The Divine Fairy Tale

Sermon manuscript for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists for Sabbath, September 5, 2015. THIS IS A REVISED VERSION OF WHAT I POSTED ON LAST FRIDAY.

Texts:  Isaiah 11:1-9 and Revelation 1:1-6

I was visiting with a woman at the Green Bean Coffee Shop on Thursday morning over on Greenwood Avenue. We were engaged in a heavy conversation about theology and spiritual life. She had gone back to school later in life and was now wrestling with the huge questions that arise when you bring together traditional Christian dogma and the complicated understanding of humanity that we learn about in the social sciences. How did she put all this together? We discussed exceptional Bible passages and non-normal humans.

At some point in our deep conversation I became aware of what was going on behind me. It was story time. A number of young parents were present with little kids and someone was reading or telling a story. A fairy tale. Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

For an instant I wanted to listen, but they were behind me and there was a real, live person right in front of me. Within seconds that entire universe of people and story behind me ceased to exist and I was back with Jean.

But even though I didn't hear the story, I know how it goes. And you know how it goes. Right?

Once upon a time there was a girl named Goldilocks.

She went exploring. She found a house. Inside the house there was a table with three bowls of porridge.

One bowl was too . . . hot

And one was too . . . cold.

And one was . . . just right.

Is this a true story?

Yes, of course it is. No, not because bears live in houses and sleep in beds and eat porridge for breakfast. But often in life there is a “just right.” Not too hot, not too cold. Not too soft, not too hard. There is a happy medium, a golden mean. And that's the best place to live.

We tell the story of Goldilocks because it's entertaining, AND because it tells the truth.

I have another favorite fairy tale: Cinderella. When I read the story—especially when the book I'm reading has just the right art work—I immediately hate the wicked mother and the evil sisters. I ache with the desperateness of Cinderella's plight. How can she ever escape? Then she goes to the ball and my hope leaps to life. This is going to work out all right after all. Goodness is alive in the world. But alas. She leaves the ball. She returns to her drudgery and torment. My heart sinks. Then I see the handsome prince searching. He has the shoe. Breathlessly, I read the words and turn the pages of the book, as eager as my kids are to have the prince bring the slipper and put it on Cinderella's foot. Finally, he's there. He's at the house. But, of course, the wicked mother makes a final effort to Cinderella from escaping. But her efforts fail.

The prince and Cinderella are married and live happily ever after.

Is this story true?

Yes, of course it is. It is true that faithfulness and diligence are supposed to produce sweet results. It's true that we dream of the triumph of right and goodness. And it is true that goodness will finally triumph. God has written that hope in our very bones and rewritten it in the promises of the Bible.

Today's sermon is the first in a series on the Book of Revelation. I call Revelation, “The Divine Fairy Tale.” Why do I call it a fairy tale?

First, it is true in the way that the best fairy tales are true. The Book is full of mayhem and heartbreak, Rampant evil and soul-stretching longing for justice. Then when you can hardly take any more, when the weight of darkness and evil has become insuperable, “happily ever after” happens. This world ends and a new world—paradise—takes its place.

Like a good fairy tale, Revelation does not teach us new information, it celebrates what we already know from reading the rest of the Bible: God wins. The Devil can rage. People can fail. But God wins. The darkness is vanquished by the light.

Let's go back to the Goldilocks story for a minute. we dream of the triumph of right and goodness. She went into the bears house and found three bowls on the table.

What is in the bowls? Porridge. What is porridge? Oatmeal? Cornmeal mush? Cream of Wheat? Rice? Hominy grits? Did it have raisins or blueberries in it? Brown sugar or honey? These questions would be fruitful only if you were the writer (or the story teller ad libbing to add color to the tale). Imagine the writer told us not only whether it was rice or corn or wheat and whether it was seasoned with sugar or honey, blueberries or raisins and how much salt was added. All that information would add color to the story. It would help us prolong the pleasurable experience of telling the story to our kids. But none of that information add even the slightest bit of insight into the meaning of the story.

It's something like that with Revelation. When people try to do conventional exegesis—that is Bible interpretation—on the book of Revelation, they often get lost in the fantastical details of the imagery. Just this past week one of my friends who is also a “friend” on Facebook was speculating about the wildfires in eastern Washington and elsewhere in the West. Maybe they are precursors of the “First Trumpet” of Revelation:

The first angel blew his trumpet, and hail and fire mixed with blood were thrown down on the earth. One-third of the earth was set on fire, one-third of the trees were burned, and all the green grass was burned. (Revelation 8:7 NLT accessed through Blue Letter Bible.com)

Over the decades that I have followed such things people have suggested all sorts of interpretations of the fantastical imagery of Revelation. It's impossible to keep up with all the various scenarios people have worked out. They come and go. No specific interpretation stands the test of time.

Trying to tie the symbols of Revelation to specific items in the news is like asking whether the porridge was oatmeal or cornmeal, whether it was seasoned with blueberries or raisins. It leads ultimately to silliness.

The important facts lie on the surface. If you get sucked into trying to figure out some specific historical correlate to the locusts with stingers in their tails or an army of 144,000 celibate Jewish men you are likely to end up neutering or distorting the spiritual message of the book.

Revelation is a Grand Fairy Tale because it, 1) tells the truth we know deep in our souls and from major themes of the Bible. 2) its truths lie on the surface.

Revelation is true because it tells the truth about the human condition—the world is full of chaos and sometimes evil appears completely ascendant. And it is true because it speaks the same truth as the rest of the Bible: God will win. Love will win. Righteousness will have the last word.

If you want to “get” Revelation, forget going verse by verse or even chapter by chapter. Instead read the whole book in a single sitting. Even better get a nicely done audio version and listen to the book, the whole thing, uninterrupted. You will come away with the vital truth the book was written to reveal and you will avoid the rabbit trails and gopher holes that most “detailed exegesis” takes you down.

A few further elements that prompted my calling Revelation, “The Divine Fairy Tale.”

Revelation is a story of royalty. Fairy tales are not usually stories of peasants and poor folk except when it turns out that the people who appeared to be commoners were really nobility or when paupers become princes or chambermaids becomes queens. So in Revelation. The nobodies, those with no earthly status or power end up on the throne. There is a beautiful maiden, a scary dragon, a knight on a white horse. You read about secret words and mysterious numbers. And comes the grand climax: And they lived happily ever after.

So let's begin.

This letter is from John to the seven churches in the province of Asia. Grace and peace to you from the one who is, who always was, and who is still to come; from the sevenfold Spirit before his throne; and from Jesus Christ. He is the faithful witness to these things, the first to rise from the dead, and the ruler of all the kings of the world. All glory to him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by shedding his blood for us. 6 He has made us a Kingdom of priests (or as the KJV puts it: He has made us Kings and Priests) for God his Father. All glory and power to him forever and ever! Amen. (Revelation 1:4-6 NLT)

Grace and peace from God. John should have put the words, “spoiler alert,” before this phrase. There will be all sorts of drama through this book. There will be agonizing suspense. But already, right here at the beginning John tells us where he is going. He tells us the controlling will which stands behind the story: Grace and peace. God's kindly regard for humanity. God's intention to finally accomplish the dream first pictured in the Garden of Eden: a blessed state of well-being and tranquility. Don't fret over much as you follow the twists of plot. This is where it is headed: Grace and peace.

Grace and peace from God the Father

Grace and peace from Jesus Christ who loved us so much he would rather die than live without us.

Grace and peace from the Holy Spirit—from the Sevenfold Spirit or (KJV) the Seven Spirits.

Another note right here at the beginning. John announces that God has made us a kingdom of priests or kings and priests. As I mentioned earlier, fairy tales feature ordinary people only when in the course of the story we discover they are actually quite extraordinary. Commoners in fairy tales become nobility or royalty. John doesn't even make us wait to find this out. The heroes in this story may appear to be ordinary commoners, but they are, in fact, royalty. Royal priests. Holy kings.

Five times in the Book of Revelation John pictures the people of God ON the throne with God. Not on their faces before the throne, not quaking in fear as the one on the throne gazes at them with piercing eyes. Five times, John describes the people of God sitting on the throne with God. They reign with God. They judge with God. God is with them and they are with God.

Hallelujah! This is the grand climax of the story. This is the shape of the “happily ever after” of this divine fairy tale.

If you find yourself arguing about the precise characteristics of the monsters in Revelation 12 and 13, remember the monsters are just porridge. If someone tries to get you to subscribe to their particular historical or endtime application of the trumpets, again, remember it's porridge. Don't get lost in arcane arguments about details of the story. Instead let your heart be lifted and strengthened by the best fairy tale ever told. The story that is so bright with hope and promise that all the other “happily ever afters” are mere candles lost in the dazzling luminance of the sun.

And best of all, this fairy tale, this happily ever, this eloquent prophecy is true.