Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1576
“The Throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it.” Revelation 22:3.
WE shall take these words as referring to Heaven. Certainly it is most true of the Celestial City as well as of the millennial city, that the Throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it. This theme of surpassing interest intimately concerns all of us who are Believers, for to the eternal rest at the foot of the Throne we are constantly looking. Were it otherwise, I fear there would be little prospect of our ever passing the heavenly portals. We do not suppose that a man is shooting at a target if he does not look that way. Nor can we imagine that a man’s ambition is fixed on Heaven if he has no thoughts or aspirations toward Heaven.
The pilgrim turns his steps towards the place he is desirous to reach. Though he cannot catch a glimpse of the distant spot which is the goal of his hope, yet his eyes are in that direction. Let him climb a hill on a clear day and you will see how he strains his eyes to catch a glimpse of tower or spire, minaret or battlement of the city he is seeking. When he descends the valley and the outlook is dreary, he solaces his soul with songs in the night that tell of “a day’s march nearer home.” The anticipated greetings of friends gladden his heart. After a noble fashion the prospect of Heaven lights up our sad days with gleams of Glory, while our happy Sabbaths here, below, have often made us long for the sanctuary on high.
In the crowded courts of this Tabernacle our fancy has pictured the Temple above of living stones and countless worshippers. Bunyan speaks of Mount Clear from which, with aid of telescope, the Celestial City might be seen in the distance. We have enjoyed intervals when no clouds or mists have obstructed our outlook and these have usually come to us on the Lord’s days. A friend of mine, when he went to reside in Newcastle-on-Tyne, was looking over a newly-built house that was to let and as he looked out of the window in the top room, the landlord said to him, “You can see Durham Cathedral from here on a Sunday.” My friend, failing, at first, to catch his meaning, said, “Why on Sunday more than any other day? “Well,” said he, the furnaces are not going and the smoke is not rising to darken the atmosphere.”
I was not surprised to hear that the passing incident supplied my friend with a parable the next time that he preached. On special Sabbaths we peer into the city of which our text says—“The Throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it.” God grant that our meditations may stir your longings upward and that our discourse may excite your desires towards Heaven! Come, then, let us think about the Throne of God and of the Lamb and of the place where it is. But stop a moment—I want you to look round and take a preliminary survey of the scene. Do you notice that this Throne is the “Throne of God and of the Lamb”?
Doubtless you know where John got that phrase, that title for Christ—“the Lamb.” It is almost peculiar to Himself. You catch the note in Isaiah—Jesus is celebrated as a Lamb in his prophecies. You hear the name in an Epistle of Peter and in the Acts of the Apostles as a quotation from the evangelical Prophet. But with John it is a most familiar term. John, the best beloved of all the disciples of Jesus, loves this sweet symbol and delights to speak of his Lord as “the Lamb.” This John bad been a disciple of that other John, the Baptist, whose chief and choicest sermon, which lingered most in his mind and memory, was couched in words like these—“Behold the Lamb of God, which takes away the sin of the world.”
John the Baptist struck a note which vibrated throughout the whole life of John the Divine. In Patmos John recalls his early impressions, for old men delight in the scenes and sayings of their youth. When John began his Gospel, he was absorbed in, “the Word.” Now that he unfolds the wondrous scroll of vision, he portrays “the Lamb.” As the keynote of Redemption, the name recurs frequently in his writings and, in his closing book, the name comes back to him with all its music and he dwells upon it with evident delight. The word, “arnion,” as used in the Book of Revelation, might be translated, “a little lamb.” It is a diminutive in the Greek text, expressive, as Dean Woodhouse observes, of tenderness and
love. And in such sense our Savior, Himself, used it in addressing Peter after His resurrection—“Do you love Me? Feed My lambs.”
I refer to the idiom without any wish to see the common rendering altered, but it seems to show a marvelous degree of familiarity in John’s mind with his blessed Master, when he looks upon Him as the little Lamb to be loved, for you know how apt we are to express affection in diminutive terms. “My little dear,” or, “my little darling,” are expressions that trip sweetly from our tongues. On the other hand, were we to say, “my dear big daughter,” or, “my dear tall son,” the words would sound awkward. We naturally give diminutive names to our favorites. Thus you will observe, dear Friends, that while our Divine Lord has names of infinite majesty which appeal to our loftiest homage, He also has names of pure simplicity like, “the Holy Child Jesus” and “the Little Lamb,” when He appears to us innocent as a babe, or suffering, as a Sacrifice.