Monday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 503

I heard a sound from heaven
like the sound of rushing water or a loud peal of thunder.
The sound I heard was like that of harpists playing their harps.
They were singing what seemed to be a new hymn before the throne,
before the four living creatures and the elders.
No one could learn this hymn except the hundred and forty-four thousand
who had been ransomed from the earth.

 A nyone who searches the Book of Revelation for some idea of what heaven might be like could suppose that it's one very long and very loud Mass. There will be lots of smoke, and blaring trumpets, with processions and singing, punctuated by earthquakes and falling stars. 

Good grief! It might never end. Not many boys and girls would go for that; and frankly, not many priests. 

Altar frontispiece
Carey Ohio

Revelation is seriously liturgical; it represents the glorious hopes of an oppressed religious minority. Perhaps John of Patmos also remembered the ceremonies once celebrated in the Temple in Jerusalem. (The Roman army destroyed it in 70 AD, leaving "not one stone upon another.") 

If Catholicism could never duplicate John's visions, we have assumed many of his symbols; including the burning torches (candles), incense, albs, stoles, and horns (trumpets, organs, etc.) We still sing many of his songs. And most importantly, the Lamb Who Was Slain appears in statues, mosaics, icons, and paintings. 

John says, "No one could learn this hymn except the hundred and forty-four thousand." We understand twelve times twelve times one thousand to represent the entire Church. That many people would overwhelm the island of Patmos. (Census in 2021: 3,283) 

More importantly the 144,000 are those who have died to themselves, by way of martyrdom or self-sacrificing service to God and his people. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the lamb. We celebrate that mystery as we  eat his flesh and drink his blood during the Eucharist. 

Visions of Revelation are reassuring promises of our worth in God's presence as we share the joy, satisfaction, and sheer goodness of our God. It is an assurance of fullness far beyond anything we can imagine, and infinitely better than we deserve. Every tear will be wiped away, every injury healed, and every injustice righted. 

Our hope means that we need no more than the promise for it moves us to pursue justice and practice mercy in this world as we celebrate the Eucharist and invite everyone to join us.