Trinity cries out, bewildered by his abandonment. In deepest agony, he dies -- murdered on the cross.
How can a murdered God bring us comfort -- bring us confidence -- in the face of Y2K? Again, fortunately the story isn’t over. Now let’s skip to the end of the story -- Rev. 1:9-18 (read the passage).
Here’s John, the “beloved disciple” on the island of Patmos. He is an old man now. He has seen those with whom he walked in following Jesus martyred, one after the other. He has witnessed converts his testimony brought into the kingdom of God slain for the sake of the gospel. He, miraculously, has been spared where others have perished under the sword of Rome. Why? Was his light not bright enough? Why was he merely banished to this nether land? Then, while John prays, he hears a voice.
“Write on a scroll what you see...”
John turns to see who it is who speaks to him in this lonely place and what meets his eyes turns his heart fire and his knees to water. He collapses in heap of humility, as if dead. What did he see?
One like a son of man walking among seven lamp stands. We find out later that the seven lampstands represents the church -- and the one like the Son of Man walks in its midst. In other words, he lives eternally in the midst of the church, tending its flame lest its light become dim. He is the high priest -- just look at his robe. The golden sash, an emblem of power, recalls the linen ephod worn by Aaron and his line when the high priest of the earthly tabernacle would minister before the Lord on behalf of the people of Israel. Like the priest which foreshadowed this last and greatest High Priest, the one like the Son