On "Thrones" and other Problems with Worship (Why Worship Remains Central To Our Lives, Part 2)

Revelation 5:11-14

I wish we had time for each of you to share you morning routine.  What did you do this morning to get ready to come here?  What time did you get up?  What did you do first?  Did you shower?  What did you have for breakfast?  How did you decide what to wear?  And in the midst of that routine, what was it that you were expecting to happen when you got here?

 

You may be thinking, “Jared you’re really over-analyzing this whole thing.  My morning routine and my arrival here aren’t all that interesting.”  That may be true.  But that’s my point really.  This practice of gathering for worship feels quite routine and non-spectacular.  It feels like something we’ve done many times before and will do many times again. No earthquakes.  No mystic visions.  Nothing miraculous.  Often gathering for worship feels rather flat and uninteresting.

Our reading today suggests that something larger is going on than meets the eye.  It suggests that what we’re doing when we gather here is quite exotic.  Strange.  Imaginative.  Creative.  Bold.  Mysterious.

So there is a gap between the ordinariness and casualness that we feel as we gather here to worship God, and the dramatic queerness of the scene described in Revelation 5. 

My hope and prayer is that these readings from Revelation (during May) will provide us with opportunities to renew our sense of worship, to reinvest our lives with the large and lively expectation that something holy is at stake when we gather.  Our Scripture reading recounts a vision of countless angels - together with every creature imaginable - circling around God's throne and giving full voice to the worthiness of the enthroned God and to the Lamb who was slain.  All of reality becomes a choir of praise.

I'd like for us to muster some honesty to talk about whether we can see ourselves as part of that choir.  Is the image here of a "throne" a helpful image for us as we seek to render God praise?  Is it believable that all of created reality resounds with God's praise?  Are we persuaded that we ourselves are creatures built to praise God both now and forever?

[Pause here for comments, questions].

Let me lay out three problems this passage raises for us.  Then I want to hear from you.  I want to hear what’s going on in you as you reflect on this passage and as you reflect on our own practices of worship.

The first problem involves the symbol of a “throne.”  This is an important symbol in The Revelation.  To poor, struggling, followers of Jesus in the Roman Empire at the end of the first century, this throne symbol depicted their conviction that God rules. God reigns.  God is enthroned as the powerful Lord (or sovereign or monarch) of creation.  And Jesus’ resurrection from the dead – as the Lamb who was slain – places him in front of the throne as God’s co-ruler.

We might want to talk about that symbol, and whether it inspires our worship in the same way.  Our rulers don’t sit on “thrones” anymore, and so I wonder if we’ve lost touch with that particular symbol.  (The smash hit “Game of Thrones” is set in an ancient, mythic past.)  But even beyond that symbol, isn’t it difficult for us to imagine that “God reigns” when there is still so much wrong in the world? 

The second problem concerns the suggestion that every creature is part of God’s choir.  Is it really true that all of reality plays its part in singing God’s praise?  Is the world all around us abuzz with full-throated songs of God’s worth and honor?

In the vision recounted in today’s reading, the first image is of countless angels, all singing God’s praise.  But then the vision shifts, focusing on the noisy praise that comes from “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them” (v. 13).

That is a fairly exotic vision.  It requires more than a good bit of imagination.  So, is this really how we see our lives and the reality in which we live?

The third problem involves these weird creatures.  I am glossing over, for the moment, the ten thousand upon ten thousand angels.  I am glossing over, for the moment, these “twenty four elders,” whom we presume to represent the twelve tribes of Israel plus the twelve apostles of Jesus.  I want to focus on the utter weirdness of the “living creatures” mentioned in verse 11.

What we read this morning is part of a longer vision.  And so we have to back up to 4:6-8 to find these creatures described.  These are creatures built exclusively for praise.  They are not gods.  They are creatures.  But they resemble no creatures we’ve ever seen.  They exist as some sub-species of angels.  And yet their appearance seems to suggest that they are representative of all other creatures.

In addition to being downright bizarre, these creatures raise the fascinating question whether we too might be creatures built for praise.

You and I may be more like those strange living creatures than we realize.  After all, in our Westminster Catechism, we confess that the “chief end” of human beings is to “glorify” and “enjoy” God forever.  How do you make sense of this confession?  Do you find that a helpful and compelling way to imagine your own life? 

[Time for questions/conversation].