Pastor Scott Andrews | December 22, 2024
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Revelation 5:1-7
There is paradox in Christmas. The word paradox, as defined in Webster’s dictionary, is a person, situation or action that seems to have contradictory or inconsistent qualities. A seeming contradiction. The paradox or seeming contradiction in Christmas exists on at least three levels.
First, consider the paradox of Christmas in the world, that is, outside the church of Jesus Christ. The season is cheerfully celebrated, without doubt, the most popular holiday of the year – there’s not even really a close second. Almost everyone seems to get into the holiday festivities – religious and non-religious alike. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a believer, nominal church-goer, or irreligious person. Christmas comes, and unless you’re a Scrooge – you buy gifts, you receive gifts, you drink wassail, and you can even hum a few Christmas carols. At least Jingle Bells or Silver Bells, and perhaps even dream of a white Christmas.
The contradiction, of course, comes in the name itself – Christmas. Again, Webster defines Christmas as a holiday on Dec 25 celebrating the birth of Jesus. But the world hardly seems to notice, and those who do, don’t really care about a baby born over 2000 years ago.
In fact, it actually goes beyond not caring. While our world wants to celebrate Christmas in its own, secular way, at the same time, it actively opposes celebrating the true meaning of Christmas. Which is why, nativity scenes are banned in many government and civic properties in this Christian nation – separation of church and state, you know. Even though that same government building will be closed on Christmas day. That’s a paradox.
Christmas is a holiday to celebrate the birth of Christ – you can take the day off, you can put up a Christmas tree, you can exchange gifts – but you cannot acknowledge the birth of Jesus. Paradox. It’s the same reason you won’t find many, or any, religious carols sung in most school Christmas programs. But, how does one sing of Christmas without mentioning Christ? Paradox.
This paradox in the world was vividly demonstrated in a court battle that took place down in Florida several years ago, but the story is repeated almost annually in different locales. You see, Broward County sponsored their annual Holiday Fantasy of Lights. The two-mile festival takes place in a public park and draws thousands of people every year. Earlier that year, the county rejected Calvary Chapel’s proposal for the festival because of its religious message. Apparently, the church wanted to set up a booth displaying a prominent sign reading, Jesus is the Reason for the Season.
Attorneys for the church pointed out that Broward County officials had routinely permitted displays expressing a secular viewpoint of Christmas, while systematically excluding displays expressing a religious viewpoint. The church won the lawsuit; the booth was set up. But, you do understand – the county wanted to celebrate Christmas – but it couldn’t be done with Christ. That is a paradox.
By the way, this year’s Christmas conflict – I say this year’s, because there seems to be one every year – but this year’s conflict was in the Minnesota state capital building. Apparently, a group of satanists were granted a permit to display satanic symbols right across from the Christmas tree. The permit is valid through this Friday, December 27.
Well, the paradox exists out there in the world. But it may also exist in the church. What do I mean? We know the true meaning of Christmas. We know it’s a holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus. We know Jesus is the reason for the season. But just how much do we allow the commercialism of the season to infiltrate the church? Hear me – I’m not opposed to exchanging gifts or Christmas trees – we have one. But my question is – how much of the world’s celebration and how much of the church’s celebration gets our attention. That is, does the celebration of the birth of Christ get as much attention in our church and in our homes, as does annual gift-giving and Santa Claus? It’s a question only you can answer – and it may present a seeming contradiction, a paradox, to those who observe – neighbors, extended family members, even our own children.
There is a third level in which Christmas enjoys a paradox – and that is within the very pages of Scripture. What do I mean? While the world celebrates the birth of a babe in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, that’s as far as they take it. A baby doesn’t present much of a challenge – there’s not much accountability. But we know the Scripture makes it clear Jesus didn’t stay a baby to be celebrated just at Christmas – you know, pull out the little porcelain baby and set Him up in the Nativity scene – only to pack Him away after New Year’s for another year. I trust you don’t do that – because the joy He came to bring at Christmas can be yours year-round.
But here’s the paradox. As Christians we know Jesus didn’t accomplish His purposes just by being born – wrapping Himself in human flesh. Jesus’ birth, by itself, did not accomplish the redemption of humankind. You see, that wasn’t the end of the story. We know Christmas was just the beginning – that it commenced a life of perfect obedience that would culminate in the cross and resurrection. The truth is, while the gospel narratives – especially Matthew and Luke, record the circumstances of His birth, the Scripture places an overwhelming emphasis on the death of Christ. You see, the birth of Christ takes about 2% of the gospels, while His last week, takes a full third of the story. The emphasis is on His death.
But, to die, He must take on flesh – we call it the incarnation. And so, we celebrate His birth, knowing that He came to give His subsequent life as a ransom for many. He only took on human flesh to give that human flesh. That, in itself, is a paradox. To be sure, an angel appeared before a group of shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night, and said, “I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.” It certainly sounded like celebration time – a holiday event. I mean, the shepherds seemed to take the night off.
But again, His birth, promised by the Father, foretold by prophets, longed for by God’s people, announced by angels, confirmed by wise men was only the beginning. It began a life that would end, paradoxically, in His cruel death. It’s a long way from a manger in Bethlehem to a cross in Jerusalem. But, we celebrate His birth which leads to His death. So how is it that we, as followers of Christ, celebrate on Christmas? It’s not a trick question. Of course, we celebrate Christmas knowing that Easter is coming. We know, without His coming and going to the cross, there would be no salvation, no forgiveness of sin, no eternal life. If the Son of God simply became the Son of Man without dying for our sins, we would be most hopeless. But the King of kings, the Lord of lords, God Himself, the Creator, emptied Himself, and gave Himself for us. So, we celebrate, paradoxically so.
This wonderful yet seemingly contradictory picture is painted beautifully for us in Revelation chapter 5. You may have never thought of this as a Christmas text. But it displays the paradox. Read it with me, Revelation 5. Read through verse 5.
Let’s stop right there. Let’s take a little time to look at this. I’m not going to give you an outline as I typically do. I simply want you to consider for a moment this paradoxical portrait before us.
The Apostle John, the beloved disciple, the brother of James, the sons of Zebedee – is the author of this book. If you’ve been here, you know we studied Revelation a couple years ago. At this time, John has been exiled to the Island of Patmos under the reign of the Roman Emperor Domitian. There was a fairly widespread persecution against Christianity in the late first century that had caught the apostle in its grip. He’s an old man by now – tradition tells us all the other apostles, including Paul, have been martyred. John alone remains. You see, God had kept him alive because there was one final book to be written for the canon of Scripture.
John titled his work for us in the book’s first verse – it is the revelation of Jesus Christ. We have a tendency to think of Revelation as purely prophetic which gives us a glimpse of the future, confusing as it may be. But, while it is a book of prophecy, John says it is also a book which gives multi-faceted pictures of Jesus. There is much in this book that clearly proclaims the identity and deity of Jesus Christ? Well, the first picture is revealed on earth, as John sees a magnificent view of Jesus, clothed in a robe reaching to His feet, with a golden sash across His chest. His head and hair were white like wool, like snow, and His eyes were like flames of fire. His feet were like burnished bronze, His voice like the sound of many waters. In His right hand, He held seven stars, and out of His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword. And His face shone like the sun in all its strength. That is a magnificent picture. A paradoxical picture – a bit different from the baby Jesus you have in your nativities.
Then, Jesus spoke, I am the first and the last, the living One, the One who was dead, but alive forevermore – the One who has the keys of death and Hades. He is also the head of the church, and as such, He came to deliver seven messages to the seven churches of Asia Minor. After receiving those messages, John sees another picture of the exalted Christ – this one not on earth, but in heaven. We’re told at the beginning of chapter 4 that John was in the Spirit and transported to heaven. There, the first image to greet his eyes is that of a throne, and One sitting on the throne. He describes the scene us in verses 3ff of chapter 4 – look at it with me.
3 And He who was sitting was like a jasper stone and a sardius in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne, like an emerald in appearance.
4 And around the throne were twenty-four thrones; and upon the thrones I saw twenty-four elders sitting, clothed in white garments, and golden crowns on their heads.
5 And from the throne proceed flashes of lightning and sounds and peals of thunder. And there were seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God;
6 and before the throne there was, as it were, a sea of glass like crystal; and in the center and around the throne, four living creatures full of eyes in front and behind.
7 And the first creature was like a lion, and the second creature like a calf, and the third creature had a face like that of a man, and the fourth creature was like a flying eagle.
8 And the four living creatures, each one of them having six wings, are full of eyes around and within; and day and night they do not cease to say, “HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, is THE LORD GOD, THE ALMIGHTY, WHO WAS AND WHO IS AND WHO IS TO COME.”
9 And when the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to Him who sits on the throne, to Him who lives forever and ever,
10 the twenty-four elders will fall down before Him who sits on the throne, and will worship Him who lives forever and ever, and will cast their crowns before the throne, saying,
11 “Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and because of Your will they existed, and were created.”
Make no mistake about it – the picture painted is one of majesty and power and glory and honor. It is meant to inspire awe and wonder. It’s a little different than the picture painted in Luke 2 at the nativity – we have no record of winged creatures there, despite what your nativity sets display. The only creatures, there, we suppose, were ox and a donkey – at least that’s what the Christmas hymns tell us. And there were no elders seated on thrones – there were only lowly shepherds. Make no mistake about it – the scene has now changed dramatically.
Which brings us to our text for today. As John is looking at the throne, overwhelmed by all he sees, he notices a book in the right hand of Him who was sitting on the throne. It’s literally on the right hand, as if God is holding the book in an open palm, ready for someone to take and open it. John gives great detail about the book – it’s a scroll, actually, rolled up, and from his vantage point, John can see that it has writing on both sides. Not unheard of, but unusual, and speaks of a lot of material. Not only that, the scroll is sealed with seven seals. It’s secure.
Now, we’re not told what the book is. Most suggest, I agree, this is a heavenly book containing God’s redemptive plan and the future of God’s creation, to include coming judgments. When you read the rest of the book, this makes sense, as you go through the seven seal judgments, seven trumpet judgments, seven bowl judgments followed by the battle between the forces of evil and God, the second coming of Christ, the judgment, and the new heavens and the new earth. While the book isn’t technically the book of Revelation, it does contain God’s plan of judgment and redemption.
So, John is somehow aware, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, that the book is very important. In fact, we find the culmination of the ages, the grand finale of all time bound up in that book. If the conclusion of time is to come, if the purposes of God are to be fulfilled, if the redemption of humanity is to be complete, that book must be opened. John suddenly feels deeply a sense of urgency. The book must be opened and read.
You see, if there was no chapter 5, there would be no ultimate wrath poured out on unbelieving creation – and further, there would be no redemption of His believing people. That’s what the book is about – God bringing to ultimate glorious end, judgment and wrath, redemption and renewal. If there was no chapter 5, we would simply live on in our rebellion in a fallen and terribly broken world – with only the prospect of divine eternal wrath following death. All would go on hopelessly as it has since the Fall in the Garden with no hope of redemption.
So, John hears a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the book and to break its seals.” This time, the announcement not to lowly shepherds as they kept their flocks by night, but to a lowly fisherman, by the grace of God, as he stood before the throne of God in the very heavens. Imagine the scene – it has changed dramatically. We are post-birth, life, death, resurrection – even ascension of Jesus Christ. What now?
Who is worthy to open the book and to break the seals? A thorough search is made throughout heaven and earth – and no one was found worthy to open the book and look into it. While all angels are strong, this one is identified as an especially strong angel, which perhaps speaks of his higher authority – like Michael or Gabriel, the archangels. Why did he have to be strong? Because the question he asks must be heard everywhere.
The question, of course, is who is worthy to take the book and open the seals? Notice, the issue is not that of power or strength, but of worth. We’re not looking for someone strong to wrest the book from God’s right hand of power and authority. Certainly no being is strong enough to take a book from the omnipotent God – that’s not the point. Who is worthy enough to take the book – that’s the question.
A quick search is conducted. “And no one in heaven or on the earth or under the earth was able – that is, worthy enough – to open the book and look into it.” There was no one in heaven, that is, not an angelic being – not the cherubim, not the seraphim, even a strong angel like archangels Gabriel or Michael – who was worthy enough to open the book.
A search was made among the living on earth – and none was found worthy there: not the most powerful ruler, not the president or any dictator, not any person of wealth or influence or power or celebrity status, not any noble no matter how noble, not any religious leader from the pope on his throne or the mightiest of orators or greatest of spiritual leaders, not even the lowest of the low, the most humble, the most serving, the most self-effacing. No one was found worthy among the living.
No problem, let’s go under the earth – that is, to the place of the dead. Certainly some great and noble person of the past will suffice. Nope. Not Abraham or the patriarchs, not Moses, not Elijah, not Elisha, not David, none of the great prophets, not even Peter or Paul, who were under the earth by this time. A complete search is made – the voice of the strong angel was loud – and no one was found worthy to take the book. At this point, John is drawing us to an inevitable conclusion. Humanity is lost and without hope. God’s purposes in redemption will not – cannot be met. The book of history, culminating in the rescue of His people, is impenetrable. One commentator writes, “There is a breathless sense of anticipation that is dashed when no one is available to open the seals of the scroll.” Another writes, “Theologically this shows how futile and meaningless all of history is apart from Christ. Human destiny, and that of the universe, hinges on the person and work of Jesus.” John is building a case here of the inescapable necessity of the Son of God. All of creation faces this awful dilemma – John, sensing deep despair, begins to weep greatly. The plan and purposes of God, which include John’s redemption, are about to come to a screeching halt. Sense the infinite drama.
But suddenly, one of the 24 elders seated on the 24 thrones surrounding the throne say to John, “Stop weeping: [the search has been successful – we have found One, only One, worthy – all is not lost – salvation comes] behold, the Lion that is from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has overcome so as to open the book and its seven seals.” Look at that description with me:
First, He is the Lion of the tribe of Judah. That is a fulfillment of a prophecy found way back in Genesis 49. There, Jacob, from his deathbed, is blessing his twelve sons who would become the twelve tribes of Israel. Of Judah, he said, “Judah is a lion’s whelp; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He crouches, he lies down as a lion, and as a lion, who dares to rouse him up? The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes.” This passage came to be seen, rightly, as a Messianic prophecy. The Messiah would come from the tribe of Judah as a lion.
The lion, the king of the beasts, has forever been seen as a beast of royalty. Many different kings and rulers used the lion as their symbol of royal strength. Solomon, the son of David, had a throne constructed at the top of a raised platform. There were six steps leading to the throne – twelve golden lions, one on each end, adorned the steps. Beside each arm of the throne, there were two more lions.
Jesus, of course, is the fulfillment of the Jacob’s messianic prophecy. He is the lion of the tribe of Judah, made famous, among other ways, in C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia. The Christ-figure in the wonderful allegory is Aslan, the lion, evoking emotions of awe and wonder and power and strength and majesty and fear, all at one time. He is Jesus, the lion of the tribe of Judah, and He, and He alone of all creation, is worthy to open the book. How so? He has overcome. He has lived a victorious and perfect sinless life – He has died, but been raised by the power of God from the dead. He has overcome to open the book.
Not only is He the lion of Judah, He is also the root of Jesse. If you know your Old Testament, you know the Messiah to come would be a descendent of David – and He would sit on David’s throne forever. That was prophesied, among other places, in II Samuel 7, or the root of Jesse from Isaiah 11. So, look at the genealogy of Jesus in Matthew 1, Luke 3 – you’ll find it goes through David – Jesus is the root of David.
So we have the scene – John has heard the announcement of the angel. He turns, presumably, to see this lion – this powerful lion of strength and majesty and glory who has prevailed. Look at what he sees, Revelation chapter 5, verses 6 and 7.
John turns to see a lion, and finds a lamb. But not just any lamb, a lamb as it had been slain. The word is literally slaughtered. Remember, this is after the crucifixion – this is after the resurrection and glorious ascension. Jesus has been glorified – returned to Him is the glory He shared with the Father before the world began. And now, in His risen, glorified, ascended state – the Son of God – the lion of the tribe of Judah, appears as the slain lamb of God – the lamb who takes away the sin of the world by being slain. That, my brothers and sisters, is the paradox of Christmas. We cannot, we must not leave Him as a baby in a manger, but as a lamb slain.
One author calls it the most beautiful mixed metaphor in the Bible – the lion and the lamb. What are we to make of this? The ironic contrast is breathtaking – literally, sucks the wind right out of our lungs. It is not at all what we expect, and not the way we would have written the script – not the way you would have conquered. You would have conquered by the death of the enemy, not the death of the hero. And yet, we have the Lamb standing as if slain. Jesus is referred to as the Lamb 28 times in this book. The Lamb is central – not the Lion, the Lamb.
Which brings us to the significant irony of the picture. Jesus overcomes not by military might, not by sword, although that is coming, but by sacrifice. He overcomes, not by mauling His opponents, but by giving His life for sinners. Right now, Jesus is the Victor, but His victory came through sacrifice. The paradox of Christmas. This is the way of the Christian faith – the cross before the crown, suffering and sacrifice before life, humiliation before exaltation.
He is no longer a baby in a manger. He is no longer the man wrapped in human flesh and dwelling for a while among us – He is the risen Savior, the lion of the tribe of Judah who has prevailed to open the book – all the while, forever, bearing in His risen body the marks of the price He paid for our redemption. The paradox of a Merry Christmas is that Jesus is both a lion, our awesome God… and a lamb, our wonderful Savior. So, celebrate this week – celebrate with all you have, with all your worth – and remember Who we celebrate.
And remember this too, the last picture John receives of Jesus in the book is when Jesus comes, no longer as a baby, but as a lion, as King of kings and Lord of lords to execute final judgment, and as a lamb, to receive the church for which He paid with His own blood. So we should end this morning by reading the rest of Revelation 5:8ff.
Worthy is the Lamb that was slain. The Lamb is worthy not because of might or power, or even moral strength, but because He was slaughtered, murdered, butchered. That’s not typically how we consider worth. What is our measure of worth? Power, might, wealth, influence, status, economic or ruling power. Worthy is the Lamb that was slain – who lost everything – the implication is He is worthy through His sacrificial death.
Notice again why He is worthy to take the book, “for You were slain [and in doing so] purchased for God with Your blood men from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” You purchased or ransomed or redeemed, you paid a price to buy freedom from slavery. We were purchased from the slave market of sin. The price? By His blood.
To Him who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb, be blessing and honor and glory and dominion forever. What else can be the response to the One who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb, who purchased us, redeemed us by His blood. One commentator writes, “Just the thought that the lion becomes the slain lamb that becomes the conquering ram is enough to keep us on our knees for the rest of our lives.” Celebrate Christmas, but remember who Jesus is.