Who Are These People Dressed in White?

In the six weeks between Easter and Pentecost, we spend time, as a church, examining the biblical texts that deal Jesus’ resurrection and the promise of eternal life.  Our sermon text is an excerpt from John’s vision of the future… John’s revelation.  In it, we catch a glimpse of what it might be like to live in glory in the very presence of God.  John’s vision is so powerful and so moving that his words have been used to comfort those who mourn the death of a loved one… giving a picture of hope and joy in a life beyond this life.  But these words of John words are set in the midst of a prophesy of the Last Days that is so terrible… so confusing… so frightening that it is rarely, if ever, touched upon in any study of the biblical text… for the question that we inevitably ask ourselves is “Which group are we in… the ones who die in agony in the fire and brimstone during the great ordeal… condemned to the flames of hell forever… or the ones who sing joyful songs before the throne of the Lamb… the ones whose tears are wiped away by God himself?”

Who are these people dressed in white?  Is it possible that we could be counted among their number… or is there a trial coming that will test our mettle… a test that we must still pass before we know for sure what our ultimate fate will be?   What is the great ordeal?  Oh, sure… we have confessed our faith… and been baptized.  But has that faith ever truly been tested?   And, if it is ever tested, will we sink into the sea as Peter did when he faltered in his faith?   Will we deny Christ when that trial comes?  And what happens if we fail the test?   We tell stories of those who were so strong in their faith that they went to their deaths without wavering, boldly singing songs of praise.  But we wonder what happened to the ones who couldn’t do it… the ones who broke under torture and screamed their denials… those who died in the flames recanting their beliefs… the ones who were willing to condemn their neighbors to save their own lives… or the lives of their children?   Would we be so willing to profess our Christianity if we knew we could lose our jobs… our homes… our families… our lives… for doing so?   And, if the Bible tells us that Jesus will deny knowing us if we deny him… what will happen to us if we fail the test?  Where will we end up?  Who are these people dressed in white?  Do I know them?   Am I one of them?  Have I come through the great ordeal?

Most people would rather not talk about their own death.  In fact, Woody Allen captured the attitude of our current culture best when he said, "I do not want to attain immortality through my work; I want to attain it by not dying."  One way to skip the fires of hell would be to simply remain on this mortal coil forever.  However, as some of our older parishioners have pointed out, sometimes that’s not the most wonderful vision of the future either.  Life in this world is not easy.  In fact, much of time it is a struggle to maintain a semblance of joy when we are surrounded by so much pain.  Death… disease… disability… poverty… violence… war… natural disasters… famine… there are a lot of reasons why we might not wish to live forever in this world that we know.  In fact, there may be evidence to support the contention that life on this earth is the great ordeal.

I had the privilege of enjoying a conversation with a Christian friend this week.  We spoke about death and the reality of life in this world.  We also spoke of the promise of life beyond death.  At one point, my friend turned to me and said, “Life in this world is hard.  It is painful.  It never lives up to its billing… its potential.  That’s how I know that I am not where I am supposed to be.  I was not created for this world, but for some place very different.  When I finally arrive at where I am supposed to be… all the incongruities… the pain… the effort that it takes to survive… to maintain a balance in my life… all that will disappear.  Then, I will know that I am where I was meant to be all along.”  My friend was talking about these people… the ones who are dressed in white… who no longer suffer the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”  Who are these people dressed in white?  They are us. Or, at least, they are John’s vision of who we are meant to be… in the place that we are meant to live.  But, like a donkey chasing a carrot on end of a stick, we chase that vision that lies before us… the vision that promises good things to come, but  doesn’t reflecting the reality of our lives today.

The season of Easter gives us pause to reflect upon the universal destiny of life as we know it… death… juxtaposed to the proffered reality of new life in Jesus Christ not only for earthly time but also for eternal existence.  God’s kingdom is “already here.” It broke into the world when a little baby was born in Bethlehem centuries ago.  And yet, God’s kingdom is “not yet” fully established. We can see evidence all around us that the promise of God’s eternal reign of peace has not yet come to this world.  So, you and I are trapped in the “between times” of “already” and “not yet” and… while some may say we are in the End Times already… there is still ample evidence that not all who live on this third rock from the sun have heard the Good News and been offered the opportunity to choose life. Each of our scripture texts today points to the reality that life is not as we would wish it to be… and yet… each offers a ray of hope that we can cling to in the struggles that we face.

Don Smith read an excerpt from John that speaks of Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem during the Festival of Dedication… what is today called Hanukkah. When confronted by those demanding that he stake his claim as the Messiah, Jesus says that he has already done so, but they have chosen not to believe. He then goes on to say that their unbelief is a sign that they “do not belong to his sheep.” “My sheep hear my voice,” he says. “I know them, and they follow me.” Doesn’t that beg the question: “Do we hear Jesus’ voice?” “Does Jesus know us?” “Do we follow him?” “Do we hear Jesus’ voice?” “Does Jesus know us?”  “Do we follow him?”  We could probably discuss each of those questions at length…struggling to come up with an answer that satisfies…and brings peace to our hearts. For most of us, I suspect, the answers are “Sometimes”, “I hope so”, and “I’m trying”…and I am not sure that those answers bring the peace we are seeking.  Yet, once again, we hear the promise that he offers: “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.” Who are these people dressed in white? Can I be one of them?

Together, we read the Twenty-Third Psalm.  It is probably the most familiar passage of scripture in the Bible… familiar even to nonbelievers because it is quoted so often.  When I served as a hospice chaplain, visiting the terminally ill in the tiny towns of east central Texas, this was the text I was asked to read most often when I sat at someone’s bedside.  Only six verses long, it is packed with images that bring great comfort… and yet… the image of walking through the valley of the shadow… the mention of fear and the reality of evil… the vision of a table set in the presence of enemies… all speak to the struggle of life that goes on all around us.  A colleague of mine… a United Methodist pastor… has written a poem inspired by the Twenty-Third Psalm that speaks of both the reality of life and the comfort that God provides to those who trust in him.  I would like to share that poem with you now.  It is called “A Pastor’s Personal Psalm”:

A Pastor’s Personal Psalm

Mary Lou Dillon

God is my Provider, Guide, and Protector,

            Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.

                        God is all I need.

God leads me to stillness and quiet,

sacred places where my soul is safe.

God rehabilitates my soul,

refreshing and renewing my inner teacher.

God leads me safely through the wild, untamed forest,

a timid, shy, wild animal seeking a safe encounter,

for the sake of my God-created soul.

I walk through difficult situations where joy is hard to find,

yet I’m not afraid;

God, who created me, is with me;

I am comforted by the familiarity of Your voice

and Your presence in Your world.

You prepared my soul to be sturdy, strong, and stable,

knowing I’d have to fight for survival;

You covered me in the oil of gladness;

my cup overflows.

                        I drink from my saucer.

Your strength has been and always will be my constant companion.

I am Yours and You are mine,

            to infinity and beyond.

            Finally, there is John’s vision… the passage that I read from Revelation. What a glorious vision it is… and yet, it does not reflect the reality of what we are living.  Alexander Pope, in his “Essay on Man,” wrote these words:

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast:

Man never is, but always to be blest:

The soul, uneasy, and confined from home,

Rests and expatiates on a life to come.”

I would venture a guess that most of us are unfamiliar with the word “expatiate.”  To expatiate is to speak or write about something at length.  And yes, we do speak or write at length about this life that is to come… for that vision is our hope.  We desperately want to be those people dressed in white… the ones who know no hunger… nor thirst… nor any scorching heat… the ones who are fed by the Lamb of God… who follow him to springs of water… and whose tears are dried by God himself.

            The question that remains is this: If John’s revelation is God’s vision for us… if we are supposed to be these people dressed in white… then, what are we doing here?  Why are we in this place?  What do we do in this “between times” existence?   Most of us will never know the answer to the first two questions.  The “what we are doing here” or “why we are here” will remain a mystery.  Books have been written on man’s search for meaning in this life.  But, for Christians, there is an answer to the question “What do we do in this “between times” existence?”  The answer lies in the text that Don read for us this morning: “My sheep hear my voice.  I know them, and they follow me.”  The voice of Jesus… that Great Shepherd of the Sheep… is calling us to follow him.  Can we hear him calling us?  Are we following his lead?  If so,… then, we are doing what our Savior requires… and he does know us… for he calls us by name.  If, in the trials to come, we continue to listen to his voice and to follow him, then we have nothing to fear.  For… as the psalm promises us… we will find that place of rest beside the still waters… and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  Amen.

Revelation 7:9-17