Fifth Sunday of Easter
Are you old enough to have memories of sitting by a crystal-clear lake? Do you remember swimming in a deep blue ocean, with a pristine beach? I even remember walking up Hollywood Boulevard, taking in the fragrant hibiscus, and walking in and out of sparkling clean shops. That’s how old I am.
These days, I long for that “new heaven and new earth” we are promised in today’s Revelation reading. I long to walk down a long, clean beach, and to jump into a warm, clear ocean. I long for a predictable climate of four seasons, each with its own small dramas, but nothing like the one-in-a-century storms we see every year now.
And I long to see the new Jerusalem, healed of its trauma, stretching arms of peace and reconciliation. I long to see Gaza, sparkling like a diamond, filled with strong, happy, safe children, with porous borders that welcome friends from both sides as they come and go.
I long to see Ukraine, whole again, rebuilt better than before. I long to see all the war refugees streaming home, and, somehow, even the dead raised back to life, with their loved ones having no memory of their tears. And I long to see the grieving Russian mothers and widows hugging their healthy, happy sons.
Behold, this is God’s dwelling, where the earth is healed, and our hearts are healed, and war is thrown into the Lake of Fire, forever. God will wipe every tear from our eyes. That’s the promise.
O, Risen Christ, may it be so. May we live to see this promise come true.
And may we offer our lives in service of helping this scripture be fulfilled.
What does a new heaven and a new earth mean to you?
