavy hail”
(Revelation 11:18-19). And having grown up in Judaea, John would
know what he heard from an early age: that if the ark were seen
again, it's where the saints would gather, it's where God would show
them mercy. It's where they'd run to and be safe.
And
now the heavenly temple of God flings open – and you'd expect there
to be a thick curtain or veil between the ark and the temple doors.
But there isn't. Because when Jesus died, it tore the temple veil,
did away with the screen, granted open visibility and access to the
Holy of Holies for all who'd pass through the torn and broken flesh
of a crucified and dying Lord (Mark 15:38). So there is no veil
screening the ark off from John's eyes in the heavenly temple. When
the doors open, there is no obstruction between John's sight and the
seat of all mercy. God's intense presence, the same presence that
came with such fire on the mountain and made the Israelites too
afraid to listen or see (Hebrews 12:18-20) – that very intense
presence of God will be visible, completely visible, manifest before
our eyes. There's no more veil, no more screen, no more separation.
With
John, we peer through the open doors and see the sign of mercy and
grace. For once the engraved words of God were on earth to be
enclosed inside a box of wood and gold. But now the eternal Word of
God is wrapped in the flesh and bone of human nature, and is our true
mercy-seat in heaven, where atonement for our sins has been made
once-and-for-all! When we see with John, we know that great mercy is
standing for us right there, for under the symbol of the Ark of the
Covenant, John beholds the mercy of God's presence, awesome yet
welcoming, that draws us together from our different paths of life
and bids us converge in one place and praise the Lord in the splendor
of his holiness and find refuge in Jesus.
If
that were all John saw, it would be enough to satisfy. John sees the
mercy of God laid open wide, welcoming his saints to gather in where
once they couldn't. He sees the presence of God in power to protect
and defend us. He sees the last times when everything once taken
will be given back to us. He sees our access unobstructed.
But
John sees more. Because he sees the ark in a very specific context.
Throughout Revelation, God shows the same thing, over and over again,
from different angles: strings of judgments that lead up to their
completion. It was presented to us with the seven seals. It was
presented to us with the seven bowls. But here, in this passage,
we're at the end of another string of seven: the seven trumpets. We
saw it open back in chapter 8, with “the seven angels who
stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them”
(Revelation 8:2). Then “the seven angels who had the
seven trumpets prepared to blow them”
(Revelation 8:6). And stretched out over the next few chapters of
text, we hear the trumpets go off, one by one. After the first four
trumpets, John hears an eagle yelling, “Woe, woe, woe to
those who dwell on the earth, at the blasts of the other trumpets
that the three angels are about to blow”
(Revelation 8:13). Chapter 9 takes up the fifth and sixth trumpets,
then we have an interlude until today's passage at the end of chapter
11. For today's passage began by telling us that “the
seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven”
(Revelation 11:15).
What
we ought to recognize is this: When John draws together seven angels
blowing seven trumpets, with the ark of the covenant in the picture,
and then the seventh trumpet is followed by loud voices, he's taking
us back to a familiar story. John is taking us back to Jericho!
Because there, the seven priests blew their seven trumpets in front
of the ark of the covenant, and then the seventh trumpet blast was
followed by loud voices – and that's when Jericho fell. John is
seeing and passing along to us a picture of the new 'Battle of
Jericho' that finishes off human history as we know it. Only the
whole earth, the entirety of human civilization in all its diverse
forms and fashions, make up the new stand-in for the city of Jericho.
And once again, as the trumpets begin sounding, God is circling the
city of earth, with the army of the church in his wake. The promise
we have is that the last trumpet will blow. The great thanksgiving
liturgy of history will wrap up. Our orbit of a fallen world will
give way to a victory shout. And the defenses of the world will fall
to God's invasion. Jericho is falling, the saints are about to begin
inheriting their promised land, when the kingdom of the world gives
way to the kingdom of the Lord God Almighty and of his Anointed One,
his Messiah, his Christ named Jesus.
Looking
back, the divine council – the twenty-four ancient priest-kings of
heaven – look back and comment on God's great victory (Revelation
11:16), once the Lord God Almighty has “taken [his] great
power and begun to reign”
(Revelation 11:17). Looking back on human history, here's how they
summarize it in just a couple of words, a couple words to encapsulate
the age we live in: “The nations raged”
(Revelation 11:18). That's it. It can be said that simply: “The
nations raged,” or, “the nations were enraged.” Irritated.
Provoked. Stirred up and noisy about it. And all you have to do is
open a newspaper – or, for some of us, check our social media –
and no description has ever made so much sense. Check the news,
check social media, take the pulse of the United States and the pulse
of the United Nations, and it can all be summed up by saying that the
nations raged. What is modern American culture, if not an outrage
machine? People are mad about everything. People rage – we
struggle to trust each other, we draw partisan boundaries, we
condemn, we get furious. The Chicago Tribune
had a headline telling us “outrage culture is out of control.”
The Huffington Post
had a headline telling us “outrage culture kills important
conversation.” The Los Angeles Times
ran an editorial lamenting, “Outrage culture is out of control.”
It's not limited to one side of the political aisle. There's plenty
of rage to go around. As a nation, we have become outrage addicts.
We watch the news, not just to gain information, but to find more
pretext for the rage we feel deep inside. We've come to feed off of
it. We want to make a lot of noise about it.
But
the whole of human history can be summed up in those words: “The
nations raged.” Most
specifically, the nations have raged against God. The diverse
nations of the earth have, for the most part, been a united kingdom
of anti-God, anti-Christ rage, to one degree or another. Centuries
before Jesus died for us, the psalmist heard all about it. In Psalm
2, he asks, “Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot
in vain? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take
counsel together, against the LORD
and his Anointed One, saying, 'Let us burst their bonds apart and
cast away their cords from us'”
(Psalm 2:1-3). The nations rage as a way to try to escape the
jurisdiction, the power, of God and his Anointed King, God and his
Messiah. Earthly nations have a natural tendency to resist a power
above that of the state, a power that isn't merely a shadowy
self-projection against the sky, a power that can sit in judgment
over what we here below do. A great deal of what happens in the
world today boils down to the nations of the earth trying to 'burst
their bonds' and 'cast
away their cords.' The news is
filled with violence and death, with sexual abuse and reckoning, with
political heat and mockery, with racial hatreds and preening
self-righteousness. And that's just the domestic news from our own
country, not counting yet the corruption and the bombings and the
chaos and the surveillance states and the prison camps of the world.
But all of it, foreign and domestic, amounts to nations striving to
cast away God's cords – to say, “We will not live by your love,
we will stew in our own rage first. We will not bow to your power,
we will make a name for ourselves. We know how to run our lives.
Set us free of these bonds.” So the nations say.
For
that reason, when the church is on track – as we sadly often aren't
– and points to God and his Messiah as the Giver of healing and the
Guide for living, the nations are often indignant. With our frequent
hypocrisy as a pretext, they dismiss the possibility that God has
wisdom and a right to rule. And so the rage they feel for him, they
may hurl at us. By and large, the world does not think well of me
and you, because we love Jesus and seek to follow him. That's not as
new as we imagine. In all my study of American history, there has
seldom been an age when I've found preachers not
objecting to the immorality, the hypocrisy, the rage, the
viciousness, the anti-Christian hearts of large segments of American
society. When the psalmist writes that the nations conspire to cast
away God's cords, well, seldom in history has any nation not chafed
against those bonds. The United States of America was never quite as
loyal to Jesus as some of us would like to believe. It was not like
the mantras we repeat. It was not what we tell ourselves. Now we
also see the emergence of a self-consciously post-Christian society,
in which many are beginning to doubt that religious liberty – for
Christians, at least – is even a real right at all. With that is
sure to come the increased focus of outrage culture against faithful
Jesus-followers.
All
that seems dark. But it's good to read on in the psalm and realize
that God does not seem terribly concerned about what the nations are
up to. “He
who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision”
(Psalm 2:4). God, with Jesus at his right hand, laughs in the face
of our agitated conspiracies against him. He laughs in the face of
our outrage. He doesn't apologize, doesn't bend, doesn't slink back
to some distant corner. He dubs it absurd when we decry him and
stumble along our own way. His providence scoffs, trips up, makes
sport of our ridiculous schemes. Nations like ours may well strive
to inaugurate a new age beyond the orthodoxies of the past, but all
our outrage and all our bull-headedness only digs us deeper into a
pit. And one day, God tells us he'll offer a decisive answer to the
nations. The psalmist says, “Then
he will speak to them in his wrath and terrify them in his fury”
(Psalm 2:5). The twenty-four elders in heaven pick that up when they
call out, “The
nations raged, but
your wrath came”
(Revelation 11:18). God judges our rage by rage, helping us to a
dose of our own medicine, because it's the path we've chosen. No,
America is not exempt. “The USA raged, but...”
But
you know what's next. The elders call out to God, “You
have taken your great power and begun to reign”
(Revelation 11:17). And just so, the heavenly war-cry after the
seventh trumpet shouted out the news, “The
kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his
Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever”
(Revelation 11:15). Those words should be familiar to you, if you
like good classical music. They're the heart of the famed Hallelujah
Chorus from Handel's Messiah:
“The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of
his Christ, and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever!”
That's what one of the greatest pieces of music ever written is
celebrating at its core, and the line comes from right here. What it
means is that our “Lord
and his Anointed One,”
the Father and his Son, will take over, take charge. Jesus, the
Incorruptible One, will exercise his absolute power.
The
devil once tried to tempt Jesus by offering him, in a cheap and
ungodly way, “all
the kingdoms of the world and their glory”
(Matthew 4:8). Jesus did not take it by a sleazy bargain. But Jesus
will take it by his righteous judgment. He will hold “all
the kingdoms of the world and their glory,”
whether the nations like it or not. He will be King of Kings and
Lord of Lords, with or without the consent of lesser kings and lesser
lords. All of the nations, the united dominion of earthly power,
'the kingdom of
the world,'
will be handed over in an instant to the direct governance of Jesus
Christ, our Savior and Lord. That includes America. No, we will not
'take the country back for God.' What John is hearing does not come
through our efforts. We may hope for a revival, but there will be no
godly uprising. Governance over outraged nations like ours will come
into the hands of Jesus, not through the decisions we make or the
works we achieve – for our efforts have often done as much bad as
good – but through his own victory at the day of his appearing.
What would it look like for 'the
kingdom of the world,'
including the United States of America, to become 'the
kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ'?
What will it be like for Jesus to move into the Oval Office and the
Capitol Building and the Pentagon? What would it change, as he
quells our rage? Every unjust law on the books to melt away, every
corrupt deal to come undone, every gun and knife to become a
plowshare, every mouth to find its plenty, every stranger to gain a
shelter and a friend, every temper to be doused with the cooling
waters of his gracious love? Can you dream for the day?
Because
some day, that will happen. America, no more or less than any other
nation, will become the kingdom of God and Jesus. He will be
unveiled as President of Presidents. He will grab the controls out
of the hands of those who misuse them so badly in our generation.
“The
government shall be upon his shoulder”
(Isaiah 9:6). And when that happens, all of heaven will celebrate.
What happens here is important there. And when that day comes, the
Lord's Prayer can never be prayed again. Because there will be
nothing in it to pray for. The Lord's Prayer will become past tense:
“Our Father, who art here with us, your name is now hallowed, your
kingdom has come, your will is being done on earth as it was in
heaven; you gave us daily bread through all our days, our debts are
wiped clean forever and forgiven, there's no more temptation, for
evil has been destroyed and we have been delivered, so thine is the
kingdom and the power and the glory now and eternally, hallelujah,
amen!”
What
a beautiful day that will be! As we listen to the chant of the
twenty-four elders, their song explains to us three more things
scheduled to happen when the Lord God Almighty takes his great power
and begins to reign. First, we hear, it will be “the
time for the dead to be judged.”
All who have died, all who have been laid to rest beneath the
topsoil, will come up to present themselves for God's final
evaluation. A certain segment of our church property will be
exceptionally active on that day. The tombstones will get commas.
But John will hear more about it in Revelation 20, and we'll hear
more about that on October 20, so we'll move on this morning.
Second,
it will be “the
time … for destroying the destroyers of the earth.” The
elders are quoting from the word of God given to Jeremiah, that
prophet with the last word on the ark. Through Jeremiah, God said
he'd “repay
Babylon … for all the evil that they have done in Zion”
(Jeremiah 51:24). And the Lord announced to Babylon, “Behold,
I am against you, O destroying mountain … which destroys the whole
earth; I will stretch out my hand against you, and roll you down from
the crags, and make you a burnt mountain”
(Jeremiah 51:25). So here, the twenty-four elders of the future look
back and say that God did just that – he destroyed those who
'destroyed the earth' with their corruption, with their pollution,
with their greed and deceit and violence. Those who lived by
destruction, those who hurt others and God's creation, will chug
their own medicine and be rolled down from their lofty heights.
Their sins will be judged, and when they cling to their sin all life
long, they'll cling to their sin as it sinks in flames. Destruction
will be “a
burnt mountain.”
Those who cling to their destructive deeds will be destroyed with
them. When we look around our country and world and behold havoc and
destruction in action, we understand why all heaven celebrates the
hope of destruction's destruction and death's death.
But
third, it will be “the
time … for rewarding.”
Who will be rewarded? All those who respect God, who love God, who
revere and serve and celebrate and cling to God through Jesus Christ.
We followers of the Lamb – if we belong to Jesus, this is our
line. Heaven calls us “those
who fear [God's] name”
– It isn't ourselves that we should be impressed with, it's with
the Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Heaven recognizes us by how we
treat God's very name with respect, how we cherish his reputation,
how we respond to God with awe and respect and devotion, how we'd
rather make his name great than receive the glory ourselves. Heaven
also calls us “[God's]
servants”
– It isn't our own will that we do, it's God's will that we aim to
accomplish. He sets the agenda, and we implement it. He writes the
script, and we perform it. He gives the order, and we follow it. We
are not our own; we have been bought with a price (1 Corinthians
6:19-20). Heaven even calls us “prophets”
– spokesmen and spokeswomen who testify that Jesus is good news in
every area of life, because we've experienced him and can attest that
truth personally, and we've been sent into the world to do exactly
that. We are “witnesses”
sent to “prophesy”
(Revelation 11:3), “for
the testimony of Jesus is
the spirit of prophecy”
(Revelation 19:10). We do that when we speak good news in God's
name, and our good news is Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! Lastly, heaven calls
us “saints”
– holy ones, striving for purity over every obstacle, clinging to
grace, set apart by Jesus as different from neighbors who don't know
him yet, set apart as different from the nations' outrage culture.
It
may be hard to recognize ourselves in that. But it's who we must be,
who we've been called to be. It's how heaven will see us, if we live
it out in Christ. And this beautiful picture isn't only available to
Christian bigwigs – it's not for Christian celebrities, the ones
with the TV shows and the book deals and the record label contracts.
It isn't just for the fellow behind the pulpit or the voice on the
radio. There is reward waiting for “those
who fear your name, both small and great,”
the elders tell us (Revelation 11:18). They heard from a psalm that
God “will
bless those who fear Yahweh, both the small and the great”
(Psalm 115:13). If ever you feel isolated or insignificant, if ever
you feel locked in and bogged down by routine, if ever you wonder
what possibilities are open to you: there's reward for you just by
being faithful here where you're planted, in your own neighborhood.
All
this will take place when the seventh trumpet caps off what we've
known. The trumpets that topple the wall of the world are the
liturgy of our thanksgiving and the dawn of a never-ending jubilee!
When that day comes, then with a shout we'll at last enter our final
promised land, a world being made new around us. And we will take
possession of an inheritance we scarcely can dream. For in the days
of Jericho, a man named Yehoshua led the conquest of the promised
land – our Bibles translate his name 'Joshua' – but we're told
that “Joshua
[did not] give them rest”
with that conquest (Hebrews 4:8). “So
then, there remains a sabbath rest for the people of God”
(Hebrews 4:9). And we must get it from our own Joshua, our own
Yehoshua. For while the name in Hebrew is 'Yehoshua,' in Greek the
name 'Yehoshua' or 'Joshua' is... 'Jesus.' And when the walls of the
world fall, our far, far greater Yehoshua, the Messiah, will lead us
– will lead me and lead you, if you follow him too – into the
land of our inheritance and our great reward! So “we
give thanks to [the] Lord God Almighty”
for the great works he will do and the world he's preparing and the
rewards he has in mind for us there – Hallelujah!
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