Sermon Text: Revelation 21:1-6
Date: November 2, 2025
Event: All Saints Day (Observed), Year C

Revelation 21:1-6 (EHV)

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, because the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. And the sea no longer existed. 2And I saw the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

3And from the throne I heard a loud voice that said, “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. 4He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away.”

5The one who was seated on the throne said to me, “Look, I am making everything new!” He also said, “Write, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 6And he said to me:

It is done.
I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.
To anyone who is thirsty,
I will give freely from the spring of the water of life.

Welcome to New Jerusalem!

I’ve been spending a good amount of time the last week or so looking over maps for the East Coast to get familiar with the lay of the land before Alex and I head out for a long weekend trip there the end of the week. One thing that stands out as you look at a map of that area, or really in a lot of places in the United States, is how often the “New” prefix is added to the front of place names. New York, New Hampshire, New England, New Mexico. All of these exist because people were going from their home to a new place, and they had the goal to make the new place like their home, but better. It’ll be like York—but new and better. The region will be like England, but new and better.

This morning, through the revelation given to the apostle John, Jesus gives us a glimpse of the same kind of concept: New Jerusalem, like Jerusalem, but new and better.

To really get the full effect of what this New Jerusalem will be, we should spend a few minutes considering what the original Jerusalem was (or should have been). God described Jerusalem as the place he chose to place his name. Initially, as he established the rule of King David, but even more so once David’s son, Solomon, completed the temple there. At the dedication of that temple, Solomon quoted God’s intent: “From the day I brought my people out from the land of Egypt, I did not choose a city from all the tribes of Israel to build a house for my Name to be there. I did not choose a man to be ruler over my people Israel. But now I have chosen Jerusalem as the place where my Name will be, and I have chosen David to be over my people Israel” (2 Chronicles 6:5-6). Jerusalem would be the place where God dwelt with his people, where his name would rest.

But that presence was a veiled presence. The pillar of cloud and fire (the visible sign of God’s presence that had led the Israelites out of Egypt) descended on the temple to signify that this was truly his house. Surely, God is omnipresent—is present everywhere all the time at once—but in Jerusalem, he specially highlighted his presence. But his presence descended on the temple’s inner sanctuary, the Most Holy Place, when the Ark of the Covenant was placed there. Only the high priest could enter into that inner place, and even then, he could only go one day a year—on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. And on that singular, special day, he could not enter without the blood of a sacrifice made for his own sins and also for the sins of the people. At the temple, the dwelling of God was with his people, but only sort of. It wasn’t a full presence, and it certainly wasn’t made accessible to everyone. The New Jerusalem is going to take the original Jerusalem—even in its most idyllic form—and improve on it.

To understand the true nature of this New Jerusalem, we need to go back well before Solomon’s temple, David’s rule, or even the founding of that city at all. We need to go back to Eden, to where the dwelling of God was truly and directly with people. Before the fall into sin, Adam and Eve walked, lived, and worked alongside God. They were created in his image—in perfect harmony with his will—and thus had a perfect relationship with God beyond anything that we’ve ever experienced between people or even with God in this life.

But that closeness, that bond, that unity was completely uprooted when Adam and Eve sinned. They listened to Satan’s temptations and took fruit from the tree that God had told them not to eat from—the one command he had given them! And in that moment, everything changed. Instead of walking with God, they hid from God. Instead of being united with God and agreeing with his will, they started playing the blame game for their sin, Adam even blaming God, accusing him of giving him a supposedly faulty wife in Eve. Where there had been unity, there was division. Death is that division—physical death that would divide soul from body, spiritual death that would divide people from God through unbelief, and ultimately, eternal death that would separate sinners from God forever in hell.

From then on, despite God’s presence and providence, it could not be said that God and human beings dwelled together. A wall of sin divided us from the divine, and it was a wall that we could not tear down or dig through. Sin was a problem that we could not solve.

The solution to that problem was hinted at in the Tabernacle and Solomon’s temple. There was a way to come into that Most Holy Place, but as we said, access was limited to just the high priest, and he needed the blood of a sacrifice for sin to enter. Later, the apostle Paul would make it clear and blunt that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). Later, the writer to the Hebrews would add on, assuring us that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22). In order to solve sin, blood and death have to be involved.

But not ours. I mean, it should be ours, but there’s no way for your death or my death to bring about forgiveness, because if the punishment for our sins is laid on us, that punishment will never end. No, if sin was to be solved, if we were ever to have an actual reunion with God, someone would have to take our place. And not just any someone, but God himself. And that’s exactly what he did.

Jesus, God from eternity, took on our human flesh and lived in a state of humiliation among us. Isaiah had foretold his coming with the title “Immanuel,” meaning “God with us.” God’s dwelling was with people again, and while this was more visible and robust than the dwelling shown at the temple, it was a temporary dwelling, like a few nights’ stay in a tent while camping.

That temporary stay saw its conclusion at the cross. There, Jesus completely and fully took our place under the punishment our sins had earned. He took those wages of our sin—eternal death—onto himself and made satisfaction for them. As a human being, he was able to die for us; as God, that death was able to count for all people of all time. His death rescued us, and the proof of his victory is there in the tomb where they laid his body. Unlike the tombs of everyone else who has ever died, Jesus’ tomb is empty. He won the victory. He rescued us from the sin that made our dwelling with God impossible.

We heard God proclaim it in the last verse of our First Reading: “It is done.” While a different word in Greek, we can’t help but think of Jesus’ word from the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30). Nothing is left to be completed. There is no work that you or I need to do to make things right again. Jesus, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, did it all.

That means that we will not have a continuously veiled presence of God with us like we have right now. And it certainly means we don’t have a complete separation from God for eternity ahead of us, as our sins deserved. No, because of Jesus’ complete forgiveness, we look forward to a time when we will see God face to face. It will not be a temporary dwelling like Jesus’ first coming; it will be a permanent living directly with God forever. Like Eden, but without the threat of sin to ruin it.

Listen to how God describes this New Jerusalem, what living there would be like. These are probably familiar words, but let them wash over you this morning as something brand new: “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away.”

Like Jerusalem, but new and better. Truly, like Eden, but new and better. Like today, but new and immeasurably better.

Those who have gone before us, those who have died in faith, trusting in God’s promise of complete forgiveness, are already there in that New Jerusalem, that perfect city with no more death, sorrow, crying, or pain. That’s in part what we celebrate on this All Saints Day. We thank God for the perfect rest that he has given to his holy ones, washed clean in the blood of Jesus and brought into that heavenly dwelling.

But we also celebrate our own certainty that we will join their number. While we are not there yet, you and I are the saints of God, made holy in Jesus’ full and free forgiveness for us. When our time comes, God will bring us to that New Jerusalem, rescue us from everything that would harm us, and cut away the sin that so easily entangles us. We will be reunited with those who have gone before us and those who will come after us for an eternity of being people who dwell with God.

So, my fellow saints, welcome to the New Jerusalem. We haven’t crossed the threshold just yet, but it is absolutely certain that we will, for Jesus’ sake! Thanks be to God! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria