The Mark of the Lamb

Where is your hope, Christian?

Some put their hope in the outcome of the next election. People are losing their minds because Donald Trump is president of the United States while others imagine he is the answer to all the problems. To be fair, when Barack Obama was president, a seemingly equal number of minds were lost. People threaten to leave the country whether Republican or Democrat is in power. (If only they would.) But our Lessons today tell us there is someone else in power who holds no allegiance to party; the parties should be in allegiance to him.

Let us pray: What great love you have showered on us, Father, that you call us your children. This is no metaphor. In naming us as your children, we are truly in your family. The world does not know whose we are because they do not know you. So, we are often hated in this life simply because the world hates you. Nonetheless, we are now your children, and what we will become has not yet become clear to us. But we know this, that when Christ our blessed hope returns, we shall become like him because we shall see him as he is. Purify us in the hope of him who is himself pure, sinless, and righteous forever. Amen

Other people place their hope in money. My grandparents lived through the Great Depression. My parents spent their first dozen years being raised in that collapsed economy. So, my Dad worked five jobs and continued to work long past retirement. Like father, like son. But we stand always on the brink of another market crash. Everything we have worked for can be erased in the blink of an eye. We could wake up to tomorrow’s news that it’s all gone. But even if we keep our retirement investments and pension and Social Security in this life, we will not take it into the life to come. Wealth cannot be our hope—either in this life or the next.

There is something else, more solvent than money, more powerful still than the so-called almighty dollar.

Others put their hope in their health. It seems to be the national pastime. Everyone is talking about their latest ailments, doctor appointments, and prescriptions. Maybe it’s just the people I hang out with. Feeling the effects of aging, Susan and I have been going to the Y five times a week for the past three weeks. I want to say that my arthritic knee is a little less painful now, that my core muscles are supporting my back a little better and relieving some of the Lumbar nerve compression I am plagued with but…

Ultimately, there is no hope in health. One day I will die. Of what use will cardio and strength training be to me then?

I (We!) had better be marked by something more significant and long-lasting than bearing the sign of a particular political party, or the name of the best investment agency, or the seal of approval of good health, or any other earthly contrivance.

The mark or seal of the Lamb in Revelation 14:1 is foreseen in our First Reading today. This blessed and less renowned “mark” stands in direct contrast to the infamous mark of the beast in Revelation 13:17–18. That mark of the Lamb, also termed a seal or name, received by the 144,000—that numberless multitude of all God’s redeemed who stand with the Lamb on Mt. Zion—is the mark by which their identity in God is known. This is also symbolized by the white robes in our First Reading today. After all, anyone can wear a physical white robe that covers the outer person, but these white robes are different. They cover the spiritual person; they cannot be worn by anyone but those to whom they are given. These robes are given by Christ himself because they are made white by the blood of the Lamb, itself at a foolish statement to those without faith. Red blood makes nothing white. Clearly, John is speaking here in symbolic language.

But what exactly is this mark or seal, these white robes, or any of the other biblical metaphors that claim God’s ownership of us? It is nothing spooky or particularly mysterious. It is that name given to the people of God, his very own name, the name given to all those who are baptized and believe on Christ for justification and sanctification. It is the name of Christ. You are marked, believer; you are now named as a Christianós, one who belongs to Christ, a little Christ. You are clothed in him, robed in white, covered by the blood, washed in it, marked, sealed, named, counted, accounted, or any of the other analogies to having received the saving righteousness of Christ that the Scripture affords us.

This is further symbolized at baptism where the Chrism, the sign of the cross, has been traced in oil on countless foreheads of the baptized for millennia.

The great multitude of Revelation 7 is the promised numberless offspring of Abraham which Paul, in Galatians 3, calls all those Jews and Gentiles who believe on the Messiah. To them is given victory over their true enemies: sin, death, and the devil—not sickness, poverty, and the wrong party in power.

The Beatitudes are also seen as fulfilled in this reading. The tribulations of hunger, thirst, and mourning are wiped away by the faithful God. Therefore, the humble and meek—those who hunger and thirst for that righteousness that comes from God—are enabled to cry out with praise to the Lord. They are the ones with the two-edged sword of the Spirit in their hands and hearts. The Word of God (Hebrews 4:12) is that sword by which the vengeance of God is both promised and delivered. At and by his Word, the “poor in spirit” know their need of the Savior, that they are not able to be righteous in their own strength and devotion. They hunger and thirst for an alien righteousness—that which comes from beyond oneself. Through faith in Christ they become the children of God. If they look for righteousness in religion and in themselves instead, they are undone. If their hope is instead in God by faith, then they are made pure by his grace. God’s pure righteousness is given to them so that they may have real and certain hope. In fact, they are sealed in such hope.

Further, persecution—that hatred tribulation which is promised to all believers—is transformed into the joy of heavenly reward.

I think we tend to focus overly much on our tribulations, so the mark of the beast being such a fascination is no surprise. What would happen if we began to focus at least equally on the mark of the Lamb and all his blessings? By this mark we are sealed with all who have loved the Lamb and his salvation. You were counted in that mysterious 144,000 when you were baptized. But it isn’t so mysterious. The 12 X 12,000 is not a specific number but all the elect Israel of God (Galatians 6:16). You were marked on the forehead—on your mind or soul—with the sign of the cross, and spared eternal death. Clothed in white robes, like the catechumens of antiquity, you exited the baptismal water, your robes, even your very souls, made clean by the blood of Lamb though whom we are all marked or sealed. 

Many a church war has been waged because people do not know how to read these symbols, or worse, will not allow Scripture to interpret itself. Too often, we have allowed a particular book or popular preacher to be our guide. But the two-edged sword of the Lord’s people is the Word of God—not another book and certainly not a charismatic teacher who gives us fabulous yet superficial answers. The Sword of the Lord cuts so deeply as to even separate the soul and the spirit (Hebrews 4:12). Lutherans understand this double-edged sword as interpreting Scripture with both edges of the blade: the law and gospel. Those who are cut to the quick by the law yet receive the promise of the gospel, are graced with salvation. 

Through faith in Christ, we are brought into the family of God. Baptism is the sign, seal, or mark of God’s promise of salvation for those who believe. This is our hope, and our hope is sure since our hope is Christ. We do not hope in ourselves—in our religious devotion, in our love, in a particular theological persuasion, or in anything other than what Christ has accomplished. Our certain hope since the moment we were baptized is that, even as Christ was changed from dead to raised, we too will be changed—in the twinkling of an eye (1 Corinthians 15:52). It is not yet clear all that this glorious makeover will entail, but this much is clear: we will be made like him—righteous and eternal. That is the sure and steadfast anchor of our souls (Hebrews 6:19).

Being marked by the Lamb means we will follow him, confessing our spiritual impoverishment, grieving over our sin, having a humble and deep desire for the things of God, a gracious and merciful character, a heart for God alone, being part of a family who brings peace through him who is the Prince of Peace, and being persecuted for heralding his peace—and having great joy in the midst of it all. 

But it means something still more. It means knowing that when we do not look like or act like Christians, like “little Christs,” that we are still God’s children. We have been so marked. We no longer belong to ourselves; we belong to him. My children do not act like me (and perhaps that is a blessing) but they are my children nonetheless. Nothing they can do about that! They are in the family; always will be, no matter what they do. How much greater and more gracious is our Father who has marked us with the sign of his Son!

More importantly, being marked with the Lamb means that even when we do not feel like we are living up to the one who has marked us, he has lived up to it. Our hope does not rest in our feelings or our own lives but in the love and life of another.

Our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness; We dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

When darkness veils his lovely face, we rest on his unchanging grace; in every high and stormy gale, our anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, his covenant, his blood, support us in the whelming flood; when all around our souls gives way, he then is all our hope and stay.

When he shall come with trumpet sound, O may we then in him be found: dressed in his righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne. 

On Christ, the solid Rock, we stand: all other ground is sinking sand... All other ground is sinking sand.