I am going to tell you a sort of parable. As it unfolds, please bear in mind the title (and subject) of this article. What you are about to see will be quite unusual, and perhaps unsettling, frightening and confusing.
Imagine a meeting room, perhaps like the rooms where many of us have our Sunday meetings. This room has been re-organized in anticipation of some special event. There are flowers everywhere, and bright new decorations. People are assembling, dressed more formally than usual. Women are wearing their new dresses. Some of the men feel a little stiff in their new suits. A few women are giving last-minute instructions, checking their lists. Music is playing, but it seems more solemn than usual. Food is arriving; someone is laying out a special cake in the next room. There is an undercurrent of anticipation and a building excitement. Something is about to happen.
The last arriving guests are finding their seats. Now a pause, and a hush. Then music begins again, stirring music, music announcing — something, someone, but what? And whom?
Another pause, followed by familiar music, a march. In the center aisle appears a proud older man with a young woman on his arm, arrayed in a flowing white gown. They begin to walk slowly and with dignity, down the aisle, measuring their steps as they come. She is beautiful, her eyes are sparkling, and her smile is dazzling. Everyone is smiling now; joy is in the air. She is escorted to the front of the room, where she takes her place alongside her companions.
They all wait. Something, or someone, is missing. Everything about the scene suggests that there must be a young man, suitably dressed, waiting for her. But no one has yet come. Everyone is waiting. There are whispers: the one they expected has been known to be late before.
Next comes a great noise, thundering and echoing all around, at a distance and then just outside the building, with confused shouting, excited and fearful, then cries of terror. It is as though a great storm has suddenly blown in, a hurricane perhaps, to engulf the building and the surrounding area. Then, just as suddenly, there is an awful stillness.
Before anyone can react to what they’ve heard, a new commotion arises in the back of the building. Someone is coming. Those seated near the front can hear a general murmur of surprise and bewilderment. What is going on?
At that moment, he enters. All eyes turn from the young woman at the front and look toward the door, where they see — a man. Yes, it’s the man they expected. But his appearance is altogether altered, so they can scarcely recognize him. He is carrying a sharp sword in his hand. Most striking are his clothes; they were once fine and clean, but now they are dripping with blood. He looks like a butcher just finishing a hard day at the slaughterhouse. He takes one step, and another, and another, making his way down the center aisle, and the assembly is in shock. On this joyous occasion, he has arrived covered in blood, as though he is the last man standing, just arrived from a terrible battlefield. With every step he takes, down the white runner stretched from front to back of the aisle, he leaves bloody footprints. Can this possibly be the bridegroom?
A few brave folks peek out the windows. They see fields and roads in every direction, and even the parking lot, covered with the carnage of battle. The bodies of warriors lay everywhere, fallen like autumn leaves. Already, vultures circle and tear at the corpses, only just now dead. They are enjoying their own unexpected feast.
You may remember that a previous article (The Tidings, June 2015) dealt with what I called JOCIs: juxtapositions of counterintuitive images. So I have to ask you: what did you expect as I began this short story? What happened, instead? If you were the least bit surprised, then you have experienced one more JOCI — perhaps the most disconcerting of all.
Furthermore, what you’ve experienced comes straight from the Bible. In the book of Revelation we have, in short order, these three scenes:
The preparation of the Bride and the wedding:
“Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear…. ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’ ” (Rev 19:7-9).
The arrival of the Bridegroom, dripping in blood:
“There before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns…. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood…. Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. ‘He will rule them with an iron scepter.’ He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: King of kings and Lord of Lords” (Rev 19:11-16).
The carnage of battle:
“I saw an angel standing in the sun, who cried in a loud voice to all the birds flying in midair, ‘Come, gather together for the great supper of God, so that you may eat the flesh of kings, generals, and mighty men, of horses and their riders, and the flesh of all people, free and slave, small and great’ ” (Rev 19:17,18).
This is the Marriage of the Lamb, which we desire and pray for. Christ is the Bridegroom, covered in blood.
Yes, the wedding will be a lovely, as we all imagine — more beautiful and more wonderful, in fact, than we can ever imagine. But other images and features will accompany it, before and after.
Are you shocked to see the Bridegroom covered in blood? Are you shocked to see the great feast of God — at least one part of that feast — consisting of dead bodies scattered across the earth. Does it surprise you? Should it?
Conclusion
The One who was the silent Lamb led to slaughter, shed his own blood, so that his multitudinous Bride could be redeemed and forgiven in God’s sight. That same Lamb has become, in Bible terms, a ravening and roaring Lion, dripping with blood. This time the blood is not his own; it is blood from the slain bodies of his enemies. He was righteous when he shed his own blood, and he will be righteous when he sheds the blood of others — however that might be accomplished (and by no means am I saying I know how it will happen). No matter how this great judgment on the earth is accomplished, the One who brings it about, the lamb turned into a lion, is still the same Lord and Savior who laid down his life.
When Israel looked for a Lion to destroy the Romans, they got instead a Lamb ready to die. Likewise, when we look for the marriage supper of the lovely Lamb of God, we get, instead, a great predator Lion of the tribe of Judah!
Jesus Christ is both. Each week we celebrate with the memorials the Passover Lamb who was slain for us. We know that he is alive forevermore, that he alone has the power of life and death for all humanity. When the time is right, he will use that power, terrifying as it may be.
Are you uncomfortable with this picture? Are you disturbed when you contemplate this final juxtaposition of two events, a lovely wedding and a gruesome slaughter, side by side? It’s difficult, isn’t it? You know what a wedding is like (from experience). You know what a battle is like (probably from books, photographs and movies). Instinctively you may feel that “never the twain shall meet.” But they do meet, here. The bridegroom arrives at his wedding celebration, having come directly from the battlefield.
Beware of putting the Father and His Son into a box that makes you comfortable with them. They are too awe-inspiring and multi-faceted for that. Quite possibly they will continue to surprise you again and again, in the future.
World history is a chronicle of unjust, foolish wars that have often done more harm than good. One man, and one man only, will wage an absolutely righteous war. He can do this because he has already fought the only perfectly righteous war — the internal war against temptation and sin in his own life. As the only person who has conquered temptation and sin in himself, he is uniquely qualified to conquer a city, a nation, and a world.
The Father has given him all power in heaven and earth. No one can question his right to execute judgments upon the earth, in any way he sees fit. Nor can anyone question his right to show mercy on anyone he pleases.
He is the one we remember each week, at our small “marriage supper of the Lamb”, which anticipates the great feast that will surely come.
“I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matt 26:29).
We cherish that simple promise, as we sing words of welcome to the Bridegroom:
“The bridegroom is arising, and soon he draweth nigh”1
“May all our lamps be burning, our loins well girded be: Each longing heart preparing with joy to welcome thee”2Even so, come, Lord Jesus.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One