Sixth Sunday of Easter, rcl yr c, 2022
ACTS 16:9-15; PSALM 67; REVELATION 21:10, 22-22:5; JOHN 14:23-29
the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God
I’m going to talk about the breadth of salvation today—that is, you and me made well; the politics of the world made well, that is, all of us together made well; and the cosmos made well, as well. And I’m not even going to mention John’s Gospel, or David Ford’s extraordinary commentary on John (the one that I think you should read).
So first thing: you and me, made well. In Acts, Luke is describing Paul’s missionary journey—Luke and Paul are setting sail to Macedonia, and land in Philippi, where they meet “A certain woman named Lydia, a worshipper of God.” This is how Luke describes what happens: “The Lord opened [Lydia’s] heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul.” And soon after, Lydia, and her whole household, was baptized.
Personal salvation isn’t something we talk too much about as Anglicans, or about “accepting Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour,” but here it is. “The Lord opened [Lydia’s] heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul.”
Paul probably said, as he preached to Lydia, something like “you are searching for God; you are trying hard to make yourself worthy of God, or perhaps worthy to someone or something else: you want to be a perfect colleague at work, a perfect parent, or just plain perfect. That’s a fool’s errand. Sin is stronger than your own efforts will ever be.
Besides, you have already been made perfect in Christ, by what God in Christ has already accomplished for you on the cross. And this is a pure gift, and not one that you earn. It is already given to you in Jesus, and so, rejoice!”
Ok, so that’s not perfectly Pauline. But it’s close, and more importantly, it’s true. Jesus is your Lord and saviour. And mine. And our salvation is already accomplished no matter what we do or don’t do. And by that same graceful offering from God our loves and desires are purified, and we increasingly experience the fruit if that salvation in our daily lives. And I would wager that even when the worst preacher preaches grace, The Lord opens hearts just like he did Lydia’s. (And like good Anglicans none of us would ever tell another soul if such a strange and wonderful thing did happen to us. This is a bad habit, by the way …)
There is much more to salvation in Christ than what happens in our hearts, however, and we hear of it in the Psalm and in Revelation. In these two passages we read of the salvation of the nations. “Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you judge the peoples with equity and guide all the nations upon earth,” sings the Psalmist.
Revelation is even more specific about the way God heals the nations of the earth. First, John the Seer writes that the nations walk by the light of Jesus the lamb of God in the New Jerusalem—the vision of a New Jerusalem being a vision of life in God’s perfect future. It’s a vision of what appears to be a post-colonial political settlement: the kings do not bring tribute from their lands, the way the treasures of the colonies once made their way to England and France, or the way wealth currently finds its way to the North Atlantic countries like Canada and the US. Rather the glory and honour of the nations is brought freely to the New Jerusalem. And the wealth of water flows freely in this vision of God’s future, in a river on whose banks grow the trees whose leaves are the healing of the nations.
Altogether, this vision of the New Jerusalem, this vision of God’s perfected politics, is a vision of peace, of wealth shared, and the recognition that it is not only individuals who are saved and healed in Christ, but the nations are healed and made well too. The salvation of God in Christ is far bigger than just me, and just you: it transforms, through healing, the relationships among and between nations, orienting them not to wealth, but to the throne of God and to the Lamb.
And finally, the salvation of God in Christ is not limited to the nations of the earth. Indeed it’s like there is no limit to the salvation of God in Christ—the salvation of God in Christ is cosmic. “The holy city Jerusalem comes down out of heaven from God,” we read in Revelation 21. This is more a gesture towards cosmic salvation, than it is a full-throated proclamation of it. But we would only have to look elsewhere in this same chapter of Revelation to hear John the Seer speak of a vision of “a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.” “‘See, I am making all things new,’” says the one seated on the throne.
Salvation in Christ is not limited to human beings, whether as individuals or as nations. The whole of heaven, and the whole of the earth, is remade in Christ, reoriented to the good of God, and released from its subjection to decay. In God’s future, the heavens and the earth are healed and made well.
This is one way that we learn how to orient ourselves, and our politics, and our understanding of the cosmos: we make decisions that orient us according to the promises made in Christ about a cosmos that is free of death, and a politics that is oriented to the healing and the peace of the lamb upon the throne.
And we do so as persons, which is extraordinary; this Lord, this God, this Lamb upon the throne, whose concern is the remaking of the heavens and the earth, whose concern is the healing of the nations of the world, would also speak to us, as God does to Lydia: the Lord opening her heart to the grace of God, the gift of God given for the sake of the whole world, given for the sake of the whole cosmos, given for the healing of the nations.
This same gift of grace finds a place in our hearts, in the good news of God in Christ: that God has already made you well and whole, and has reoriented you to himself in the ongoing sanctification of your loves and desires, in Jesus Christ the Lord, on whose cross all people and all things are drawn to him: the Lamb upon the throne.