Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Reading Revelation

In the last week of our seminar on prayer and worship, we read the Book of Revelation. This was the most familiar of our readings, since it is part of Scripture. It does not seem nearly as strange to us as ancient writers like Pseudo-Dionysius. And yet, it was really the strangest thing we read by far. Imagine reading Revelation without having been previously exposed to it: most of us would tear our hair out trying to figure out what is going on. And yet: do we really know what it means, or have we merely gotten comfortable with the language of Scripture's stranger sections, without truly grasping it?

Despite having a seminary degree, I have never seriously studied Revelation (and certain other books), and reading Revelation anew challenged me that I need to do so. God has given me the
great privilege of His truth revealed in Scripture, and I have simply not been interested enough to receive all of it.

One of the striking insights of Revelation is how connected worship is to everything that happens in the world. Repeatedly in the book, worship accompanies the defeat of evil. One could push
that further and say that worship IS the defeat of evil--since evil consists of the failure to acknowledge and worship God. A theologian named John Webster said it this way: "Praise is the great act of rebellion against sin."

The question, then, is: is this how we view our worship? Do we think that we are participating in God's victory over evil when we gather on Sunday? Do we realize that we are taking part in a world-transforming act? More often, I think we see ourselves as retreating from the world, taking a brief rest in God's presence, before we have to go out there and get to work again.
When we think about this, it is unsurprising that many Christians have trouble connecting worship to service. In fact, the two have become antithetical: some Christians worship, while others go out and help the poor. Some are accused of "being too heavenly-minded to do any earthly good." Such a statement has no place in Revelation, though: the "heavenly-minded" are the ones who see and take part in God's mighty acts in the world. If being "heavenly-minded" leads us to disengage from the world, than what we have in our minds is not heaven at all, but an idolatrous illusion.

How can we worship in a way that reflects the divine reality?
How can we worship conscious that we are participants in the heavenly worship and in God's victory over sin and evil in the world?
How can worship be more connected to the battles in our own lives?
These are the questions with which Revelation has left me.