arrival

It’s like one of those great scenes at the end of a tense movie. Revelation 14:1-3 says, “Then I looked, and there before me was the Lamb, standing on Mount Zion, and with him 144,000 who had his name and his Father’s name written on their foreheads. And I heard a sound from heaven like the roar of rushing waters and like a loud peal of thunder. The sound I heard was like that of harpists playing their harps. And they sang a new song before the throne and before the four living creatures and the elders. No one could learn the song except the 144,000 who had been redeemed from the earth.”

Since this passage starts with the word “then,” it is meant to be read in the context of what came before. And for several chapters before this one we read of the great calamities of Satan’s war on God’s people. We were told about the dragon and the two beasts, and the persecution of the church. These were dark and scary and discouraging chapters.

When that happens in the movies, we’re being set up for the great entrance of the hero, full of light and color and glorious sound. And so it is. There’s the Lamb, standing on the mountaintop, surrounded by his faithful. There’s a deafening roar like thunder and rushing water, but so resonant that it sounds like harp music, and the faithful sing the triumphant song that only they know.

This is an appropriate entrance for the Savior. It’s what we should think about at Christmas, when we celebrate his original arrival. Then too he came with dazzling light and glorious sound, a wonderful and timely arrival in a dark, dark world.

Advent reminds us that we desperately need a Savior. Christmas provided us one. And Revelation reminds us that he will be there for us at the end.