Hope-Filled Future

Introduction
For the past six weeks, I have spent a lot of time thinking about life, death, family, friends, and a lot of my time thinking about God.  I have thought about his complexities, his creation, his unfailing love, his sacrifice, his incomprehensibility, his care, his mercy, his concern with the small details of life, and ultimately why God does what He does, or a better question, why does God allow bad things to happen to His people. I have thought about his promises; His promise to never leave or forsake his people, his promise of eternal life, his promise to be near to me in the hard times, his promises of justice, and his promise to take care of and provide for me.
           
I have thought about these things repeatedly, and when I think about God and the specific care and kindness He shows, I am generally encouraged.  But then, when hardships arise as they have recently, or the future becomes uncertain, I start to question, do I really believe all I say I believe?  I begin to question: Do I believe God can fix the broken, and is He really with me in the valley of darkness?  Can I say, “God is good all the time and all the time God is good”?  Or is this a response I have been programmed to repeat whenever prompted?  Ultimately, I ask myself, do I really believe what I preach?  Maybe you have asked yourself this same question?  Maybe you are asking this question right now.
           
Can I be authentic and honest for a moment?  There are times in my life when my thoughts and beliefs about God do not match up to what I preach when it comes to trusting and believing in God.  Now, I know, I am a pastor, so I should NEVER question God or have moments where my faith is tried, right?  Because we all know pastors are never supposed to question God.  We have it all together. We are pillars. Well, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but this is not true; there are times when I struggle.  I mean, intellectually, I know God is perfect in all ways, I know He will not leave nor forsake me, and I believe He will provide for all of my basic needs in life; so, why do I question God?
 
It has been a while since I have been in a place where I could give much, let alone offer words of encouragement from the Bible. These past seven weeks have been the darkest days of my life, and honestly, some days it is hard to trust that God can use any of this for any kind of good. So, as I sat at my computer to write the message today, I reached down to the deepest moments of despair and prayed about what I could possibly give to you all, except tears, sadness, struggle, and doubt. So, I went to the one place where I could find something to give to you, and I went to the end of the book of Revelation and read about our hope-filled future. So, this morning’s message has been tough for me and I trust God will use my words to bless and encourage you all. Maybe, even bless me in the process.  So, I invite you to turn to Revelation 21 because this is where I found a glimmer of hope to share with you.
 
Revelation 21
This vision is one of the most hopeful and beautiful visions in all of Revelation, bringing to fulfillment the promise of Isaiah 65:17: “Look! I am creating new heavens and a new earth, and no one will even think about the old ones anymore.” This is not a restoration but a re-creation. Eden is not simply revisited—it is reimagined, transformed, and glorified. In these final chapters of Revelation, we see the culmination of God’s redemptive plan: the full, eternal fellowship between the Creator and His redeemed people.
 
John opens this chapter with a vision of a renewed cosmos. “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone.” The “new” here is not new in time, but new in quality, renewed, perfected, glorified. The apocalyptic tradition, echoed in passages like
 
2 Peter 3:10–13
“But the day of the Lord will come as unexpectedly as a thief. Then the heavens will pass away with a terrible noise, and the very elements themselves will disappear in fire, and the earth and everything on it will be found to deserve judgment. Since everything around us is going to be destroyed like this, what holy and godly lives you should live, looking forward to the day of God and hurrying it along. On that day, he will set the heavens on fire, and the elements will melt away in the flames. But we are looking forward to the new heavens and new earth he has promised, a world filled with God’s righteousness.”
 
This passage speaks of a purging by fire and a remaking of all that was broken. Creation groans under the weight of sin, but here we witness its final healing.

Alongside this new creation comes the New Jerusalem. This city, descending from heaven, is described “as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.” Throughout Revelation, contrasts abound: the prostitute Babylon versus the pure bride of Christ, the corrupt earthly city versus the heavenly one. Here, that contrast reaches its climax. The New Jerusalem represents the people of God in their perfected state. Many interpret this passage literally, while others interpret it symbolically; however, the core truth remains: this city is where God dwells, just as Jerusalem housed the temple. Therefore, this new Jerusalem represents the unbreakable, eternal fellowship between God and His people.

A loud voice from the throne declares the heart of this vision: “Look, God’s home is with his people.” The Greek word refers to a tabernacle, a tent of meeting. But this is no temporary structure. Unlike the tent in the wilderness or even the temple in Jerusalem, this is a permanent, immediate presence. God is not visiting; He is living with His people forever.

This fulfills the deep longing of Scripture: from the garden of Eden, through the wilderness tabernacle, into the temple, and finally, the incarnation of Christ. Now, that longing is met in full. The gap between heaven and earth is closed. God wipes away every tear. Death, mourning, crying, and pain are no more. The old order has passed. The new has come.

Then the silence of God is broken. From the throne, He speaks: “Look, I am making everything new!” What a fantastic declaration. Not just some things, not just a reordering, but everything is new. The One who spoke the world into being now speaks it into renewal.

God proclaims, “It is finished!”, echoing Jesus’ words from the cross. The plan of redemption is complete. The Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, have brought His purpose to completion. This is a statement about God’s eternal nature, revealing that all history, all creation, and all redemption begin and end in Him.

To the thirsty, He offers water from the spring of life without cost. Thirst in Scripture is more than physical; it is the soul’s longing for God. Now that longing is quenched forever. Those who overcome, who have remained faithful through trial and testing, are promised an inheritance. They will be children of God, and He will be their God. All the promises made to the seven churches in chapters 2 and 3, eating from the tree of life, receiving hidden manna, and ruling with Christ, are realized here.

Yet even in this vision of hope, John gives a warning. Not everyone will share in this inheritance. “But cowards, unbelievers, the corrupt, murderers, the immoral, those who practice witchcraft, idol worshipers, and all liars—their fate is in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.” This is the second death, the same fate as the Beast, the False Prophet, and Satan. The justice of God, which is so central to the Revelation, is not forgotten even here. The gates of the city are open, but not all choose to enter.

One of the angels who earlier carried the bowls of judgment now calls John to see something different—something infinitely beautiful: “Come with me! I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb.” This language draws us into deep intimacy and purity. The church, once battered and persecuted, now appears in glory, radiant and whole.

John is carried to a high mountain to see the New Jerusalem descending from heaven. It shines with God’s glory, clear as crystal and brilliant like jasper. Its very radiance proclaims the presence of God.

The city is walled with twelve gates, each guarded by an angel. The gates bear the names of the twelve tribes of Israel, and the foundations are inscribed with the names of the twelve apostles. This is a powerful symbol of the unity between the Old and New Covenants—between Israel and the Church. The people of God are not divided; they are one. The story of salvation, from Abraham to Paul, finds its climax in this city of God.

Interestingly, the wall is not for protection. In the eternal state, there is no danger. Rather, it is a symbol of completeness and wholeness. The gates speak of abundant access, and the foundations remind us that this city is built upon the faithful proclamation of God’s Word.

John sees the city measured by an angel with a golden measuring rod, in contrast to the reed given to him in chapter 11. That earlier measurement was for protection. Here, the measurement is a declaration of perfection.

The city forms a perfect cube; its length, width, and height are all equal, evoking the image of the Most Holy Place in the temple, which was also a perfect cube. The whole city is the Holy of Holies. There is no separation between God and His people.

The description continues with materials that defy earthly imagination. The wall is made of jasper. The city itself is gold, so pure it appears like transparent glass. The transparency signifies purity and holiness. Nothing is hidden. There is no darkness or deceit.

The foundations are adorned with twelve precious stones, reminiscent of the breastplate worn by the high priest in the Old Testament. Once, only the high priest had access to the presence of God. Now, in the New Jerusalem, all God’s people enjoy that privilege. The barrier between God and humanity has been permanently removed.

The twelve gates are each a single pearl, a detail both amazing and symbolic. Pearls are formed through suffering and are precious beyond compare. The entrance to the city, then, comes at a price—one paid by the Lamb.
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In this passage, we are invited to live with heaven in view. This is where the story ends, but also where it truly begins. Our future is hope-filled. For those of us who are in Christ, we have a future and it a a beautiful future. Since it is a future hope, this means we must remain here in the present in a state of imperfection until the Lord calls us home.  But we no longer live under the shadow of sin or the fear of death, because the city of God is our true home, and the presence of God is our eternal joy and our future hope.