Come Lord Jesus!

Rev 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21 

The book of Revelation ends in an epic way.  I cannot think of a more jubilant more hopeful way to end this book, much less serve as the final word in our Holy Scriptures. “Come, Lord Jesus,” followed a blessing of grace for all of us.  Even with the jubilance portrayed in this passage, there is also a certain amount of longing as well.  The passage seems to be filled with pine-ing, expectation, the desire that only comes from waiting and separation.

My father was in the military when I was growing up. There are many things that all military kids experiences as she is growing up. All of us military brats have a fairly long list of places we lived growing up. Along with that we have list of schools we attended.  We all have stories about the things we did to make new friends at each new place we lived.  We also all know the pain that goes with moving, not only did you leave all your friends behind when you moved, but that was usually the time when you were asked to get rid of any toys you had outgrown, stopped playing with, or were deemed for some other reason unfit (usually by an adult) to move with the family to the next location.  We never grew too attached to things because we never know what might turn up broken or missing after a move.

Another thing is that we all know what it means for Daddy to go away.  Dad was always going away, whether it was for a few days, or a few weeks, and sometimes for a month or two.  This was back when we were not constantly at war, so I never had to experience the kind of separation military kids do today, but the experience of Dad just not being around sometimes, being normal, was very much a part of my life growing up. When Dad was gone we all felt it.  We would continually ask Mom how long it would be until he returned.  We felt the separation deeply, the time was filled was the longing, and waiting.  Each day brought us closer but each day was filled with that pain that is most deeply felt in separation from someone you love. 

One thing my Dad always did, was that whenever he went away he always brought something back for each us when he returned.  When he went somewhere, where he could shop for, he would bring back that sort of thing.  I had a rice filled leather camel he picked up for me when he was in Eygpt until I was an adult and it finally just busted at the seams. But sometimes my Father would be away “in the field” (which basically means they were practicing for war) or away on actual combat missions. 

When he went away for these reasons he obviously did not have the opportunity to go pick up gifts for us, so instead he would bring back extra MREs, which were ready to eat meals they give our troops.  I can remember my Father coming through the door after having been away and I can remember that we would all run up to him and get a hug.  I remember the musty, dirty, canvas-y, smell his uniform always had, and how much I loved that smell after he had been away.  We would dance around him and bring him over to the couch were we would unlace his boots and put them away for him.  That was our ritual, the thing we did every time he came home, whether it was from a long day at work or an extended time away from us. But then, once he was settled and rested, he would open up his bag and he would pull out the MREs and he would hand one to each of us. 

Now, the old MREs (I have no idea what they are like now), they were these vacuum sealed “army” green things that held what we thought were the most mysterious and most wonderful things, dehydrated and freeze-dried stuff, but to us they were wonderful.  Some of the food they contained could be eaten as they were and some of them were just add water.  But we would each open up our MRE and see what we got.  Then, we would taste the dinners they held. They were never good, but we ate them just the same.  They always contained chicklets little triangle pieces of gum that came in white, green, orange and blue.  And each one had desert.  I can remember always hoping that mine would have chocolate or freeze dried strawberries.  Peach cobbler was never as good as it sounded.  The rewards my father brought back with him when he returned always softened the pain and the fear we experienced while he was gone.

Jesus has been gone a really long time.  Sometimes it seems that he might never return.  Thinking about it, reminds me of the feeling I had each day my Father was gone growing up, that feeling that he has been gone too long, that little feeling in the pit of my stomach that wonders maybe he is not really coming back, maybe this will be the day someone tells us that he is not really returning.  But Jesus assures, “I am coming!” Jesus does not leave it up to speculation like we had to experience growing up, Jesus is coming back.  He promises and Jesus keeps his promises.  Jesus, Like my Dad, he when he returns will have been gone longer than he would “prefer.”  But, also like my Daddy, he is not coming back empty handed so to speak.  Jesus is coming and he is coming with a reward to soften the pain that we have felt in his absence.  He comes returning with a gift, for each of us, one that we deserve as his Children, as his Church, as his followers.

He comes with a reward for all those who “wash their robes.”  This is points us back to that great Triumphal Entry celebration with the white robed people waving palm branches and singing.  Those who belong to God and to the Lamb come into the Heavenly sanctuary singing  a song of praise to the one who redeemed them.  Here they are again. Jesus says he is coming!  He is coming back for the ones who wash their robes.

Washing is very domestic word.  Coming out of a first century text, it makes me think of women all gathered at the river washing their clothes in the evening sun.  It reminds me of leaning over the tub in Romania scrubbing my jeans, vigorously rubbing the fabric together to get out the stains.  But is also reminds me of the day to day, week to work of keeping home that I go through. The idea of wash is definitely not one of those things that people in the first century understood well, that is hard for us to understand.  Laundry is still a thing 21 centuries later.

The phrasing here is interesting.  He is not coming back with a reward for the ones who are wearing white robes, he not coming to reward the ones who have had their robes washed, or been given washed robes, but for the one who does the wash. Washing is work.  It is hard work.  The passage tells us that Jesus is coming back with a reward according to each one’s work.  The work we are doing is wash.

The verb in the Greek is very specific, even.  It is not “washed” as in something that has been done, a task completed, no instead the word, John uses here is “wash”.  It is something being done.  How many of you are responsible for the wash in your home?  Tell me is your wash EVER done? What happens as soon as you “finish” doing the laundry? 

Laundry is NEVER done, really and truly done.  As soon as you put away all the clothes, there is always something else at the end of the day that is put in the basket. There is, always, more laundry that needs to be done.  I am positive that the text uses “wash” instead of “washed” because wash is not something you do once and it is done. There is always more. Living the lives Christ calls for us to live, being people who reflect Christ’s love and God’s holiness in this world is not something that is ever done.  Living a holy life is not once and done.  It holiness is not a completed task. It is something we are continually doing, like laundry.  We are always working to be holy people, we are always sharing Christ’s love, always being the presence of Christ in our world, we are always reflecting the nature God in our actions, in our words, in how we treat our fellow human beings.  Holiness is about the ways in which we continually act each day, each moment.  It is about how we interact with each person, the words we say, the kindness we show, the grace we extend to them.  Living in relationship with Christ changes how we do everything, being holy as Christ calls us to be holy, being people who wash their robes, affects every aspect of our lives, and every action, every word.  Living a holy life, being holy is never done, like the wash.  Those to whom Christ is coming with a reward are the ones who are doing their wash, all the way until the end.

Once Jesus has announced his ultimate return, the Church and the Spirit join together and call for him to come.  Come!  It is the cry of Christ children, “Please return!” The cry of Christ’s Church is, “Come, Lord, Jesus!” We all cry out for Jesus to, “Come!”

Then Jesus responds by inviting us to come to him. All who hear – that is all those who have listened to the words of this book, all those whose minds have been filled with the words and the depictions John vision brings to us, all of us are invited to come.  But then all of us who thirst; those of us who long for Christ; those of us who desire the things of God; those of us whose spirits are not quenched by anything less than communion;  relationship with our Lord,  are invited, like the woman Jesus met at the well, to drink from the water only Christ can provide. The water, which will forever quench our deep thirst, our longing our desire for all things, which only God can provide. We are told like the hearers of Isaiah, “everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!” What Christ has to offer is given freely and abundantly, it will fill us, it will quench even our deepest thirst.  The reward Christ brings when he comes, is the fulfillment of our longing, the satisfying of our overwhelming desire, the quenching of the thirst we have for relationship, for communion with God. Remember we are bride and God is coming to dwell with us.

  We are invited to join in the celebration of Christ’s homecoming. Let us be among those who wash their robes.  Let us be among those who gather around our beloved when he returns and share in the joy and jubilation his homecoming brings. 

And our response to this invitation, our response to Christ, is to cry out once again for Christ to come, “Come Lord, Jesus!”  Christ promises to come.  Christs promises to bring a reward when he comes, he promises to bring with him all that will satisfy, all that will fill us and make us whole, he promises to bring to us the water that will forever quench our thirst, that is eternal relationship with our God, that is God dwelling with us, Christ is our groom, he is coming to live with us, he is returning with us.  Amen! Come Lord, Jesus come!

Our lives should be lived in this expectation.  We should be continually be making ourselves ready. We should never be in a place where we are afraid Jesus might just come right now.  No, we should always be joyfully crying out, “Come,” knowing that we are continually making ourselves ready.  We are all living as washer women (so to speak).  Our lives are robes continually washed clean, the work we are doing is the work Christ calls us to.  Living each day in the same way Christ lived his when he was here on Earth. We are to continually living each day like it is laundry day, doing what needs to be done, to let Christ’s love shine through us; reaching out to those around us who are in pain; loving those who are unloved, touching those who our world deems untouchable, welcoming in those who are rejected and turned away; gathering in where others cast out; speaking words of kindness even when all we hear are words of hatred and contempt.  We are to work through our lives, through our actions, through our words to make right the wrongs our world creates, we are to bring healing to those who are broken and work to bring wholeness to the fragmented systems in our society.  Live our lives doing the wash for our world, for our lives.  So that with each breath, in each moment our hearts sing, “Come, Lord Jesus Come!”