Search this book
The expectation among many Christians is that heaven, ultimately, will be somewhat ethereal and spiritual, that the world in which we live will be completely destroyed and that we will live in a vaporous place in the sky.
But the New Testament does not teach the ultimate destruction of this world; rather, the New Testament speaks of the renovation of this fallen planet. Paul tells us in Romans, for example, that "the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs" (8:22), and that at the consummation of the kingdom of God, in the final eschatological triumph of Christ, this world will go through a radical purging by which it will be renewed, not destroyed. The expectation of the New Testament, ultimately, is that heaven will be here after the earth has been transformed.
In the final two chapters of the book of Revelation, we find imagery that speaks of this in beautiful terms. Here we read of John's vision of the new heaven and of the new earth, and of the heavenly city, the New Jerusalem, that descends from heaven to the earth. This is the most vivid and graphic description of what heaven is like in all of Scripture. It is communicated to us through what is called apocalyptic literature, and apocalyptic literature is known for its heavy use of rich images and symbols, so this passage sounds strange to us when we read some of the descriptions of streets of gold and gates of pearls and so on. But these images and symbols all point beyond themselves to profoundly important realities.
Revelation 21 opens with these words: "Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea" (v. 1). It is fascinating to me that the first statement about the new heaven and new earth is negative. It speaks of the absence of the ocean. There is no sea. That might come as a tremendous disappointment to those of you who have sand in your shoes and who love the beaches. For you, it may seem that a new heaven and a new earth without a sea would be a paradise without the necessary ingredients.
However, for a Jewish person of the ancient world, this description was
loaded with symbolic importance, because in Hebrew poetry the sea was the symbol of destruction. The sea was not the friend of the ancient Jews.
Israel never developed a commercial sea trade. Rather, the sea was the place from which marauders came. The Israelites' archenemies and perennial enemies, the Philistines, controlled the coast. The shoreline was rocky and treacherous, and the terrible storms that swept in across the Mediterranean would stir up the lakes and bring the hot winds of the sirocco. All of these unpleasant things came off the sea, and so the sea was the image of destruction in the Jewish mind. We see this vividly in Psalm 46, where the psalmist speaks of how the sea roars and is troubled, how it beats against the mountains so that they are destroyed and cast into the midst of the waters.
The positive image in Hebrew poetry is the river, the well, or the spring —the River Jordan, for example, which cuts like a ribbon down the middle of the arid land of Israel, and is the source of life and nourishment. As we will see, in the New Jerusalem, there is a river of life that flows down the center of the city. So when we see the absence of the sea but the presence of the river, we are seeing symbols of the absence of destruction and the presence of life.
Then the apostle says, "I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, 'Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God" (vv. 2-3).
Again, the imagery here is borrowed from the Old Testament, where the external, visible sign of God's promised presence with His people was the tabernacle. The tabernacle was pitched in the very center of the Israelite camp. The twelve tribes were situated almost like a clock, and in the very core, or hub, of that clock was the tabernacle, indicating that God was in the midst of His people. The tabernacle was called the "tent of meeting" because it was there that the people assembled to meet with God.
In the New Testament, Christ comes in the incarnation. John tells us, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1). A little later John says, "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (v. 14a). The words that are translated "and dwelt among us" literally mean "tabernacled among us" or "pitched His tent in our
midst," referring back to the symbolic presence of God in the tabernacle of the Old Testament.
What is this vision telling us? It is saying that in the consummation, God Himself shall be with His people. What we see here is a picture of the coming of the immediate presence of God in the midst of His people, and there's nothing more glorious about heaven than to be bathed in the radiance of the unveiled presence of God.
Then we read this: "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away" (v. 4). When I was a little boy, I sometimes got into scrapes. There was a boy in our town who was something of a bully. He grew much faster than everyone else, so he towered over the rest of us, and he could be mean. One day, I was playing with some other kids, and this bigger boy began calling me bad names and making fun of me. He hurt my feelings, and I started to cry and went home.
I can remember to this day walking into the kitchen. My mother was there cooking, and she had an apron on. When she saw I was crying, she rushed over and hugged me and asked me what was wrong. Through all my sobs I could hardly get it out, but she was very tender and calmed me down. Then she took the edge of her apron and wiped away my tears.
I remember that because I've seen it repeated many times in the drama of life. For instance, many years ago, I visited a friend in a Boston hospital. He was in the final hours of his life, and I remember being by his hospital bed, feeling utterly helpless because I couldn't do anything to help him except to take little pieces of ice and put them to his parched lips. As I was doing this on one occasion, he looked at me. He was too weak to speak, and a single tear formed in his eye. I took the little cloth that was on the bed stand and wiped away that tear. I don't know how to describe something like that— what is communicated from one human being to another when that kind of service is rendered, the drying away of a tear.
When my mother dried my tears, I experienced great consolation and comfort. My weeping stopped, and I was restored to a sense of equilibrium.
But as my childhood went on, I cried again and again and again. However, John is telling us here that when God personally comes to His people and dries our tears, that will be the end of all crying due to pain, sorrow, grief, or unhappiness. In heaven, there will be a permanent cessation of these things. There will be no death, pain, or sorrow. All of the things that
provoke us to weep will no longer be present. In fact, one of the most amazing things about this description of the nature of heaven is the emphasis on what is not in heaven. There is no sea. There is no death. There are no tears. There is no sickness. There is no pain. There is no sin. That's not an exhaustive list, as there are others things that we will see in this passage, but it's interesting to notice that the first thing that is announced is the end of suffering.
John continues:
Then one of the seven angels who had the seven bowls filled with the seven last plagues came to me and talked with me, saying, "Come, I will show you the bride, the Lamb's wife." And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great and high mountain, and showed me the great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, having the glory of God. Her light was like a most precious stone, like a jasper stone, clear as crystal. Also she had a great and high wall with twelve gates, and twelve angels at the gates, and names written on them, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel: three gates on the east, three gates on the north, three gates on the south, three gates on the west. Now the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and on them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb." (vv. 9-14)
This description speaks of the foundations and the walls of the New Jerusalem, and the number twelve figures prominently here. The multiples of twelve refer both to the twelve tribes of Israel, who are commemorated by the gates, and the twelve apostles of Christ, who are listed on the foundations. Remember, this is a city whose builder and maker is God, and the city of God rests on the foundation of the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament apostles, with Christ being the chief cornerstone.
The description goes on to point out several other things. The first is that the New Jerusalem is a perfect cube. John writes: "And he who talked with me had a gold reed to measure the city, its gates, and its wall. The city is laid out as a square; its length is as great as its breadth. And he measured the city with the reed: twelve thousand furlongs. Its length, breadth, and height are equal" (vv. 15-16). What does that call to mind? It reflects, or recapitulates, the dimensions of the earthly Holy of Holies, the innermost section of the earthly temple, which was also a perfect cube.
Verses 18-21 speak of the gorgeous jewels that adorn the city, and we read that the twelve gates are twelve pearls. Imagine that. You've heard popular references to "the pearly gates." Here they are. Each gate is a single pearl, translucent and magnificent. One can see through the doors into the interior courts, where the beauty of the light that floods the city is reflected and refracted from the facets of the jewels that adorn the city.
John says, "And the street of the city was pure gold, like transparent glass" (v. 21b). We do not think of gold as being transparent. In order for gold to be transparent, it has to be rolled out so that it becomes very thin. I wouldn't put it past God to create a place that literally looks like this. I will not be the least surprised to go to heaven and find myself walking down a street that is paved not with concrete, stone, or asphalt, but with gold in all of its beauty.
But then we read about some more things that are not there. John says, "But I saw no temple in it" (v. 22a). If there is one place where we would expect a temple, it would be in heaven. It's one thing to say there's no death, weeping, sorrow, sickness, or sea, but there also is no temple in heaven. The reason is obvious, isn't it? There's no need of a temple, because the temple symbolizes the presence of God with His people. When God is there in reality, visible to His people, there is no need for the earthly representation. John says just that: "For the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple" (v. 22b).
Also, "The city had no need of the sun or of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God illuminated it. The Lamb is its light" (v. 23). That's another fantastic image—no sun. If there were a sun in heaven, we wouldn't be able to see it—it would be eclipsed, not by another heavenly body, but by the super-intensity of the radiance and refulgent glory of God Himself, which is so much more dazzling and so much brighter than any created thing such as the sun. The sun and moon are unnecessary there. The illumination of this city comes from the glory of God and of Christ.
Then we read in chapter 22:
And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding from the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no more curse, but the throne of God
and of the Lamb shall be in it, and His servants shall serve Him. They shall see His face, and His name shall be on their foreheads. There shall be no night there: They need no lamp nor light of the sun, for the Lord God gives them light. (vv. 1-5a)
What else is absent from the New Jerusalem? The curse of God, which means the wrath and judgment of God. And rather than darkness, which indicates the curse, the ultimate joy of heaven will be our experience of the beatific vision—the vision of the face of God unveiled. We who are there will look directly into the unveiled face of God, for we shall see Him as He is.
I encourage you to make time to sit down and read chapters 21 and 22 of the book of Revelation in their entirety, and think of these chapters as a letter from heaven, addressed to you to describe this place where Christ promised to go and prepare a room for you, if indeed you are in Him. We need to keep this vision of heaven in front of us at all times, for death will be completely swallowed up by the victory of the Lamb and of His kingdom. We need to keep that image before our eyes, so that no tear we shed in this vale of tears is wasted.