After all the mystical, visionary imagery in the Book of Revelation—Christ with a double-edge sword coming from his mouth, the four horsemen, the scroll, the seven plagues, the whore of Babylon, the lake of fire and sulfur, and on and on—the book draws near the close by showing a new heaven and new earth and new Jerusalem. Wipe all the bad things away and start fresh. And this new Jerusalem is 1500 miles wide, made of gold and jewels, with the river of life running through it and the tree of life on the banks. The author says, “Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they will have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by the gates” (Rev. 22:14). Everyone else—“the dogs and sorcerers and fornicators and murderers and idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices falsehood” (Rev. 22:15)—is shut outside, barred from the city and the river of life and the tree of life. (I get why all the others are barred, but what has the author got against dogs?)
If you have read the Book of Revelation, you will recall that trying to make sense of it is like trying to interpret someone else’s dream. It’s wild. It’s written in the traditional style of apocalyptic literature, which was a thing back then. Everything is symbolic, but we modern readers have lost much of the context of those symbols. Over the centuries, theologians have read many things into the text and understood it as prophetic of the end times. Which feels like a false step to me.
So I’m not going there. Instead, let’s focus on that imagery of a new earth and new city with the river of life flowing through it. I suggest that rather than wiping out the old earth, the new earth is already here, trying to break through wherever it’s given the opportunity. When we talk about the symbolism of washing our robes in order to be able to enter the new city, we do so by centering our hearts and energy on helping that new earth to emerge, helping that river of life to flow freely—in ourselves and in the world. But it’s a constant struggle, because the old earth with all of its problems and temptations is also present and threatens to destroy the new earth.
The new earth, the new city, the river of life, the tree of life—these are all images of the Divine. We get stuck on God being some old white guy with a robe and a flowing beard. That’s just so limiting. Think of God as being a beautiful city where you can live in joy, illuminated by God’s presence. Think of God as a life force that you can drink, that flows like a river through us and through everything that lives.
I talked a few weeks ago about how I planted seeds in my garden with great joy—and then the slugs came and ate all the sprouts. It’s kind of like that. We plant seeds, we water and weed around them, we patrol for slugs and insects and rabbits and deer, and some of those plants may be able to emerge and thrive. The more we practice this work, the more we show up for it, the more we tune into the life force around us, the better we get at helping that life force to shine through.
What does this look like? It can look so many different ways. It can mean making sure that all children have the resources to develop their bodies and minds so they can live into their fullest, best selves: good schools, enough to eat, good healthcare, supportive relationships, and a solid financial footing.
Back in 2019, billionaire Robert Smith, the wealthiest African-American in the U.S., paid off all the student debt for the entire graduating class at Morehouse College, a historically Black men’s college. The total donation was $34 million. Smith encouraged others who had means to do the same. The following year, inspired by Smith’s example, a fellow named Frank Baker paid off the debts of about 50 seniors at Spelman, the historically Black women’s college in Atlanta, and he pledged to do the same for another three years, for a total donation of about $1 million. These two men shared their good fortune by helping others graduate from college and get out into the world on good footing. What a gift. What a tangible way to foster that life force in these young adults.
We’re not all millionaires. But we’re still participating in that river of life. One way we do this is by donating food to Tutu’s Pantry at Stevens Elementary so that no children go hungry over the weekends and longer breaks. It’s very basic: make sure kids have access to food. That’s something we can do.
June is Pride month, where we celebrate in particular the whole spectrum of sexuality and gender that God has created. Gender is not a binary and never was, but society has tried to shoehorn people into male or female. Sexuality is also not binary but a spectrum. These days our trans youth are coming under public scrutiny, especially regarding trans girls in sports. There is an anti-trans demonstration coming up this Saturday at Cal Anderson Park. The demonstration is called “Hands off Our Kids,” as if people are trying to teach children to be trans. Our trans community is under attack. One way we can support our trans siblings is to turn out for a counter demonstration on Saturday, and if you want more information, check your Tuesday email or talk to me. Being trans or gender-fluid doesn’t mean a person is sick or bad. It means they’ve been doing some deeply personal and vulnerable work to figure out how to be their best selves in a body that doesn’t feel right. So we foster their life force and celebrate their courage.
Here’s another way to foster that life force. Do any of you listen to Chris Morgan’s radio program called “The Wild” on KUOW? In his episode this week, he focused on the Cuyahoga Valley National Park between Cleveland and Akron, Ohio. You may recall that the Cuyahoga River caught fire back in 1969 from all the industrial pollution dumped into it. In fact, it caught fire more than once. That river was dead. That fire got people’s attention, because rivers aren’t supposed to burn. Talk about river of life—this was a river of death. People responded by starting Earth Day, insisting that we have to do a better job of caring for our planet. Locally, in Ohio, people started pushing to create this national park of 33,000 acres. Eventually, President Ford signed that law.
And then the real work began. Where there had been a VW repair place, there were all kinds of random car parts. Other things had been dumped into the river. Volunteers got in their canoes and fished out many old tires, toilets, car parts, and other trash. The national parks people brought in large machines to dig out all the toxic soil and remove it to a location where it could be dealt with appropriately. Trails were built, trees planted. And the land itself started to heal. Now, roughly 50 years later, it’s a paradise. There are lots of birds and other wildlife living in this park. There are small organic farms within the park boundaries that use regenerative farming methods to build up the soil and promote a healthy ecosystem. And volunteers still show up to cut back all the invasives. Like patrolling for slugs, this work is ongoing. But old earth and an old river that were dead have become a place where life force is strong and thriving.
One volunteer, Peg Bobell (sp?), said this:
People used to ask me, “Where are you going to move to, or where are you going to retire to, or whatever? Where’s your perfect place?” And I would say, “I’m not looking for a perfect place; I’m looking to make this place more perfect.” I think it’s very important to feel rooted in a place and to feel some sense of “I’m a part of this place.” (Chris Morgan, “The Wild,” series on national parks: National Parks — The Wild.)
Can you hear how she’s living into fostering the river of life in the midst of what had been a river of death? And she understands that she is a part of the place, just as it is a part of her.
After seeing how humans and nature have worked together to bring this land and river back to life, radio host Chris Morgan says,
Ultimately, it’s a story of resilience. It’s a stark reminder of the damage that we can rain down on the planet. But we don’t have to be bound by the past. We can correct our mistakes and help nature return in abundance—no matter what we throw at her. [Ibid.]
We don’t have to be bound by the past. That’s the old earth, the old temptations to pollute freely, to dump toxins directly into the water, to think we can trash the planet and somehow that won’t impact us. The old earth says it’s okay to be racist, to not provide a decent education to all children. The old earth says you have to be male or female and straight. The old ways don’t realize how we all lose out when those bright young minds aren’t given every opportunity to shine and grow. We can foster that life force, that river of life, and the new earth will emerge.
Our reading says the home of God is among mortals. All mortals—not just humans. God dwells with us, and we are God’s people. We live not in a place of death but centered in that life force. God is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. May we always live in that life-giving force. Amen.