I’m not one to look for the signs of the times, or say ‘the end is near.’  But damned if these aren’t crazy times, ya’ll.

When I think about the current political climate in America, I carry my own fears about what could happen with this next election.  I fear it will be highly contested.  I worry there will be protests and violence in the streets.  I’m anxious that the incumbent president will send the national guard out on peaceful protestors if he wins.  I’m afraid that if he loses, he won’t send the national guard on armed protestors who support him because they are “nice people.”

Fear is everywhere, on both sides.  Everyone is afraid the other guy is going to win.  I don’t understand Trump supporters.  And I’m an enneagram nine, we understand everybody.  All I understand is their fear, even if I don’t agree with it.

It’s times like these that the book of Revelation has something to say to us.  Not in a National Enquirer sort of way.  Revelation is a gorgeous poetic apocalypse written for a people who have every reason to be afraid.  It is a book about final victory through the slaughtered Lamb.  I’ve long been caught by the strange vision John has describing the throne of God in Revelation 4.

At once I was in the Spirit, and there before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it. And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and ruby. A rainbow that shone like an emerald encircled the throne.

It’s easy to move past all this imagery quickly and not think much about it.  It’s weird, for sure.  John is describing the indescribable, and has to use poetic language to try to capture the grandest thing he’s ever seen.  What strikes me about this vision is that rainbow encircling the throne of God in heaven.  The rainbow is the symbol of the covenant God make with Creation to never again destroy us with a flood.  God surveys the universe through the lens of the rainbow, a symbol of divine protection and defense against chaos and destruction.  All of God’s creation is now seen through the eyes of mercy.  The full diversity of all God has made hears the same message: never again.

I love this imagery, especially in times of fear.  It challenges me to see the world through God’s rainbow-tinted glasses, not as if there are no major problems, but as though mercy conquers fear.  When I have mercy for others, I am living into the life God seeks for all creation.  When I take the time to recognize my own limits, that I am not superior to any, I am more likely to seek peace with my neighbor.

The rainbow isn’t a promise that we will escape the storm, only that the storm will not be the end of creation.

The hurricane is upon us. But the God of mercy already declares victory through the defeat of the Lamb. It’s a strange religion we Christians have.  Stranger still if we actually live like we believe this mercy is real.