Ultimate Outcomes

The Disillusioning Mirages & the Eternal Oasis

11.9.25 [Revelation 22:1-5] River of Life (22nd Sunday after Pentecost)

Driving across the hot, dusty desert can be really, really boring. Nothing to see. Nowhere to stop. Nothing to do but watch your car’s clock, speedometer, & thermostat. 

But every once in a while, a strange glimmer appears out of thin air. As the road rises and falls ever so slightly, it looks like there’s a puddle up ahead. The first time you encounter this phenomenon, you get a little excited. There’s not a whole lot else going on. But as your car’s tires eat up the road, the puddle vanishes back into thin air. You’ve just come across a mirage. And it won’t be the last time. 

But it’s not just long road trips that are filled with mirages. The long road trip of life is filled with plenty of mirages, too—moments when refreshment, renewal, and the restoration appear to be just ahead and then just disappear into thin air. 

The most frequent form is the pace mirage. Life gets busy. Your calendar feels outside of your control. It might be a work thing. Your family schedule. A health challenge. Even multiple transitions at once. We feel like we’re trying to steer a runaway train. 

In these moments, we’re drawn to the pace mirage. Things are just crazy busy, for now. But soon, they’ll slow down. Then we’ll get back to doing the right stuff. For now, we’re running on fumes. Physically, we’re not taking care of ourselves. Financially, we’re over-leveraged. Mentally, we’re feeling run down. Emotionally, we’re threadbare. And spiritually, we’re malnourished. We know this isn’t sustainable, but we keep telling ourselves that it will slow down. How or why, we’re not sure, but it has to. 

Sometimes, things do slow down. The work dries up. The kids’ season winds down. The health issue becomes manageable. But the relief, the restoration, the renewal don’t just magically arrive. It was just a mirage. And it’s not the only one. 

There are the milestone mirages. Special events we count down to. Days we take a lot of pictures. Moments we celebrate with a lot of cake and a big party. Graduation day. Wedding days. Birthdays. Confirmations. The day the kids move out. You or your spouse’s retirement. We tell ourselves that once we arrive at these milestone moments in life, things will be different. We will be new and different and better people. Our lives will be more fulfilling and meaningful. We will be satisfied. Content. All our cares will disappear and everything will be just peachy. But it’s all a mirage. The degree doesn’t mean there’s nothing left to learn. The wedding day is just the beginning. Adding numbers to our years doesn’t automatically mature us. Emptying the nest doesn’t unburden us the way we thought it might. Retirement isn’t quite what we pictured. It, too, was all a mirage.  

There are the acquisition mirages, too, when we believe if we get that next thing, it will make such a big difference. Maybe it’s something practical, like a reliable car or a low maintenance house. Maybe it’s something dreamy, like that once in a lifetime trip or building your forever home. Without even realizing it, we buy into the idea that peace has a price tag. Satisfaction is for sale. That money, properly invested, can buy us a slice of happiness. That, too, is a mirage.  

There’s also the achievement mirage. If we land the big account, if we get the big promotion, if we land the man or woman of our dreams, or if our kids get into the good school, we will truly be happy. If we accomplish something great we will feel great and subsequently be great. King Solomon, at the end of his days, commented: Ecc. 2:11 When I surveyed all the my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind. Nothing was gained under the sun. 

The most painful of the mirages is the survival mirage. When we are in the thick of sickness, pain, or suffering, grief or loss, we convince ourselves that if we can just get healthy, if we can just past the waves of pain, if we can just stop crying, we will find our smile again. Life will be good, once more. Even this is a mirage.  

When you encounter so many mirages, it’s hard not to become jaded. Cynical. To treat beautiful visions as nothing more than fairy tales. To think of hope as the wishes of the gullible. The devil is more than happy to develop our disappointment into doubt and finally unbelief. He wants us to look at a thing like the river of the water of life and think of it as Ponce De Leon’s famed fountain of youth—nothing but a myth. 

But God does not give us a mirage or a myth in Revelation 22. He knows that our hearts and minds imagine all kinds of false finish lines. He knows that as we survey the future, we think we see moments of refreshment, rejuvenation, and renewal within our grasp. We tell ourselves we just need to push a little harder, acquire a little more, achieve just one more thing, survive just one more challenge and then it will be ours. Patience and perseverance are critical character traits of Christians. Hope sustains us. But only when our hope is rooted in the right place. In something real. In someone true and faithful. 

That is what we have in Revelation 22. This is the final chapter of the entire Bible. And what we have here looks a lot like the first chapters. There is a river. A tree with fruit and leaves. There is light. And most importantly, there is God. Doesn’t it remind you of Eden? 

Though it has a lot of similarities with that first perfect paradise, it is somehow better. Perfecter? That’s not a word, but what God gives us here is beyond words. Beyond our understanding. Yet still real. Still true. Still what we’ve pinned our hopes to and what our hearts and minds pine for. This is a glimpse of the greatness of heaven. And it is no mirage. It’s no myth. It is an eternal oasis. 

This vision begins with the river of the water of life. For us, rivers are for pictures and play. But in this day, a river was the place where people congregated to cleanse, refresh, and sustain life. Ancient rivers were often dirty and disease ridden. But not this one. It is clear as crystal. There is no muck or mire. There are no particulates or invisible diseases. It is the river of life-water. Where does it come from? The throne of God and of the Lamb. This life-giving water of inexhaustible abundance emanates from the Maker and Preserver of all things. Not only is it real, but it is everlasting. In the same way most rivers don’t run dry here on earth, this river of the water of life continues to pour forth from God’s throne. 

And this river sustains a marvelous tree. This is unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Beyond even what our scientific minds could come up with. It produces fruit every month without fail. Its leaves have therapeutic properties. The people are fed. The nations are healed. The curse has been lifted and the sun has been put out to pasture because the Lord God is the light of this new place. 

As amazing and mind-bending as all those details are, they are not the highlight of heaven. The highlight is there in verse 4. Rev. 22:4 God’s servants will serve him and see his face and his name will be on their foreheads. Why is that such a big deal? Aren’t there other faces we’re going to see? Of course. There will be familiar faces and famous faces. But none are more important than the face of God. 

In the Old Testament book of Exodus, Moses had grown frustrated with his long, dusty journey in the wilderness. God had called him to lead the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land and the task was far more than Moses anticipated. So he cried out to the Lord: Ex. 33:12-14 I know your name. I want to know your ways and I want your presence and your favor. God promised him My presence will go with you and I will give you rest. And then Moses asked for one more thing. Ex. 33:18 Now show me your glory. I want to see your face. 

But this God could not do. He promised Moses could see his goodness, his mercy and compassion, but he told Moses that         Ex. 33:20 no one can see my face and live. 

Why is that? Because God is holy—and people are not. Because God is true—and all people are liars. Because God is righteous—and the human heart is deceitful beyond cure. To behold the glory of God is a blessing, if you are like God. If you are not, it is a curse. We cannot look directly at the brilliance of the sun and retain our vision. We are even less capable of beholding the brilliant glory of the God who made the sun and remaining alive. 

Yet, God made this happen. In his immense wisdom and his amazing love, God took on flesh and blood. He revealed his face. And the Lord Almighty became true man and also our servant. As the Lamb of God, he took the sin of the world upon himself and died the cursed death of being hung on a tree, a Roman cross. God lived as we have not. God died as we should have. God rose back to life so that we might have real, eternal hope. And because God did those things for you and me, this beautiful vision is not some pipe dream. It’s not a spiritual mirage. It’s real. It’s the eternal oasis that God has always desired to have his people enjoy. John writes in his epistle: 1 Jn. 3:2-3 Dear friends, now we are children of God and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. All those who have this hope purify themselves, just as he is pure. 

And one day it will be your home. One day you will see that river, as clear as day. One day, we will eat from the fruit of the tree of life. One day we will live in a land that does not groan under the curse of sin. One day, the day is all we will know, because there it will never turn night again. One day, we will see God, face to face. And why? Because I know that my Redeemer, the Lamb, lives. That in the end he will sit on the throne. And after this body that is subject to death and under a curse has been renewed in my flesh I will see God. I myself will see him, with my own eyes. I and not another. How my heart yearns within me for that glorious day that never ends. Amen.