Time to Live

How long? How short. So live each day the daily way, trusting in God above (Matt 6:11, 6:34).

Forgive, forget; release your debts (Matt 6:12), living in step with the Helper (Gal 5:22–26).

The Clock of Life
(Robert H. Smith)

The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one’s wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one’s health is more,
To lose one’s soul is such a loss
That no man can restore.

The present only is our own,
So live, love, toil with a will,
Place no faith in “Tomorrow”
For the clock may then be still.

Advertisement

Art Intimates Scripture: In the Winter of ‘The American Four Seasons’

24:₃₆ “Now, concerning that day and hour, no one knows—not even the angels of heaven, and not even the Son—except the Father alone. ₃₇ For as the days of Noah, so will be the Parousia of the Son of Man. ₃₈ For as in those days before the Flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark ₃₉ —and they did not realize until the Flood came and carried them all away. So will be the Parousia of the Son of Man. ₄₀ At that time, two men will be in the field: one is received and one is disregarded. ₄₁ Two women will be grinding in the mill: one is received and one is disregarded.”¹

What follows below is strictly my own interpretation and application of Philip Glass’ Violin Concerto No. 2, aka The American Four Seasons. But the composer explicitly welcomes such individual interpretation:

[Robert McDuffie’s] interpretation, though similar to my own, proved to be also somewhat different. This struck me as an opportunity, then, for the listener to make his/her own interpretation. Therefore, there will be no instructions for the audience, no clues as to where Spring, Summer, Winter, and Fall might appear in the new concerto—an interesting, though not worrisome, problem for the listener. After all, if Bobby and I are not in complete agreement, an independent interpretation can be tolerated and even welcomed.²

A bit of background information is necessary to explain my interpretation/application. The concerto is composed in eight parts, with a prologue preceding the first movement, and each succeeding movement preceded by a song:

Prologue
Movement I
Song No. 1
Movement II
Song No. 2
Movement III
Song No. 3
Movement IV

The Prologue and songs are short solo violin pieces. In contrast, the movements incorporate the ensemble. The Prologue, then, serves as a prelude to Movement I, while the songs function as interludes bridging each Movement.

In view of its overall structure, each Movement correlates to one of the four seasons. It seems best to conceive these seasons as proceeding in order beginning with spring, then summer, fall, and winter. Thus far, this is fairly straightforward.

Digressing just a bit while providing additional context, I must say I really like this piece. I think it is fairly accessible, even to the Classical music hesitant (or Classical music “purist” put off by ‘minimalism’). Movement I may be the most ear-pleasing. The slower and more melancholic Movement II features some achingly beautiful moments, after which it segues into its waltz section—my favorite part of the concerto. The up-tempo Movement III lifts the mood of II, and its quasi-harpsichord accompaniment and occasional flourishes—played on a synthesizer—merges the past with the contemporary. Movement IV is the fastest and musically the ‘busiest’ of them all:

I interpret these movements as indicating segments of time in chronology—as opposed to literal seasons of a calendar year. As such, Movement I correlates to the birth of the USA and each successive Movement relates to subsequent time periods. Movement IV, then, represents the time period we are currently living within. The American Empire is in the winter of its existence.

The winter of America seems to be moving exponentially faster than previous seasons. Notice how Movement IV’s tempo quickens sharply, almost chaotically, just before it abruptly ends. I interpret that as analogous to the USA’s forthcoming demise.

Interestingly, Movement IV is seven minutes long. Just before its halfway mark it slows a bit, briefly pausing altogether before beginning anew. It returns to the original tempo, yet as it begins to decrease instrumentation, it appears to slow a bit. Following that, the full ensemble reenters. The violin plays faster arpeggios (the overall tempo remaining the same), until the tempo rapidly increases and the violinist speeds his bowing to match. Then the end.

Though the concerto was written specifically for Robert McDuffie (and it was premiered with this violinist featured), the above was performed by violinist Gidon Kremer and his Kremerata Baltica ensemble. In the liner notes for this release, new seasons, Kremer remarks:

The subject of seasons in music has always interested me and has become the focus of a number of my recordings and concert programs . . . Why the seasons? Why “new seasons”? As an artist I’ve always tried to keep in step with the times. Time and seasons are virtually synonymous.³

In the Greek of the New Testament, “time” is chronos, while “season” (or “appointed/proper time”) is kairos. The latter term, kairos (as opposed to chronos), is used when referring to Jesus’ Parousia—His return to usher in the end of all things. [See Not One Parousia, But Two.] For example, kairos is found twice in the Parable of the Tenants (21:34 and 21:41). And the term is found just after the section of Scripture beginning this post:

24:₄₂ “Therefore, be alert, because you do not know on what day our Lord is coming. ₄₃ But be certain of this: If the owner of the house had known which segment of nighttime the thief was coming, he would have been alert and would not have let his house be broken into. ₄₄ Considering this, you must also be ready, because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

₄₅ “Who then is the faithful and wise servant whom his master has put in charge of his household—the one giving them nourishment in season [kairos]? ₄₆ Blessed is that servant whom his master finds so doing when he comes! ₄₇ Amen I say to you that he will put him in charge of all his possessions. ₄₈ But if that wicked servant should say in his heart, ‘My lord delays’ . . .”

How long till the closing of this American winter season I will not venture or dare to predict.  Yet I do suspect the end of the empire will come near the end of it all, though, again, I will not hazard a guess as to timing (concerning that day and hour, no one knows . . . except the Father alone). But I want to be ready, no matter the case.

Only time will tell in this season. Sadly, most will continue “eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage”, oblivious to the coming wrath.

Let’s endeavor to keep each other alert.

_____________________________

¹ After exegeting this passage, I consulted a few commentaries, especially regarding vv. 40 and 41. Some attempt to read too much into the context, construing 39’s ēren (“carried away” [some translate “taken away”, neglecting other nuances in the term]) as parallel to paralambanetai (“is received” [“is taken”, by many]) in 40 and 41, thereby concluding both refer to judgment. But this is clearly incorrect. 24:31 illustrates that the Son of Man sends His angels to “gather His elect” at His Parousia. This ‘gathering’ is what is referred to in paralambanetai in both 40 and 41. This is why I contrast “received” with “disregarded” in 40 and 41. One is “received” as part of the elect, the other is “disregarded” and s/he will be among those who will mourn (24:30). One is received as a child of God, the other is disregarded just as s/he disregarded the Son of Man. Donald A. Hagner (Matthew 14–28, WBC [Dallas, TX: Word Books, 1995]) is a fount of clarity here (24:40–41): “Presumably, those who are “taken” [ED: or “received”] are among the elect whom the angels of the Son of Man are to gather at his coming (v 31), while those who are left await the prospect of judgment. The application of these verses is made clear in the exhortation that follows” (p 720).

² Taken from “NOTES” tab here: Philip Glass recordings: Violin Concerto No. 2 – The American Four Seasons 2010.

³ Liner notes to Gidon Kremer | Kremerata Baltica, new seasons (Glass, Pärt, Kancheli, Umebayashi), 00289 479 4817, © 2015 Deutsche Grammophon, GmbH, Berlin.

One Composer’s Conception of Time

“I saw a mighty angel descending from heaven, clad in a cloud, having a rainbow upon his head. His face was like the sun, his feet like pillars of fire. He placed his right foot on the sea, his left foot on the land; and, supporting himself on the sea and the land, he raised his hand heavenward and swore by the One Who lives forever and ever, saying: ‘There shall be no more time, but in the day of the trumpet of the seventh angel the mystery of God shall be consummated.’”

– Apocalypse of St. John, 10:1–2, 5–7¹

So begins Olivier Messiaen’s preface to his Quartet for the End of Time (Quatuor pour las Fin du Temps). We might call it the prologue or the prelude to his preface, for this excerpt from Revelation (aka Apocalypse of Jesus Christ) provides the sole inspiration for the entire piece.

The quartet here is unusual in that it is not the typical string quartet (two violins, viola, and cello), instead consisting of piano, violin, cello, and clarinet. Messiaen finished composing this chamber music work while imprisoned during World War II. A sympathetic guard provided the needed materials for the captive composer. Quartet for the End of Time premiered in Stalag VIII-A in Görlitz, Germany (modern day Zgorzelec, Poland).

In his preface he describes how the composition’s “musical language” evokes time, timelessness, and eternity:

Certain modes, realizing melodically and harmonically a kind of tonal ubiquity, draw the listener into a sense of the eternity of space or infinity. Particular rhythms existing outside the measure contribute importantly toward the banishment of temporalities. (All this remains mere striving and stammering if one ponders upon the overwhelming grandeur of the subject!)²

By “[p]articular rhythms existing outside the measure” the composer means irregular rhythms; in some sections the number of beats per bar (measure) varies. In the first movement, for example, one instrument is assigned notes/chords to be played at specific intervals, while another is given different notes to be played at different intervals.³ Such intermixing represents “the banishment of temporalities”.⁴ These musical effects express time nearing its end, after which it will segue into eternity, according to the composer.

The composition consists of eight movements, two of which center on Christ. The first of these, the much-lauded fifth movement, is titled “Praise to the Eternity of Jesus”. The composer explains:

Jesus is here considered as one with the Word [Logos]. A long phrase, infinitely slow, by the cello magnifies with love and reverence on the eternality of the powerful and gentle Word, “whose years will never cease.” Majestically, the melody unfolds at a sort of distance, both tender and supreme: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

As I understand the composer, he appears to recognize that the earthly Jesus (the Word become flesh) preexisted as the Word. That is, there is continuity in the ‘Person’ of “the Word” and the Person of Jesus Christ. At the same time, then, he seems to correctly recognize that Jesus is coextensive with the Word only at the point of the Incarnation. Before that point in time the Word was not with flesh, and the Word was simply “the Word”.

Thus, while the Word eternally exists, Jesus has a beginning in time—at the instant of Incarnation, at the Conception of the Virginal Birth. In other words, though the Word exists eternally, the Word began a new mode of existence at the Incarnation—as Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ—which did not alter His eternality. Stated another way, the Word has unbounded eternality; comparatively, Jesus Christ has bounded eternality—bounded at the moment of the Virginal Conception, when the Word took human nature unto Himself (see An Eternal Christological Conundrum).

The second movement exalting Jesus Christ is the final (eighth) one: “Praise to the Immortality of Jesus.”

Expansive violin solo as counterpart to the cello solo of the fifth movement. Why this second eulogy? It addresses itself more specifically to the second aspect of Jesus—to Jesus the man, to the Word made flesh, resurrected immortal in order to share His life with us. It is total love. Its slow ascent towards the highest pitch is the ascension of man towards his God, of the child of God towards his Father, of the divinized creature towards paradise.

In keeping with his Roman Catholic faith, it seems likely the composer has in mind Athanasius, whose words were revised a bit to become the pithy aphorism “God became man so that man could become God”. That Messiaen understood this not as a full-on capital ‘D’ Deification seems evident in the last sentence above, especially the French créature divinisée. This retains the Creator-creature distinction, for a creature cannot truly become “Divinized”—capital ‘D’. The created cannot become just like the Creator. That would be oxymoronic. We are ‘partakers of the Divine nature’ (2Peter 1:4), not wholly Deity, God.⁵

Coming full circle, one last aspect of Messiaen’s preface commands our attention: his translation/interpretation of time in the prologue/prelude. A quick search of various English translations finds quite a variety in Revelation 10:6. Of this, the composer states:

“There are people who understand [the Biblical passage as] ‘there will be no more delay.’ That’s not it. [Instead it is] ‘there will be no more Time’ with a capital ‘T’; that is to say, there will be no more space, there will be no more time. One leaves the human dimension with cycles and destiny to rejoin eternity. So, I finally wrote this quartet dedicating it to this angel who declared the end of Time.”⁶

His is an interesting interpretation. As for the translation, Messiaen is technically correct. Let’s look at the Greek (transliterated):

Hoti chronos ouketi estai
That time no-longer will-be
That time will be no longer
That time will no longer be
That there will be time no longer
That there will be no more time

The first Greek word, hoti, can be understood as “that”, followed by a statement, in narrative form, of what someone had said. Or it can be construed as the beginning of a quotation, as Messiaen construes it, along with a few English translations. Messiaen goes a bit further, though, by prefacing this statement by the angel with “saying” (French: disant), which is not in the Greek. The composer also capitalizes “Time” (French: Temps).

Those versions that render this either as a quotation of the angel as “There will be no more delay” or the narrator’s reporting of what the angel had said as that there will be no more delay are making interpretive decisions based on the larger context. It is beyond the scope of this blog post to go into more detail, but the reader is free to make any comment on this.

The composer follows the words accompanying movement VIII—and thus concludes his preface—with the same words he had used parenthetically earlier in the preface, this time without the parentheses: All this remains mere striving and stammering if one ponders upon the overwhelming grandeur of the subject!

In sum, Messiaen offers an intriguing take on the Revelation 10 passage, which then functions as a basis for his unique conception of time musically, as realized in his chamber music piece Quatuor pour las Fin du Temps (Quartet for the End of Time). That this piece was conceived and completed while a WWII captive makes it perhaps all the more intriguing.

___________________________

¹ As translated from Olivier Messiaen’s French, with the assistance of various online helps.

² Again, as translated from Messiaen’s French, though comparing with the English translation in the CD  liner notes of RCA Victor Gold Seal (reissue of original 1976 RCA Red Seal), MESSIAEN Quatuor pour la Fin de Temps, Tashi (Peter Serkin, Ida Kavafian, Fred Sherry, Richard Stoltzman), 7835-2-RG, BMG Classics, © 1988 BMG Music. The translation in the above text above differs, e.g., in “the eternity of space or infinity” as compared to liner notes’ “the eternity of space or time” (the French is infini), and in “if one ponders upon” as compared to “if one compares it to” (French is songe à). The rest of the translations follow similar methodology.

³ See Lawrence University’s Gene Biringer’s “Analysis” tab here: I. Liturgie de cristal. Also, under the “Musical Elements” tab the author writes: [Heterophonic texture] can also describe certain polyphonic textures, like that of the first movement of Messiaen’s Quartet, in which there is no discernable relationship among some of the parts . . .  the violin and clarinet parts, which are meant to evoke birdsong, are so independent of the cello part and, especially, the homophonic piano part that they seem to occupy a wholly different sonic world . . . here four characters are speaking simultaneously, unresponsive and perhaps even oblivious to the others. Instead of a harmonious counterpoint between independent but related melodies, we hear a juxtaposition of seemingly unrelated ideas – a true heterophony.

⁴ For further—and better—explanation, see Peter Gutmann’s Classical Notes site, particularly here.

⁵ See Roman Catholic Catechism 460.

⁶ As quoted from the Lawrence University site (see Biblical Source tab) as found in Rebecca Rischin, For the End of Time: The Story of the Messiaen Quartet (New York, NY: Cornell University Press, 2003), p 51.

An Eternal Christological Conundrum

Though I don’t recall the source offhand, I remember reading that many pastors, preachers, and expositors are afraid to discuss the Trinity and Christology. They’re concerned about confusing congregations and readers. They’re concerned about misspeaking and, as a consequence, being branded a heretic.

And we’re all the poorer for it. The object of our faith—Jesus Christ, our Savior—gets short shrift. This results in audiences not conceiving the full grandeur of His Person. Some reduce the Divine Savior to the merely human. Conversely, some exalt Christ so highly they Deify His humanity. In this post we will focus on one aspect of the latter.

To this end, first, we’ll provide a brief definition of God, centering on His attributes. God is omnipotent (all-powerful), omniscient (all-knowing), and omnipresent (all-present, everywhere at once). I think Thomas V. Morris provides the most succinct statement on the interrelationships and interworkings of these three attributes:

Perhaps the best understanding of the attribute of omnipresence is that of its being the property of being present everywhere in virtue of knowledge of [omniscience] and power over [omnipotence] any and every spatially located object [creation].¹

Next, we’ll provide a framework for God’s mode of existence as compared to ours.

Time is an aspect of the created order. Yet God is transcendent, existing in the eternal realm, outside time and creation. There is no physicality in the eternal realm.

God, as a spirit Being (John 4:24), is not bound or impacted by the physical or time limits of creation and, thus, has the ability to interact with and within the created order. God lords over creation.² He transcends time, creation’s necessary constituent.

But what is eternity, the eternal realm? And how does time, with its chronological series of events—the past, the ever-fleeting present, and the future—relate to eternity? Do the two intersect in any way? I have found no better explanation, and no better basis for exploration, than the words of Lewis Sperry Chafer:

…Whatever time may be and whatever its relation to eternity, it must be maintained that no cessation of eternity has occurred or will.  God’s mode of existence remains unchanged.  Time might be thought of as something superimposed upon eternity were it not that there is ground for question whether eternity consists of a succession of events, as is true of time.  The consciousness of God is best conceived as being an all-inclusive comprehension at once, covering all that has been or will be.  The attempt to bring time with its successions into a parallel with eternity is to misconceive the most essential characteristic of eternal things.³

This seems right to me. We cannot think of chronological order in eternity. We cannot impose our temporal thinking of past, present and future onto the eternal realm. We cannot impose temporality upon eternality.

Temporality can be conceived as akin to a number line. We can metaphorically place ourselves at an ever-moving zero for the ever-fleeting present time, while construing events left of zero (negative numbers) as the past, and events to the right (positive numbers) as the future.

Since our finite minds cannot conceive eternality, it would be impossible to construct any sort of analogy with any level of confidence. However, for the sake of simplicity, let’s consider it like the symbol for infinity, in the sense of being boundless or endless.

There is no beginning and no ending. Once you are metaphorically on the infinity loop—in the eternal realm—there is no past and no future. You will find no beginning and no end. There is no time, unless you wish to call it the eternal present. But I think even that distorts the reality, since it includes a time element. Perhaps better: once in the eternal realm you simply exist.

God is metaphorically on the infinity loop. God has unbounded eternality. By contrast, all those granted eternal life have bounded eternality. They are bounded at the point of entry. ‘After’ that (it’s difficult to refrain from temporal references!), they enjoy the same unbounded eternality as God.

Using the above framework, we can now discuss the Eternal-temporal: the Divine-human Person of Christ.

Starting with the Definition worked out at the Council of Chalcedon, we affirm—as the totality of Scripture demonstrates—that Jesus was/is fully God and fully human, possessing both a Divine nature and a human nature. This doctrine logically entails one important aspect: From our temporal perspective, Christ’s humanity began at a point in time (Virginal Conception).

On the other hand, His Deity is eternal, with no beginning and no end—no temporality. Accordingly, His Divine nature has unbounded eternality.

To keep things as simple as possible, we’ll borrow John the Gospel writer’s terminology. The Word, the Logos, was with God in the beginning, and the Word was God; the Word existed as God (John 1:1-2). The Word was the agent of all creation, for all things came to be—all things came into existence—through the Word (John 1:3). Then the eternal Word became the Eternal-temporal Word-made-flesh (John 1:14), i.e., Jesus Christ (John 1:17).

Putting this in temporal perspective, prior to year zero—the dividing line between BC (before Christ) and AD (anno Domini = “in the year of our Lord”)—the Word existed with no flesh. At year zero the Word acquired human flesh, instantaneously culminating in the Person of Jesus Christ, the Divine-human, the God-man. This begins the Incarnation (John 1:14). At that point the Divine Word became forever hypostatically united with human flesh.

Taking the previous paragraph and simplifying it, we could illustrate from a temporal perspective:

The Word w/out flesh > the Word w/flesh

Strictly speaking, the Word w/out flesh is not Jesus; Jesus is the Word w/flesh. That is, in the verbiage depicted in John 1:1-3 the Word could not have had flesh, for this describes pre-creation (John 1:1-2), followed by the creation event (John 1:3). At this point, clearly, the Word had no flesh and, thus, cannot rightly be called Jesus. We can certainly state, “Jesus had a pre-incarnate existence as the Word.” That is, there is continuity in the Person.

With this understanding, we would have to agree that Jesus Christ, aka the Word with flesh, has bounded eternality—bound at the moment of the Virginal Conception. To deny this is to unduly exalt Jesus to the point that He is super-human—in violation of Chalcedon. Correspondingly, we would have to affirm that the Word w/out flesh has unbounded eternality, in keeping with the “fully God” portion of Chalcedon.

Some might object that such strong distinctions illustrate the heresy of Nestorianism. But not necessarily. We can affirm that the Word with flesh, aka Jesus, has unbounded eternality in virtue of His Divine nature—which has existed and will continue to exist eternally, of course. Simultaneously, we can affirm that the Word with flesh, aka Jesus, has bounded eternality in virtue of His human nature—bound at the point of the Virginal Conception.

Yet, from an eternal perspective, it could be argued that the Word has always existed with flesh (cf. Revelation 13:8; 17:8). This would fully take into account Chafer’s statement, “The consciousness of God is best conceived as being an all-inclusive comprehension at once, covering all that has been or will be.” By extension, we might think that every true Christian has always been seated in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 2:6). But might that call into question free will (cf. Revelation 3:5)? I suggest we not try to sit on God’s Throne, that we not attempt to ponder from an eternal perspective. Let’s stick with the temporal.

With all the foregoing in mind, we can do proper justice to the truth of Colossians 1:16-17 (cf. Hebrews 1:2):

₁₆ …and all things have been created through Him and for Him. ₁₇ And He Himself exists before all, and in/by Him all things hold together.⁴

John the Gospel writer apparently drew from Paul’s words here. All things were created through Him (the Word without flesh). That is, the Word is the Agent of creation (John 1:3). And all things were created for Him (the Word with flesh). That is, all things were created for the God-man, Jesus Christ. The first clause of verse 17 can be translated and interpreted a few different ways. It could be translated: He is before all. Some interpretations include: (a) the Word exists before all created order; (b) Christ, in his Divine nature, exists before all created order; (c) the Word, as God, is preeminent; (d) Christ, as the God-man, is preeminent. The text may well be purposefully ambiguous such that there is intended polysemy, inviting more than one interpretation.

But what about the final clause? Prior to the Incarnation it was simple enough: the Word without flesh was holding all things together. However, can the God-man hold all things together while walking the earth, limited in physical presence? To claim Jesus did so via His Divine nature (in abstraction from His human nature) might smack of Nestorianism. How can we resolve this?

With ease. God is omnipresent. We should not imagine God being constrained within/to Jesus’ human body any more than we might think the Holy Spirit is constrained within each believer’s body. Surely, there are not as many ‘Holy Spirits’ as there are Christians! In the same way, Jesus’ Divine nature, being omnipresent, can be in hypostatic union in the Person of Christ yet still continually sustain the cosmos.

In other words, we must not construe this passage as conveying that the Divine-human Jesus was holding the cosmos together, as if Jesus’ human body was omnipresent. Now, it was His Divine nature for sure, but the Divine nature was exhibiting the attribute of omnipresence (along with omnipotence and omniscience) in performing this function. This Divine function was not interrupted by the Incarnation.

In conclusion, we do no violence to the Deity of Christ if we affirm that the Word existed without human flesh, that the Word was not “Jesus Christ” prior to the Incarnation. In fact, we would unduly Deify Jesus’ humanity should we claim Jesus existed before creation. In other words, we cannot substitute “Jesus Christ” for “the Word” in John 1:1. This would make nonsense of the Scriptures. But we can claim that Jesus Christ preexisted as the Word in John 1:1. Or that the Word (John 1:1-3) is the preexistence of Jesus Christ.

All in proper—temporal—perspective…

[Related: Probing the Prologue in The Gospel According to John: John 1:1-2 and John 1:3-5]

___________________________________

¹ Thomas V. Morris, The Logic of God Incarnate (Ithaca, NY:  Cornell University Press, 1986), p 91.  Brackets added.
² Though he allows free will.
³ Lewis Sperry Chafer, Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel, [© 1948, 1976 Dallas Theological Seminary] 1993), pp VII.141-42.  Emphasis added.
⁴ My translation, with assistance from Murray J. Harris, Colossians and Philemon, Exegetical Guide to the Greek New Testament (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2013), pp 42-43; Constantine R. Campbell, Colossians and Philemon: A Handbook on the Greek Text, Baylor Handbook on the Greek New Testament (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2013), pp 11-14.

Looking Past the Future

Looking at the present, the immediate future is uncertain. But of this I am sure: a much brighter future awaits us.

“For as the lightning comes from the east and flashes to the west, so will be the arrival of the Son of Man” (Matthew 24:27).

And the culmination of this future may resemble our distant past. Our very beginning. Before we fell into darkness.

In the Apocalypse—the book of Revelation—John the revelator describes the New Jerusalem (Rev 21:2, 10). A Throne is its centerpiece, its Sanctuary is the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb (21:22). Light radiating from them obviates the sun, eliminates the night (21:23, 22:5). A Tree of Life is flanked by a life-giving river and a golden street (21:21), one as transparent as the other:¹

₁ Then the angel showed me a river with the water of life, clear as crystal, springing forth from the Throne of God and of the Lamb. ₂ In between the city’s great street and the river stands a Tree of Life² producing twelve fruits, corresponding to each month of the year, yielding one fruit per month. The leaves of the Tree provide healing for the people. ₃ No longer will any curse be. The Throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and His servants will serve Him. ₄ They will see His face, and His Name will be on their foreheads. ₅ Night will no longer exist: They will have no need of lamplight or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will shed light upon them. And they will reign forevermore (Rev 22:1-5).

No curse! No night, no darkness! I have long championed the slogan “Water is life”, a maxim all the more true in the New Jerusalem.

May I endure to the end (Matthew 24:13), thereby finding my name included in the Lamb’s book of life (Rev 21:27). I sure could use some of those healing leaves.

“Behold! I am coming soon” (Rev 22:12).

____________________________

¹ What follows is my own translation.

² This first part of the verse proved very difficult to translate. The Greek is:  ἐν μέσῳ τῆς πλατείας αὐτῆς καὶ τοῦ ποταμοῦ ἐντεῦθεν καὶ ἐκεῖθεν ξύλον ζωῆς, en mesō̧ tēs plateias autēs kai tou potamou enteuthen kai ekeithen xylon zōēs. Translating as literally as possible: in middle/midst of-the great-street of-it and the river from-here and from-there tree of-life. There is no finite verb in this entire verse—something not uncommon in Scripture. The first clause up to “of-it” is a dative, but does it go with the main verb of 22:1 (“springing forth”) or are we to assume—and thus add in—a verb in 22:2? For me, it seemed nonsensical to envision a river flowing down the middle of a street (and with a tree or trees in the middle of it), so I looked for other options. I found the International Standard Version’s translation to make the most sense: the dative clause was to be applied to verse 2 rather than 1. The key for me was understanding “from here and from there” as helping to explain—as a rephrasing of—“in the midst”. In this way, the verse is understood in the middle of the city’s great street and the river, from here [the river—the focus from v. 1] and from there [the great street] (stands) a Tree of Life. From this understanding, I decided to omit “from here and from there”, thus rendering the first two words “in between” as a compromise.