Glimpses of Heaven - October 26
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48; Ezra 5:1-17; Rev. 4:1-11; Matt. 13:1-9
Today’s Reflection
And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without ceasing they sing, ‘Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God the Almighty, who was and is and is to come.’ —Revelation 4: 8
In Revelation 4, John paints a vivid scene anticipating what heaven will be like. Heaven, as we read in these verses, is filled with such beautiful sights as a throne, encircled by a rainbow, surrounded by 24 more thrones, on which are seated 24 elders in white robes with golden crowns. From the throne emanates thunder and lightning, and lined up in front of the throne are seven torches (the seven spirits of God, John writes) facing a sea that seems as clear as glass or crystal. And not only all of this, but then around the throne are also four creatures, each with a different face, but all four levitating or flying with their six wings each and all four covered in eyes. This seems a strange scene to most of us, and one that might make some say, “This is not my idea of heaven!”
Of course, many commentators believe that the Book of Revelation is in the category of apocalyptic literature. This means that all these strange images and scenes are metaphoric—they were meant to point us toward either the historical circumstances with which John was struggling at the time, or toward a spiritual reality so beyond what we can grasp (or what our mere words can describe) that John’s attempt comes across as not only otherworldly but even unbelievable.
But I’d like to consider how we ourselves can experience something very otherworldly and inexplicably beautiful when we come together for worship. When I think of recent Sunday services in the Nave at Saint Stephen’s, I find myself recalling moments when we entered God’s time and I could gain even just the briefest glimpse of what heaven—or eternal life worshipping in the loving presence of God—could be like.
Here’s one such holy moment: Processing out the Gospel as the congregation sang “Amazing Grace.” I love when the acolytes and I get out to our place amidst the congregation and there is still a stanza or so left to sing. I love that moment of being surrounded by the congregation, singing the last stanza out in the middle of the pews, gazing up at the cross that was processed out as well as the cross on the back wall, then lifting the book high into air (so that we may, with reverence, acknowledge it to be the Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ), and finally being able to boldly proclaim the words and deeds of Christ. It is meaningful to be able to proclaim the Word of God surrounded by all of you—the people who embody the Body of Christ. This is one glimpse of being forever in the presence of God.
Another set of holy moments: The way time slows down and my only thought and every focus is on praying the Eucharistic prayer. I am very aware of my surroundings, of who is near me, of who is gathered throughout the church, and I feel at peace. (Sometimes the lights above us will flicker off and on inexplicably. In those moments I cannot help but pause and smile, sensing that maybe God is winking at us in these moments of technical difficulty!) I feel so grateful for the privilege of leading us in these prayers that prepare us to receive Holy Communion together. When we sing together the Sanctus—reminiscent of the “holy, holy, holy” hymn we read of the winged creatures singing in Revelation 4—and we behind the table are bowing out of reverence for God’s holiness, this is a glimpse of what was, and is, and is to come. Or that brief, shining moment of deep clarity and silence when I raise the host and break it in half, declaring that “Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us.” The silence we hold in that moment makes the sound of breaking of the bread seem very clear, and reminiscent to me of Christ’s very bones being broken for us. And then, as the Fraction hymn begins, for me it is very meaningful to be able to sing “Lamb of God, you take away the sins of world, have mercy on us” while I am breaking the host into the pieces that will be shared with all those gathered. This reminds me of how Jesus took the five loaves and made sure there was enough for all gathered to share. These, too, are further glimpses of our being forever in the presence of God.
And then, as we make our way through the pews sharing “the Body of Christ, the bread of heaven,” to have that moment with each person is the best of all. (To be honest, I will kind of miss our ‘communion delivery service’ when we go back to the rail for all our services, as I have gotten used to this way of bringing the bread and the wine to where you are—and it is a good reminder that worship happens all around the worship space, not just up at the front!) Some make eye contact, some with serious eyes and some with smiling eyes. Some look down or close their eyes. Some say “Amen.” Some visitors, and especially younger ones, will say “thank you.” A few will lower their masks just before I offer communion, though most leave their masks on until after they intinct their wafer into the wine. One person usually lowers their mask to reveal an especially joyful smile as I place the bread in their hand. Some infants and toddlers, who do not yet fully understand what is going on, instinctually reach their hands out to receive the bread. Other little ones need a little nudge from a mom or dad or grandparent to put their hands out so that I may give them the bread. Others cross their arms across their chests to show that they would like to receive a blessing. Each time I turn to the next person to offer the bread of heaven is yet another glimpse of being forever in the presence of God—and of all those who want to share in God’s love and light for ever.
I pray that we may all be able to experience, in these precious times of worshipping together, a sense of being suspended together for a moment in God’s time—and that together we may catch a glimpse of what heaven is like in the here and now.
—Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
Recall a recent worship service in which you participated, whether in person or online. What moments stand out to you as ones when you gained a glimpse of being in communion with God and all the company of heaven?
Daily Challenge
If you want to dig deeper into the “eschatological nature of liturgy,” especially of how the service of Holy Communion is “a ritual enactment of the Last Day, a corporate enactment of our collective hope,” take a look at Nathan Jennings’ blog post, “The End Repeats the Beginning.”
Or for another take on the meaning and function of our liturgy, see my recent Sunday Forum presentation on “How Do We Keep the Gift Moving? A Quick, Deep Dive into Liturgical Theology.”