Some people get hung up on 144,000.  John helps us not to be concerned about that.  “I looked,” he tells us, “and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (7:9).  Uncountable.  Vast.  The saints in the presence of the throne of God, the throne of mercy, grace, righteousness, purity, holiness.  The saints in the presence of the Lamb, the Lamb who was slain, by whose death and resurrection we have full access to all mercy, grace, righteousness, purity, and holiness.  We know that Lamb; that Lamb knows us.  When I lift the bread and the cup, I say “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world”: with these words, I invite you to know that what Jesus willingly offers us is truly, fully alive and at work in us, by faith.

          The saints come from every people (7:9).  The Church is not for people only of a certain color, background, culture, language, or political allegiance.  Every human being bears the image of God, miserably deformed by sin: don’t you just hate that?  In Christ, by the Holy Spirit, that image is being restored in the Church, through faith.  Here is where we celebrate faith, God’s gift, as we celebrate Jesus Christ, God’s gift.  We celebrate, joyfully and solemnly, who Jesus is for us, what he has done for us, and what he offers to do for us, in us, today, here, from this table, among this gathering of those who long for Christ, long to know him, love him, live for him to live with him, eternally.  We, too, are saints—those whom God has called out of the world, called to Himself. 

          There before the mercy seat in the presence of the Lamb, the saints are clothed in white robes (7:9): a sign of their purity, the purity they must have to be in God’s presence.  This purity is not and cannot be earned by our works, our good intentions, our good heart.  These brilliantly white robes are a sign of the purity given the saints as they receive the Lamb by faith: they receive the purity of the spotless Lamb who was slain.  They are clothed, covered, with the purity of Jesus.  God gives them these robes; the robes are yet another of God’s gifts.  In Christ, we need no longer fear to come before God with our muddy shoes, dirty hands, and stained hearts.  In Christ, God gives us the purity we could never have otherwise: purity to be in His presence, to be with Him.  When you are washed in the blood of the Lamb, you are washed indeed.

          The saints hold palm branches (7:9).  It’s a festive parade, a celebration, a time of happiness, of singing with gleeful thanks, the overflow of joy.  To hear some people talk, Revelation is just one terrifying thing after another, but that fails to account for the joy!  Revelation is a joyful book: a seriously joyful book, a joyfully sacred book.  Revelation tells us about the completion of all things.  Some people should be scared by that, but not us.  We’re the ones singing, “At last!  At last!  O happy day!”

          John records their song: “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb” (7:10).  Salvation is with God.  God is my sure salvation.  He, only, has the power of salvation: freedom, rescue, forgiveness, reconciliation.  We will trust and not be afraid.  The saints are affirming their faith, proclaiming, celebrating their faith.  This is what saints do.

          Some of you grew up with a perspective on saints.  You certainly never thought of yourself as one.  To think of yourself as a saint was the sure sign that you were no saint!  We observe All Saints’ Day not to bow down before or seek the special favor of one dead person or another, but to remind ourselves that, as God has called us and set us apart for His service, for His kingdom, He has made us holy and promises to make us holy, in Christ, by the Holy Spirit.  Saints affirm the faith.  They proclaim the faith, in word and deed.  Saints celebrate the faith.  In Christ, we are saints: Christ is helping us to live up to our calling.

          John shows us what we can expect.  We will be gathered in a great celebration of worship: the entire Church, gathered back together, perfectly, to praise God with joy beyond anything we can imagine now—and we can imagine a lot of joy.  We can have a taste of that fullness of joy now, today, from this table: the joy of receiving Christ into our lives, of affirming his saving power in us, the joy of affirming the Spirit’s power in us to transform, purify, and make holy.  Then we go, proclaim, and invite others to the celebration.  If you live like you’re going to a funeral, you won’t get many takers.  If you live your celebration of Jesus Christ, you’ll find others who want to come to the party, too, with you.

          The saints’ song is taken up by choirs of angels: “Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever.  Amen!” (7:12).  Music has the power to take us places, to evoke emotions, to help us express emotions.  Heaven is a holy concert.  Is it country, rock, rap, Bach, Beethoven?  Yes!  It’s all magnificent, victorious praise on a scale we can barely imagine.  It’s the kind of song that gets in our blood, gets in our bones.  The saints sing; angels respond.  The angels sing and the saints respond.  God sings and all creation responds.  Christ sings, and the dead respond.  The Spirit sings and we are carried to high places of wonder, peace, and joy.

          We want that for worship.  We’d love to have that every Sunday.  Preacher, why can’t you deliver that every Sunday?  Kathy, why can’t you deliver that every Sunday?  Congregation, why can’t you deliver that every Sunday?  In some ways, small ways, we do.  We’ll never know it or feel it, apart from the Spirit.  It’s the Spirit, the Spirit’s song, that carries us there.  Only by the Spirit, by faith, from love, will we have that holy flavor.  If Revelation offers any help for perceiving, it seems like the Spirit takes us to that sacredness as we’re praising God, as we’re wanting to.  How can I keep from singing?

          We arrive at that point by recognizing the glory and wisdom and honor and power and strength of God, by finding our joy in the glory and wisdom and honor and power and strength of God and the Lamb and the Holy Spirit.  Glory—palpable presence, victory.  Wisdom—the depths of the mind of the Creator.  Honor—consider the praiseworthiness of God!  Power—creation, resurrection, no obstacle is any obstacle to God.  Strength—not by my might, not by my hand, not by my will, O Lord: by Thine only!  When we rightly recognize and feel the worth of God, beloved, we will feel joy and wonder, peace and love that the world cannot take away, because none of it comes from the world; none of it belongs to the world.  Salvation belongs to God.  Contemplate the perfect excellence of God, and He will fill you.

          John is told that the people in white robes, singing and celebrating God are “they who have come out of the great tribulation,” washed and made white in the blood of the lamb (7:14).  Revelation is a joyful book, a mysterious book, a book that speaks of a great trial, a great tribulation for the faithful in the world, painful persecution of the Church.  But that is not the end of the story—it would be, I suppose, if the saints didn’t persevere, if we didn’t continue, despite all the persecution the world could serve up, didn’t continue to affirm the faith, to proclaim and celebrate it, to affirm, proclaim and celebrate God, Jesus Christ, and the power of the Spirit.  Saints don’t stop.

          Most of us have been blessed with a good life.  And if we don’t fight for the faith, we won’t be able to keep the faith.  If we think a life of terrible misfortunes is a serious test of faith, how about a good life, mostly trouble-free, mostly pain-free, with mostly more than enough of the good things of this life?  When you have all that, do you really need God?  What could God possibly add when you have all that?  Ask around; find out what those who have no use for God say.  The faith you don’t fight for is the faith you lose.

          The saints “are before the throne of God,” where they “serve Him day and night in His temple” (7:15).  How do they serve Him there?  We come away from Revelation with many unanswered questions, which is just as it ought to be.  God may answer our questions, in His time.  Now, we face another question, daily, hourly: how do we serve God, here?

          John is told that “he who sits on the throne will shelter [the saints] with His presence” (7:15).  Shelter them from what there?  I’m thinking this could mean that those who serve God day and night will never feel the absence of God’s sheltering presence.  They shall have no lack, there; here, we remember the Lord is our shepherd.  In that sheltering, shepherding presence, “never again will [the saints] hunger or thirst” (7:16).  This table is a strong reminder of that spiritual reality.  How is it we hunger for God?  How is it we thirst for God?  God makes us hungry and thirsty.  He makes us hungry and thirsty to fill us as He alone can.  He leads us here to fill us here.

          We’re accustomed to thinking of saints as especially blessed people, people who do miraculous things, things you or I could never hope to do, things neither you nor I particularly care to do—hard, demanding, mostly unbearable things.  The reality is much simpler and much more wonderful: saints are people who are full.  God fills them because they are hungry.  Saints become saints by recognizing, feeling their own emptiness.  God has made them hungry; He has caused them to understand that He alone can truly, fully fill them, satisfy them.  Saints live for God who gives that fullness because He is fullness.  By God’s Holy Spirit, He is leading us all towards fullness.  We have never been filled by a taste of bread and a taste of juice.  It isn’t about the bread and the juice but about the fullness Jesus offers us by faith.  Here God takes small things and makes them big.

          John is told that the Lamb “will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (7:17).  Our shepherd.  He guards and guides us.  He feeds us.  He knows the way to the living water.  He is the living water because he is the Word of God.  He pours himself out for us.  He pours himself into us.  He touches us, wiping away our tears.  We cry from sorrow and pain: God in Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit, comforts us, holds us. 

          We cry, but not from sorrow, not from pain but from relief, release, joy, the tension and strain gone, leaning on Jesus, resting, safe in the arms of Jesus, knowing, wonderfully, the peace we cannot obtain for ourselves, the gladness, the joy.  They are gifts; they are given.  God gives them to us, here.  Be holy, for I am holy, God tells us.  Be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect, Christ tells us.  Saints know they cannot be and can be only through Jesus Christ.  We remember here, today, in a most sensible way, how Jesus gives himself for the saints.  Here, today, give yourself to Jesus, and be the saint God calls you to be.

          O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!  How unsearchable are God’s judgments and how unfathomable God’s ways!  For from God and through God and to God are all things.  To God be glory forever.