I wonder if you ever had the experience of meeting someone for the first time, and finding they looked nothing like you were expecting they would? This isn’t a story of when internet dating goes wrong (sorry… wrong blog), it’s the story of John’s vision of the throne of God in Revelation 5.
In Chapter 5 John finds himself in the throne room of God. He sees the one on the throne holding a scroll that has seven seals. It’s a scroll that contains the pronouncements and judgements of God over the world. A mighty angel proclaims “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals. What a moment for John to witness! The worthy one would come forth to take the scroll, break open the seals, and bring judgement on all wickedness, and rule in all righteousness. But no one under Heaven and Earth came forwards. Anticipation gave way to dread. Suspense gave way to despair, and John began to weep. The tears were bitter, the tears were helpless, the tears were endless. Then, one of the Elders said “Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has triumphed.” The Lion of the tribe of Judah! John’s despair turned to relief, his tears turn to laughter, his sadness to joy. Finally, one who was worthy. The Lion of the tribe of Judah. One who has triumphed with regal strength, one full of honour, glory, and majesty. John wiped his eyes, waiting to catch the first glimpse of the one who is worthy. John looks for the Lion, but what he saw made him gasp in shock!
He saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing at the centre of the throne.
Perhaps this is the epicentre of Christian pursuit: to look for the Lion – but to see the Lamb.
Here’s how Paul introduces the Lion and the Lamb: the one “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!
He has the name of the Lion of Judah: royal descendant; the root of David; the promised king whose righteous rule would last forever; the one with eternal majesty, splendour, and glory.
He has the appearance of a lamb that was slain: carrying the form of one destined to be sacrificed on behalf of others; bearing the marks of his suffering and death.
Apologies to fans of C.S. Lewis – but here’s the point: Jesus looks nothing like a lion!
I find this deeply moving, deeply humbling, and deeply challenging. If it’s the Jesus way – perhaps it’s the way for those of us that follow him?
We have the name “chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession” – WOW!
But what about our appearance? It’s odd how much this matters to us. If you believe the Christian influencers who are filling up your Instagram feed it is one of trendiness, excitement, and fulfilment. If you believe the writer to the Hebrews, it’s somewhat less glamorous: “There were others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might gain an even better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were put to death by stoning; they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated— the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground”.
Maybe the Jesus way is to embrace the name and accept the appearance?
It has certainly helped me make sense of my journey in ministry life. In 2020, fourteen years after first sensing God call me into it, I became an Elder in my local church.
I hold the name of Elder: appointed as an overseer by the holy Spirit to guard over the flock, to shepherd the church of God, which he purchased with his own blood – Wow.
To be honest, often the appearance hasn’t quite matched my expectation. It’s involved extending generosity, while receiving cynicism. It’s meant caring for others while being unsure who is caring for me. At times its involved soaking up criticism that feels unjust – or in Narnian terms laying on the stone table and get repeatedly stabbed with the flint knife.
Of course, there is much encouragement. As well as being closest to the pain we get to be closest to the joy. As well as being closest to the criticism we get to be closest to the praise. As well as being closest to the brokenness we get to be closest to the healing. But For those of us that find ourselves discouraged in the moment – we find our consolation in fixing your eyes afresh on Jesus: and never losing the gasp of shock that comes as we look for the lion and see the lamb.
