“And between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain, with seven horns and with seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth.” Revelation 5:6
There’s a passage in “The Pilgrim’s Progress” that always makes me choke up. Christian and his friend Hopeful are crossing the last obstacle, the River of Death, before reaching the Celestial City. Hopeful’s feet feel the bottom, and he “knows it is good,” but Christian loses his head. God’s promises slip from memory, his mind accuses him with all his sins, and he despairs.
Hopeful attempts to comfort him: “‘Brother, I see the Gate, and the men standing by to receive us,’ but Christian would answer, ‘It is you, it is you they wait for; for you have been hopeful since I knew you.’”
Even the wisest, most steadfast Christians do not know how they will handle this River until they get there. It’s an obstacle unlike any other because it is the last, the portal of transformation. We all have to cross this River by going under its waves. It is the last barrier where there is no sight, only faith.
The awful certainty and finality of this River stretches like a sunset over our entire pilgrimage on earth. Mostly, we keep our eyes forward and down. We scroll, work, play, parent, launder, and cook as if life clicked along seamlessly. Sometimes that’s the only way to survive. But when we catch sight of that bridgeless River awaiting us, fears can cripple the strongest among us.
What if death is the end? Even if it’s not, how can I stand and be judged for this life I’ve so often wasted?
The Slain Lamb Stands Triumphant
Looking ahead at this ending, a Christian may not perfectly hope, but we know where to look to find perfect hope. On the other side of this River, there is a Lamb standing as though it had been slain.
The Lamb is like nothing you have seen. The Lamb is not decomposing. It is not lying down, breathing with effort. It is not being carted on a stretcher, or hooked up to a beeping machine. It is standing, yet clearly it has been slain.
This is your resurrected Savior. He is not a side-curiosity in the display of heaven; he is the centerpiece, with elders, creatures, thrones, and crowns all falling before him in worship. He has not only come through the River of Death; he stands triumphant over it.
This standing Lamb promises hope for physical fears. Death is not the end. After his resurrection, Jesus showed himself to many, and then ascended to never die again. There is a destination beyond, and the River of Death merely marks its border.
This standing Lamb quiets your spiritual fears. He stands through all eternity as though slain. Any time you fear God may not accept you, that your sins are too many and too heinous, that your bad outweighs your good, you can look at this Lamb to see a reminder of why you are safe. You will see this reminder still in heaven — how did you make it there? What gave you access? It’s the Lamb who was slain for you and then allowed you to share in his triumph.
Hope When the Waters Rise
Revelation 5 begins with a sealed scroll. The scroll has God’s good and just plans. Plans for restitution, redemption, grace, judgment, and wonder. But no one can open it. Then you see the Lamb standing as though slain. Jesus is the key. He breaks the seals and unrolls the scroll of God’s good promises. He bears on his body the marks of what makes him worthy: his triumph over death and its claims on us.
Once you get beyond age 30, it seems that Death begins making occasional house calls. He’s like an annoying acquaintance you want to leave behind, but who’s determined not to be forgotten.
You wake up with an injury you did not have when you went to sleep. Something slips while doing a chore. Something tweaks during an exercise. Your skin flabs and wrinkles. Death pokes his head in the door: “Just checking in. Wanted to see if you needed me yet? I’ll stop by more often next year, I promise.”
Easter comes with resounding joy because we fix our eyes on this Lamb, standing on the other side of the River of Death, triumphant. You will have to cross this River, but you do not need to fear it or what waits on the other side. The longer you live, the higher the waters of age, failure, and regret will rise. It’s easy to find yourself drowning, the waters going over your head. But you can always look up. You will see a Lamb standing as though slain. Impossibly, yet visibly, he lives. His resurrection is your resurrection. His victory is sure for you.
Justin Poythress serves as the pastor of All Saints Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho.