"Also, in front of the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal." (Revelation 4:6 NIV)
We’ve come to the time of year where I long for the lake. I don’t want for water sports or beach volleyball. I’m not yearning for swims and sunburns. Not in the least. For me, the lake is far lovelier in autumn, when the summer folks have gone home and waterfront activity has ceased.
I picture the cabin by great grandfather built, nestled along Big Bass Lake in the northern woods of Minnesota and my soul nearly shouts with longing. I’ve only been there a handful of times as an adult, but in my childhood we created core memories along its shores.
The lake in autumn is absolutely winsome. Cool blue skies parade over a waterfront awash in color. The pine stands tall, the scent of sap strong enough to make you weep with joy for the freshness of it. The paper birch quivers at every breeze, a million heartbeats per branch. The loons sing their forlorn song as if bidding farewell to the previous season.
The water itself also tells stories – low fog in the morning, whitecaps in the wind, and occasionally as still as a looking glass. You’ll gaze out of the cabin window to discern two skies – one above and one below. In those moments it’s though the whole body of water holds it’s breath… those are my favorite days at the lake, when it seems to be the most peaceful place on earth.
Sadly, I don’t live at the lake or in the north at all. I live in incessantly sunny San Antonio, where it’s hot for more than half the year and fall never fully arrives. Still, this is the life the Lord has deposited me in, and I’m finally, joyfully surrendered to it. I especially treasure my job in this season.
Remarkably, at my workplace, we’ve begun a weekly Bible study. Revelation is the book of choice, and fully disclosure, it’s a book I typically steer away from teaching. Apocolyptic and prophetic in nature, Revelation is rarely straightforward in interpretation. Let’s just say it isn’t nearly as neat and tidy as a gospel. But here we are, excavating apocalyptic literature at work, and I’m a team player. The book we are reading alongside our scripture is written by Tim Chester. It’s fantastic thus far.
This week’s pages provided a chart of revelatory symbols and their generally accepted interpretation. The one that captured my attention was the sea.
sea: represents the forces of chaos.
(a crystal sea represents complete control over the forces of chaos.)
Being fairly familiar with Revelation, my mind jumped ahead to 4:6 and the glassy sea before the throne, but also, Jesus speaking to the storm (Mark 4:39) and walking on the waves (Matthew 14:25).
"Even the wind and waves obey Him." (Mark 4:39 NIV)
It’s clear from Tim Chester’s interpretation of symbols and from plain interpretation of scripture that our Sovereign God has supreme control over the sea – literally and figuratively. He can still a body of water – even tear it apart to allow His people to pass through it on dry ground. He can also still the chaos of a world gone mad.
Consider it deeply, my friend. Our God reigns over chaos. All the upset in this world, all the ways in which things go wrong, all the wretchedness and willfulness: it’s all within His holy ability to bring peace. Shalom. Wholeness.
From where I wade, the world feels pretty tumultuous today. The horrific aftermath of Helene, the increasing political division in our nation, the intensifying conflict in the Middle East: it crashes about us, doesn’t it? Disorienting and drowning. Yet Revelation reminds us, at the end of the day, God is still has control. Our Almighty Father still possesses the power to put the sea back in it’s place, to still the raging waters to back to a glass state when the time is right.
Like I said, I long for the lake these days. It’s a place where I’ve spent precious little time, but the promise of peace lures my memory again and again. I can summon the image of the woods and water with relative ease because it’s left such a profound impact on my soul.
Similarly, we live homesick for heaven because we reside in the ravages of this world – this firmament is torn apart by sin. The promise of lasting peace found in the pages of Revelation can inspire believers to plod on with heavenly longing in our hearts. We can spend our lives in surety of God’s ability to reign over chaos and restore what’s been lost.
"The heavens are Yours, and Yours is also the earth; You founded the world and all that is in it." (Psalm 89:11 NIV)
"You rule over the raging seas; when it's waves mount up, You still them." (Psalm 89:9 NIV)
Lord, we live in the churning water of chaos. It’s disorienting and debilitating. Sometimes we fear we are drowning. Meet us in the deep. May we reach for a life preserver and find You at our fingertips. Set eternity in our hearts. Teach us to trust in Your sovereignty. Still the waters long enough for us to reorientate to Your love. And renew our hope in the life to come. Amen.