the Revelation to John 22: 12-21
Lauren J. McFeaters
July 30, 2023
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I grew up at the Beverly Heights United Presbyterian Church. It’s in Mt. Lebanon, a suburb of Pittsburgh. And in 8th grade I went through Confirmation. For some reason the Session of the church thought it would be a good idea to use the Book of Revelation as that year’s Confirmation Curriculum: 8th graders would prepare for church membership by studying the Book of Revelation.
It was a mistake.
Rather than have the Confirmands dive into Revelation as scripture that can inspire; a witness to the justice of God – the teaching team decided that for nine months we would focus on the bizarre and the menace of Revelation. All this to 13 year olds who were preparing to Confirm their Baptism on Easter morning. This is the 1970s. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Apollo 11 were over this shoulder, and Viet Nam is almost over that. We were 13 years old and the only thing that made sense was that Roberto Clemente was the greatest baseball player who ever lived.
Sunday morning church school classes took us through every possible image, enigma, and secret message Revelation can throw at you. It looked like Satan was trying to abduct our souls through music and movies. One week we were given a list of all the musicians and songs considered to be a malevolent force for youth.
I’m going to completely date myself here, but I remember, when I saw the list, most of the banned music I knew by heart; as did my friends. Top of the list was the Bee Gees and everything from “Saturday Night Fever.”
I know every generation has a conversation about the efficacy of popular music. The waltz was first considered to be an abomination of impropriety. Just ask Jane Austen.
My church’s fear was bone deep. How to protect children in a world gone mad was the guiding question. And the Book of Revelation was the place to begin. They believed if they could keep us scared, they could keep us safe. Sound familiar? If they can keep us scared; they can keep us safe.
Let’s pause for a Revelation refresher and a corrective: We can forget about trying to decode Revelation. It can’t be done. We can’t possibly know if this particular seal means a future calamity; a winged creature and a two-edged sword signifies disaster in a particular part of the world; a sea beast with 100 crowns indicates an impending catastrophe.
As I mentioned two weeks ago, the decoding of John’s book has become part of the Armageddon Industry. Many churches continue to be caught up in it. There’s the old Left Behind series, the End of Time gaming apps, Doomsday publishers, all modern day marketing, playing on fear, worry, and panic and using The Revelation to John as a time table for the rapture – the very end of the world.
The word “rapture” never appears in the Bible. It’s all to make a buck on the backs of people’s anxiety and distress. And every bit of it can be left behind.
And why? Because The Book of Revelation is a letter written by the theologian, John of Patmos, to churches experiencing unimaginable persecution, torture, torment, and tyranny. And here’s the thing: John’s book is nothing to be afraid of because it is first and foremost, a book of comfort and hope for the suffering, not a punishment for despair.[i]
Revelation is first and foremost a proclamation, not a prediction.
It’s poetry, not blank verse.
It’s lyrical, not discordant.
It’s chocked full of meaning, not the destruction of meaning.
Can you hear it? Can you sing it?
Here I am! I stand at the door and knock.
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth!
For the first heaven had passed away
and the sea was no more.
And God will wipe every tear from their eyes.
There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain,
for the old order of things has passed away.
And here I am. Jesus your Lord!
The Bright Morning Star.”
Come, there’s a gift: Come, take the water of life.
Come, Lord Jesus!
It’s a Riff upon a Groove. A Jam upon a Refrain.
This is no dirge or indictment.
This is a Song of Life. An Anthem to Hope.
Brian Blount says, like rap, Revelation is a blend of memorial music and unruly rhetoric. And it never, ever gives up hope. God’s purpose rings out compellingly singing: “You O Lord are worthy.” [ii]
The entire book: the blues and spirituals; the gospel and rap; the Revelation Hymns are all fighting music.[iii] Fighting for courage and fairness; optimism, and encouragement.
The Book of Revelation contains seven letters, written to seven churches suffering the worst of abuse, and they offer us hope in some of the most beautiful music of the Bible.
There are nine hymns imbedded in the Book. They are antiphonal; call and response. Musical exchanges happen between angels, cherubim, elders of the church, even the voices of those who have died, cascade down to earth, and rise back up to the heavens, in joyful celebration of grace.[iv]
And it is in this final Epilogue & Benediction, we hear the Finale, strands of both harmony and discord, proclaiming, when all is said and done; after all the uproar, and suffering, and sorrow; after all the racket, and chaos, and drama human beings can make, it is singing that will endure. For John, ordinary everyday language cannot meet the deep need of our suffering.[v] A new song is born and his name Bright Morning Star.
I loved the church of my childhood. I still do, but they missed a wonderful opportunity. In their fear and panic they only saw words printed on paper. They forgot to listen to the text. They failed to listen to the hymns, to enjoy the songs. They forgot that singing brings the healing. Singing brings the balm to the fear.
In the bleakest of days, John fills the church with audacity and confidence. His hymn becomes an anthem for an Easter people living in a Good Friday world. And that’s quite a song.
Thanks be to God.
Lauren J. McFeaters
Nassau Presbyterian Church
Princeton, New Jersey
July 30, 2023
[i] Thanks to Susan W. Thompson for this reference from a class taught at Princeton Theological Seminary by Bruce M. Metzger.
[ii] Brian K. Blount. Can I Get a Witness: Reading Revelation through African American Culture. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 102-107, 2005.
[iii] Blount, 117.
[iv] Blount, 103.
[v] Thanks to Tara Woodard-Lehman for this image.
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