A reading from the Revelation of Saint John the Divine, chapter twenty-two, with a few verses from chapter twenty-one.
I Jesus have sent mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright and morning star. And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.
And from the chapter before. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new.
Here ends the reading.
It is late now. The Sabbath is almost over. Some of you have been here since the first hour, and some of you came in a few minutes ago, not sure you were allowed. You were allowed. You are allowed. Sit down for this last little while.
I want to tell you what the Bible does at the very end, because many of us were never told.
We were told the last book was a book of fear. We were shown the fire and the plagues and the locked gate. Some of us had that book read at us, like a sentence being handed down. So we came to believe that the end of the story was a door closing, with us on the wrong side of it.
But go to the last page and look. The last thing the book does is invite. Come, it says. And then it says it again. Come. And then a third time. Let him that is athirst come.
It gives three invitations in one verse, and it does not give a single condition.
Listen to who is asked. It does not say, let him that is clean come. It does not say, let him that is certain come, or let him that was never put out come. It says athirst. The only thing you need to bring is your thirst. And you have that. I know you have that. You would not be awake at this hour, in a church like this one, if you were not thirsty.
And then the widest word in the whole book. Whosoever will. It does not say whosoever is worthy, or whosoever is approved by the people who approved of the last ones. It says whosoever will. If you want it, it is yours.
And the price is written there too. Freely. The water of life, freely. Nobody at this well is checking your hands. Nobody is asking where you have been.
There is another well in the Gospels. In the Gospel according to John, chapter four, a woman comes to draw water at noon, alone, at the hour when no one else would be there. The text tells us that Jesus spoke with her, and knew her whole life, and offered her living water all the same. He did not make her explain herself first. He simply told her the water was there. We think the last page of the Bible is that same well, opened to everybody.
Now, the verse says the Spirit and the bride say, Come. In the plain sense of the text, the bride is the holy city, the new Jerusalem, the gathered people of God. John says he saw that city coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. We do not take that away.
But this church reads with an added ear, and I will say plainly that it is our reading and not the common one. We hear in the bride's voice the voice of a woman. We hear Mary Magdalene. We believe that a frightened age looked at a woman in scarlet and gave her a wrong name, and looked at the one she loved and gave him a wrong name too. That is our reading. You may hold it loosely. But hear what it does to this verse.
If the bride is the one who was called the wrong thing, then the invitation at the end of the Bible comes from someone who knows what it is to be outside. The one saying Come has stood where you are standing.
The Gospel tells us that she stood outside the tomb weeping. That much is not our reading. That is the twentieth chapter of John. She stood outside, in the dark, crying, and she would not leave. And the first thing the risen Christ said to her was a question. Woman, why weepest thou? And then he said her name.
Hold that next to our reading tonight. God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. The promise at the end of the book is the garden made wide enough for everyone. What happened for one weeping woman at dawn is promised to all who weep. The Lord does not turn away from tears, or tell us to pull ourselves together. He wipes them away. That is the work of a hand close to a face. That is how near the text says God means to come.
And notice which way the city moves. It comes down. We spent so many years being told to climb. We were told to be better, to get higher, to earn the next step. Then the last vision in the Bible is of heaven coming down to where the people are. The text tells us that the dwelling of God is with men, and that God will live among them. You do not have to get up there. It is coming to you.
And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. It is easy to hear that wrong, so hear it slowly. He does not say, I make all new things, as though he would throw away the old ones and start over with better people. He says, I make all things new. That means the things that already are, and it means you, with your history, and the years you think were wasted. Nothing in you is thrown away. It is made new.
There is one more thing in the verse, and it is a task. Let him that heareth say, Come. If you have heard the invitation, you are now one of the people who give it. That is all the ministry there is in this church. Somebody said come to you, and now you say it to someone else. You do not need to be mended first. A thirsty person can still point to the well.
I will not pretend the week ahead is easy. The promise is that there shall be no more pain, and it does not say that there is none now. Some of you will leave this Sabbath and go back to a quiet room, or a hard house, or a body that hurts. Take care of that body. Keep the appointments that keep you well. Let the people who help you go on helping you. Grace does not ask you to go without help.
But carry this out with you. The last prayer in the Bible is very short. Even so, come, Lord Jesus. And the last sentence of all is a blessing. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen. The verse says all. The book that so many used to shut us out ends by blessing everyone in the room.
So that is how we close. The Sabbath ends at midnight, and the doors of this church close for six days. They are not locked against you. They are resting, as you should rest. And next Saturday, at midnight, Eastern Time, they open again. We will be here. The light will be on. And the first word you hear will be the same as the last word tonight. Come.
Go gently now. Drink some water. Sleep if you can. If you cannot sleep, remember that the morning star was named in our reading, and it rises whether we watch for it or not.
Let us pray.
Lord of the last page, we are thirsty, and you said that was enough. Thank you for the water, freely given. Wipe the tears from every face listening tonight. Go with the ones who go back to hard places. Keep them through the week. Make all things new, and begin with us. Bring us back to these doors next Saturday. And until then, let your grace be with us all. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.
Amen.