I heard a story in class the other day.
Thirty years ago, Linda (pseudonym) was taking Bible studies with a friend. Linda was working her way through the lessons at a very desultory pace. She continued more because she didn't want to disappoint her friend than because of a deep spiritual commitment.
Then she had a dream. In the dream her room was flooded with dazzling, brilliant light. Those of us listening were sure this light announced the presence of God in her life. But it didn't. In her dream she realized a nuclear bomb had detonated near by. Life was over. She wasn't ready. It was too late.
When she woke, she regarded the dream as a warning from God. So she got busy and completed the lessons and was baptized. And spent the next thirty years going to church, praying and doing all the other things believers do. She was devoted to God, but she couldn't shake her secret dread--if she didn't do what was right, if she didn't respond promptly enough to God, he would nuke her.
Then in a period of reflection, the nightmare of dread was suddenly transformed. She now saw the dream as evidence God cared enough to get her attention. God wanted a connection with her.
Instead of a nightmare, the dream was now a vision of God's care.
This story is a perfect metaphor for my approach to preaching on the Book of Revelation. I grew up captivated by the vivid images of beasts, plagues, devils, persecution and destruction evangelists drew from Revelation.
Now I see these dark images as background matrix for the real jewel of the book announced early in the first chapter: Grace and Peace to you. Revelation is not a nightmare of impending doom. It is a vision of God's care through the chaos and evil that are already amply evident in our world. At least that is how I see it through my hope-tinted glasses.
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In her book "Eat, Pray, Love" Elizabeth Gilbert tells of a recurring dream she had for many years of a large man standing next to her bed. She would often wake in a cold sweaty panic.
ReplyDeleteOn her year-long journey she met a Balinese wiseman who listened to her dream and then told her a story:
“The Balinese believe we are each accompanied at birth by four invisible brothers, who come into the world with us and protect us throughout our lives. … The brothers inhabit the four virtues a person needs in order to be safe and happy in life: intelligence, friendship, strength and poetry. The brothers can be called upon in any critical situation for rescue and assistance.”
Then, the wiseman told her that the man standing beside her in her sleep was one of her brothers, sent to protect her. The fact that she could see him was a rare blessing - very few people ever see them.
She never woke in fear again.
So much of life is our frame of reference! Thanks for this new and empowering take on Revelation!
Just as God chose to make the train late, so the believer missed the boat to America, when it left on its maiden voyage, so he finds it 'necessary' (?), 'fair'(?!?), or somehow inescapable that he sic the hounds of heaven -- or a bad dream -- on some, but leaves others, who wish for a glimmer of evidence of His care for them, to live out empty, lonesome lives. Hmmm .... how is that?
ReplyDeleteUncertain:
ReplyDeleteI do not know the answer to your question. As a post-modern, I do not try to make all stories conform to a master template of truth. As a humanist, I honor the specific stories people tell as honest reports of how they have lived. As a pastor, I unabashedly tell stories that I think will be helpful for at least some of my listeners, fully aware that no one story works for everyone. I deliberately tell stories that placed side-by-side are contradictory, at least on their face. That is the only way I know to connect the variety of human experience to the blessings of narrative (i.e. meaning and purpose).
Dave, Thanks for the Balinese story.
ReplyDelete