God as Matrix

 

Text:  Revelation

May 13, 2007

Aldersgate UMC

 

            John’s Revelation offers an image of the holy city, named Jerusalem but not equated with the earthly city that has been torn apart, desecrated and destroyed by humans waging war.  The temple of John’s holy city is the Lord God, rather than an ancient structure on Temple Mount.  And the Lord God as temple is the One known through Jesus, the Christ.  The new Jerusalem exists in places where God dwells with God’s people. 

The glory of God, living in this holy city, is so bright that it replaces the sun and the moon, imagine the combined light of our two great natural sources.  People from all over the world will walk by the light of this city.  And the gates, which had been used to keep people out, will be open to all, day and night.  In fact, the light of God’s glory is so bright and constant that there will be no night.  No, these verses are not talking about Las Vegas lights.  This light shines bright because of the presence of God in the city and it is a light that leaves no room for the night. 

            In addition to God’s glory, we also hear words about a river that is filled with the water of life, water that is bright as crystal and flows out of God and the lamb.  Straddling this river is the tree of life whose leaves offer healing to all people.  What a remarkable vision!  In one sense it is beyond our wildest dreams and yet it offers hope for a future world that will not have the darkness of the one in which we live.

            During a critical time in my life several years ago, when overwhelming circumstances caused me to reflect on my vision of heaven, this image of the river of life provided comfort and opportunity for growth.  Much like Billy Joel’s song “River of Dreams” I went searching for something I had lost “in the middle of the night.”  That search led me to a vision of heaven where four loved ones who had died before me held a place for me in heaven.  I saw my Aunt Geneva who died from polio the year after I was born.  She’s the one who the “G” stands for in my name.  I saw my father who died when I was twenty-one, my niece Jeanne who died during my first year of pastoring, and my niece Carol who died ten years ago this week.  All four were growing like trees with their branches holding heaven in place.  They were like four sides of a tree growing together and straddling that river of life.  It was clear that they were waiting for me … some where, far from here.

            But the first verse of today’s passage from the Revelation promises that the heavenly city will come down out of heaven from God and somehow approach or merge with this earth.   Our tendency as human beings today is to separate the physical and spiritual aspects of our lives.  The dramatic difference between that heavenly city and our earthly lives makes it difficult for us to believe that the two might somehow meet. 

            Spiritual practices within various religions, including some sects of Christianity, encourage people to escape from their physical bodies to experience a spiritual union with God, or nirvana, as some seekers write.  Yet, for Christians, God has come into human life through the incarnation of God in Jesus, the Christ.  This incarnation of God in human life weaves together the physical and spiritual.

            Hildegard of Bingen, tenth century mystic and church leader, who exchanged letters with popes, describes Mary, the mother of Jesus, with the Latin word materia.  Some translations of Hildegard’s work replace this Latin word with matrix.  Now this is not the Matrix made popular by the movie with that name, where human beings are enslaved in a network that keeps them blind and ignorant to reality.  No, this is a matrix that cares for, holds, nurtures, and supports the infant and child of the mother of God. 

Today is Mother’s Day.  What is it that we acknowledge on this day?

·        the ways in which our mothers have provided for us

·         the things tangible and intangible that they have given

·        the reality that we would not be who we are without them

Would everyone who has or had a mother please stand?  That means that everyone should be standing.  We all have mothers.

Mothers are a matrix of support.  Yes, sometimes for a variety of reasons or circumstances one’s mother is not able to give all that is needed.  But God as matrix is able to meet and heal those places where one has been wounded.

Years ago my relationship with my own mother was not all that good.  I did not feel close to her and I was quite jealous of my sisters who had a much closer relationship, or so I thought.  As a young mother, I had developed a certain idea of what it meant to be a good mother and my mother had not cut the grade when I was younger.

But after letting myself be mothered by some mature women in one of my congregations, I was able to let go of all that previous hurt.  I realized that I could never go back and get the kind of mother that I thought I needed when I was five.  But, I could rejoice in the friendship that my mother was offering to me now as an adult woman.  And when I let go of the past, I found that I could take hold of the present and miraculously my relationship with my mother did a 180-degree turn.  God filled in the matrix and offered the care I needed.

Because I’ve worked with fabric as a seamstress and costume designer for many years it was very easy for me to also translate Hildegard’s materia to my word “material.”  My computer must think like me; because it does not recognize Latin, it keeps trying to do the same thing, replace the Latin word with material.  The fabric that I work with is also a matrix of fibers that are woven together. 

A weaving class, that I’ve been taking this spring, is a natural extension of my life-long engagement with fabric.  One of the things that I have learned is how to calculate the quantity of yarn needed to weave a scarf or towel or just a piece of cloth.  In making this determination, one has to allow for “take up” and “draw in.”  These two phrases represent the spaces that are between the threads in a piece of fabric.  No matter how delicate the threads there is always some space between them both in the warp, the vertical threads, and in the weft, the horizontal threads. 

When I first noticed this empty space in fabric, I began to think about the emptiness as being heaven or the home of God.  You know, heaven is supposed to be just spiritual so you can’t really see it, right?  It must be empty. 

Later, however, I came to see that the empty space in the matrix of life is really more like my life.  I came to believe that heaven and earth were woven together, just as the yarns in a piece of fabric are woven together.  But the reality is that the threads in a piece of fabric are better compared to God who holds me and my life together.  It is God who is the matrix and holds our lives in love, care, and support. 

This weaving together of heaven and earth happens for us through the various mission and outreach ministries of our church.  When we behave as the body of Christ, reaching out in his name to the homeless, the lonely, the hungry, the thirsty, and those in prison, then we become part of God’s matrix.  Since my first year at Aldersgate, I’ve been happy and grateful to this congregation to be able to offer this matrix of care to those in need through our member care group who provide rides, meals, and companionship to those in need and by way of our Outreach Committee who gives us opportunities for local and global missions. 

But during my recent surgery and recovery, I became a recipient of this matrix of care.  I felt supported and held by God, even though I knew the women who volunteered to cook for my family.  That care and support helped me to return to my pastoral responsibilities earlier in this week.  And God’s matrix expanded as I delivered personal items to women at the Lowell Transitional Living Center, so that they too might be remembered on Mother’s Day.

The message of John’s Revelation is that in a situation of tremendous pressure God will step in and turn things around.  John’s image of the new Jerusalem is contrasted in the Revelation with ancient Babylon.  In chapter 18, we read of Babylon and the moral and material charges that John brings against this empire.  The kings have lived luxuriously (18:7) and the merchants who placed their faith in material goods weep and mourn when no one buys their cargo (18:11).  The shipmasters cry out when they witness from afar the destruction of what everyone thought was a mighty city.

John calls us to put our trust in God and the new Jerusalem, rather than the empire that depends upon wealth and commerce.  This image of a new Jerusalem is a vision of the future, but also of the present.  “One of the key theological questions arising from this passage is what does it mean to worship God outside the temple?  The life and ministry of Jesus provides orientation, as most of it took place outside the temple as well.  God in Jesus is present in places where [we] fail to look.” 

Quite frankly our religious sensibilities might be scandalized by the suggestion that women living in a shelter, veterans who are homeless, and others living on the margins of society because they do not meet the norms of society are more than people in need of healing.  These are also people and places where God is present.  God’s face can be seen in unexpected places and our role is to help others see that face.  Heaven and earth are much closer than we think.  I think it is Jesus who keeps reminding us that the kingdom of God is at hand.  Let’s open our eyes to the reality of God’s matrix, so that we might help the rest of the world to open their eyes as well.  Amen.