John’s Revelation is written to stir up hunger, as it builds from chapter to chapter, scene by scene, to that full-to-overflowing vision of a realized Kingdom. In chapter 21, he paints a sweet perfection beyond imagination. The real end of the story (which isn’t Revelation 22, but something still future-tense) leaves us longing, hopeful, hungry.
There will be a tree, John tells us as if peering behind a curtain, with leaves that heal whole nations.
And there is the face of God … exposed! And there is the Lamb, and we will see him. We will see the Lamb.
It will be so rich that we’ll find ourselves falling down in front of angels only to be told they aren’t the half of it.
We will see the Beginning and the End, the whole story laid out, all our questions laid to rest.
And we’ll hear the only invitation we ever wanted to hear. The Living Word will invite us in with a syllable. “Come.”
Inside that room, John says, there will be no more pain, no more waiting, no more death or things that disappoint. Every thirst quenched. Every hunger filled. We’ve arrived.
This is the substance of our hope. It isn’t wishful thinking or some kind of escapism that strains us. This is meat. Gold. Real.
Indeed, it is the one and only thing that makes your next step worth taking.
