06.08.2025
Saint Francis
The Gift of Community to Overcome Isolation
Revelation Series Part 4
Sermon for August 3, 2025
8th Sunday after Pentecost – Pr. Bea Chun, St. Francis Lutheran Church
Grace to you and peace
from the One who is,
and the One who was,
and the One who is to come.
Welcome back to our sermon series
on the Book of Revelation.
Today is Part 4 of the series.
Previously in this series,
we have traveled back in time
to various locations mentioned
in the Book of Revelation.
We have journeyed to the island of Patmos,
where John was in exile.
We have visited the church in Sardis,
where we imagined a community of the faithful
offering a sense of order and grounding
in a fractured world.
Last Sunday, we traveled to the church in Philadelphia—
the smallest, the poorest,
and the most faithful of all the churches.
We imagined how the believers there
made a daily choice:
to worship the Lamb who was slain,
rather than the emperor who slays.
And today, we are traveling to Pergamum.
Of all the places mentioned
in the Book of Revelation,
I feel the deepest and most emotional
connection with this city.
It was because of Pergamum that I planned a trip to Turkey
with my spouse and a dear friend two years ago.
For years, I had been fascinated
by this ancient city.
I had read books, visited the famous
Pergamon Museum in Berlin, Germany,
and even explored a special exhibit
in my own hometown.
You could say I was a little obsessed.
And then, finally—
in the fall of 2023—
I saw it with my own eyes.
It was even better and greater
than I had imagined.
We had many amazing encounters
during that trip,
and saw so many impressive sites.
But Pergamum was one of the highlights
of our journey.
When you arrive, you find not one city,
but two.
There is the modern-day Turkish city of Bergama,
a small town in the Caicus River valley — a charming place,
where you can find handmade carpets,
locally crafted goods,
produce, olives, and herbs.
We stayed in a traveler’s inn — modest but comfortable.
It was built around a courtyard filled with flowers.
A peaceful, hospitable place.
By the look of it,
you would never guess
that this sleepy little town
was once the capital
of the Attalid Kingdom —
an ancient Hellenistic kingdom
that arose after the death
of Alexander the Great.
So: Bergama — modest and quiet.
But then we traveled up the hill.
A very steep hill.
It loomed high above the valley.
The road was long and winding,
full of serpentine curves.
And then — we arrived.
And our jaws dropped.
We reached the ruins
of what was once
a magnificent acropolis.
There were remnants of grand temples.
Palaces.
A massive amphitheater carved into the hillside.
The scale was breathtaking.
Everything was monumental.
Even across time and space,
you could feel the grandeur,
the power,
the wealth,
the beauty,
and the astonishing craftsmanship
of that place.
In the time when John of Patmos
wrote his letter,
Pergamum was a major administrative center
in the Roman province of Asia.
It had wealth.
It had influence.
But above all,
it was a stronghold
of emperor worship —
even more so than many other cities
in Asia Minor.
Pergamum was home to many temples:
to Zeus, Athena, Dionysus, and Asclepius —
whose symbol was the serpent.
The Asclepion was a major healing sanctuary.
It drew visitors from all over the empire.
There, religious loyalty was intertwined
with public health and civic life.
Christians in Pergamum
would have felt immense pressure to conform —
not just to blend in,
but to survive.
This was a particular concern for John.
He worried about this church
more than any of the others.
And he writes:
“I know where you live: you live where Satan’s throne is.”
(Revelation 2:13)
And he was right to be concerned.
The persecution of the faithful
was harshest in Pergamum.
Later Christian tradition tells us
that their bishop, Antipas,
was burned alive inside a bronze bull-shaped altar
used for sacrifices to pagan gods.
But now, without further ado,
let us travel back in time
to visit the church in Pergamum.
Today, I imagine the following scenario:
We arrive at the comfortable and spacious home
of Nicanor — one of the wealthier members
of the congregation.
His home is near the river Caicus.
The house is filled with
a festive atmosphere.
Because today is a day of baptisms.
Twelve catechumens have prepared
for a whole year.
And today is the day.
Let’s meet some of them:
Miriam, the widow.
Grey-haired. Slow to speak.
Once offered incense to the goddess Hygeia.
Now prays only to the Lamb.
Silas, a Roman soldier’s son.
He learned to read by copying Caesar’s decrees.
Now he recites John’s words from Patmos by heart.
Ione, a freedwoman.
Sold in Smyrna, ransomed by her own hands.
She brings her niece, Persis,
a child with one blind eye.
Both of them radiant with hope.
Attalus, a merchant in fine robes.
His house adorned with busts of emperors.
He smashed them last week.
They say he will lose everything.
He says he has found everything.
Gaius, the goat herder.
He smells of dust and wool.
He speaks little.
But when he prays, heaven leans in.
And half a dozen more.
Rich and poor.
Old and young.
Greek. Phrygian. Jew. Roman.
They have listened.
They have learned.
They have fasted.
They have counted the cost.
They know what it means
to reject the gods.
To renounce the emperor’s image.
To follow the Lamb.
It is the Lord’s Day.
And the courtyard of Nicanor
is filled with joyful anticipation.
There are flowers and incense.
Tables are laden with the finest food.
They begin with prayer and singing.
Then each candidate tells their faith story.
Already they have faced many hardships —
from family members who cut them off,
from employers who fired them,
and from soldiers who threatened them.
But their faith is strong.
After the faith stories,
they sing more songs together.
And then — it is time.
Time to go to the river for baptism.
This is the most dangerous part.
They must be careful.
Very careful.
But luckily,
this is just an ordinary day
for everyone else.
Only the Christians
observe the Lord’s Day.
So they pretend they are going
to the river to do laundry.
The women even bring real laundry,
to make it more believable.
The men pretend to help carry heavy loads.
They gather at a secluded spot
just beyond the reeds,
in a bend where the water quiets.
And when no one is looking,
the twelve and their sponsors
step into the water.
Words are spoken.
Promises made.
Blessings given.
“I renounce the beast,” they say.
“I belong to the Lamb.”
The water splashes.
The wind lifts.
A dove cries in the distance.
They submerge.
The water closes above their heads.
And then they rise.
It is done.
When they return,
there is a surprise waiting for them:
A new letter from John
has been smuggled through the city
and arrived at the house of Nicanor
just in time for the celebration.
How wonderful —
a letter from John of Patmos!
He worries for them.
He prays for them.
He sends words of comfort and care.
And now he begins to share
a vision of an everlasting worship —
a vision full of joy.
They hand the scroll to newly baptized Silas.
He has the honor of reading it aloud:
“After this I looked,
and there was a great multitude
that no one could count,
from every nation,
from all tribes and peoples and languages,
standing before the throne and before the Lamb,
robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.
They cried out in a loud voice, saying,
‘Salvation belongs to our God
who is seated on the throne,
and to the Lamb!’
And all the angels stood around the throne
and around the elders and the four living creatures,
and they fell on their faces before the throne
and worshiped God, singing:
'Amen!'
'Blessing and glory and wisdom
and thanksgiving and honor
and power and might
be to our God forever and ever! Amen.’
Then one of the elders addressed me, saying,
‘Who are these, robed in white,
and where have they come from?’
I said to him, ‘Sir, you are the one who knows.’
Then he said to me,
‘These are they who have come out of the great ordeal;
they have washed their robes
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
For this reason they are before the throne of God
and worship him day and night within his temple,
and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them.
They will hunger no more, and thirst no more;
the sun will not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.
For the Lamb at the center of the throne
will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them
to springs of the water of life,
and God will wipe away
every tear from their eyes.’”
(Revelation 7:9–17)
A great multitude
that no one could count!
From every nation,
from all tribes,
peoples, and languages—
standing before the throne
and before the Lamb.
Yes, the faithful in Pergamum were a small
and oppressed group of faithful.
But they were part
of something large.
Larger and more magnificent
than all the buildings on the acropolis.
They were part of a vast community.
A community that extended
from earth to heaven and back again.
A multitude of multitudes.
So many that no one could count them.
Yes, the path they had chosen
was dangerous.
But they were not walking alone.
There were loving arms
and faithful prayers all around them.
Beside them.
Above them.
A mysterious communion
that extends beyond time and place.
The body of Christ.
The Lamb holding them all together
in divine life—
life everlasting.
And you and I,
we are part of this communion as well.
We are connected to the multitudes
who worship in heaven,
we are connected to the first believers
who refused to bow to the emperor
and chose to follow the lamb,
not matter the cost.
All of us belong to this great mysterious community
held together by the one who is
and the one who was
and the one who is to come.
Thanks be to God.
Amen!
The text: Revelation 7:9-17
The Multitude from Every Nation
After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice, saying,
“Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne and to the Lamb!”
And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, singing,
“Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom
and thanksgiving and honor
and power and might
be to our God forever and ever! Amen.”
Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” I said to him, “Sir, you are the one who knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
For this reason they are before the throne of God
and worship him day and night within his temple,
and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them.
They will hunger no more and thirst no more;
the sun will not strike them,
nor any scorching heat,
for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of the water of life,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
