The Divine Dare

Lectionary reflections for the Sixth Sunday of Easter (C)

By Michael Hopkins

Readings for Easter 6, Year C, May 16, 2004

Acts 16:9-15
Psalm 67
Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5
John 14:23-29 or John 5:1-9

Shall we gather at the river?

This is the question asked by one of my favorite hymns, a hymn inspired by the reading from Revelation for this Sunday. The answer to the question is the chorus of the hymn:

Yes, we'll gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river;

gather with the saints at the river that flows by the throne of God.

There are many ways to approach this question. Shall we gather at the river? Of course! It is a rhetorical question for Christians, isn't it? Perhaps, but I do believe God is still waiting for the answer. For the question is much more a challenge, a divine dare, if you will. The dare is not so much to enter the vision at the level of vision, which is a relatively easy thing to do. The dare is to make the vision real, “on earth as it is in heaven,” following the imagery of the Revelation vision, not with us ascending into an otherworldly heaven, but heaven descending to earth and transforming it, re-establishing Eden.

My favorite line of the hymn comes in the last verse: “soon our happy hearts will quiver with the melody of peace.” No matter how hard I try to live into a proper Episcopalian sense of decorum, my hands always find themselves in front of my chest, affecting a quivering heart.  

As amusing as this Victorian image is (Baptist pastor Robert Lowry wrote this hymn in 1864), it is, nevertheless, part of the divine dare. For in my comfortable suburban American context, I suspect for my heart to be possessed with the “melody of peace” ( shalom/salaam ) would, at the very least, cause some severe heart palpitations.  

The peace/security I have built around my life, and that my culture and country has built around its life, is built on the backs of many throughout the world, including my own community. For a relatively affluent and secure Christian like me to dream this dream of God is to play with fire. The “healing of the nations” will cost, for the playing field will have to be leveled.

The peace/security I have built around my life, and that my culture and country has built around its life, is built on the backs of many throughout the world, including my own community. For a relatively affluent and secure Christian like me to dream this dream of God is to play with fire. The “healing of the nations” will cost, for the playing field will have to be leveled.

Jesus tells us today that the Holy Spirit will “remind you of all that I have said to you.” We already need to be reminded of last week's command: “love one another as I have loved you.” It is interesting that this Sunday Jesus gives us peace (but not as the world gives it). Last week he commanded us to love. It seems to me he knew that love was a decision we would have to make over and over and over again, building the New Jerusalem brick by brick.  

When we choose to do so, peace is the gift he gives. But the demands of love – creating a world where there is no distinction among us as there is none with God – is enough to give us heart palpitations. But then, the palpitations may just be a first quivering of the melody of peace.

The Rev. Michael W. Hopkins is rector of St. George's Episcopal Church in Glenn Dale, Md., and is past president of Integrity . He is a Witness contributing editor, and may be reached by email at mwhopkins@comcast.net .