“The marriage of the Lamb has come, and his bride has prepared herself.” Revelation 19:7
My husband and I chose to have a small wedding, surrounded by just forty-two of our closest friends and family. Because it was a simple affair and because I considered myself somewhat of a wedding professional after participating in countless weddings during my single years, I decided against a wedding planner. This would save us money, and I could easily give direction to everyone from my vast wealth of experience.
Are you laughing? As you can imagine, our wedding rehearsal was not going so well when one of my bridesmaids—who was actually a wedding and event planner—stepped in and saved the day. If ever I learned the importance of rehearsal, it was then.
Facing my own death has made me think of another kind of rehearsal for an infinitely better wedding where you and I, and all believers, are the bride. We’re practicing for the promise of Revelation 19:7:
The marriage of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has prepared herself.
His bride has prepared herself—how? The next verse tells us that
She was given fine linen to wear, bright and pure.
For the fine linen represents the righteous acts of the saints. (Rev. 19:8)
The bride is dressed in the purest, most gorgeous gown of “righteous acts,” or goodness. But now we’re knee-deep in mystery, because Isaiah tells us that “all our righteous acts are like a polluted garment” (Is. 64:6). So which one is it? How can the bride’s wedding dress be both pure and polluted? Look again at Revelation 19:8. My heart overflows as I read these three words:
She was given . . .
This marriage is unlike any other. The Bridegroom chose His bride before He created the world (Eph. 1:4), and He set His affections on her before she’d done even one good thing. In fact, not only had she done nothing good—she was bent on everything bad.
Jesus died, He was buried, then He burst out of the tomb, defeating death—so that we could be His bride, so that we could be dressed in Him (Gal. 3:27). Apart from Him, our good works are filthy. But in Him, our works are bright and pure. It’s the picture Isaiah paints for us:
I exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation and wrapped me
in a robe of righteousness, as a groom wears a turban and as a bride adorns herself with
her jewels. (Is. 61:10)
“He has clothed me . . . ” This is how the bride prepares herself. This is how we get ready for our epic, everlasting marriage: we let Jesus dress us in His goodness, in Himself, and as we remain in Him (John 15), He gives us good works to do (Eph. 2:10)—He gives us the “righteous acts” that become the dazzling materials of our future wedding dress.
My own wedding dress was handmade by a gifted colleague of mine. “What’s the wedding dress of your dreams?” Crystal asked me at work one day, shortly after I’d gotten engaged. When I showed her a picture of Carolyn Bessette’s wedding gown, Crystal stunned me by saying, “I want to make that dress for you as my wedding gift to you.” I couldn’t believe it. I got to choose the exact materials and notions and give input on the details as Crystal crafted my dream dress.
But a far more dazzling dress awaits us. And while it’s being tailor-made by the Creator Himself, we get to work on it with Him. We get to labor alongside Him at the good works He’s dreamed up for us (Eph. 2:10, Col. 1:29).
What I do today matters . . . forever. While selfishness, pettiness, and pride are cheap and common clothing, by the power of God’s Spirit in me, I can dress in rare and precious materials like the ones Paul described:
Therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and dearly loved, put on compassion, kindness,
humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another. . .
. Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you are also to forgive. Above all, put on love,
which is the perfect bond of unity. (Col. 3:12–14)
By faith and with God’s strength, we can put on what lasts: we can be compassionate with a hurting heart, we can humble ourselves instead of demanding our way, we can be gentle and patient with someone’s weakness, we can love our enemy. As we do, we’re dressing in the life of Christ. We’re using indestructible materials that will become the gorgeous garment we collectively wear as the bride of Christ.
But what happens when we don’t do this well—when we fail to work with God’s strength and instead give in to our sinful nature? We look to our Bridegroom who began this good work in us and who will be faithful to finish it (Phil. 1:6; 2 Tim. 2:13; 1 Thess. 5:24). Jesus boiled it all down to this when He said, “This is the work of God—that you believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:29).
Belief in Jesus is the greatest work we do. We look away from ourselves, from our own efforts and abilities, flaws and failings—and we “believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him” (Heb. 11:6). To know Him is not only the highest goal of our lives here (Phil. 3:12–17), but also the highest pleasure of all eternity. Every time we turn our thoughts to Him, seek Him in His Word or prayer, confess our sin to Him, say “yes” to Him, we’re getting ready to enjoy Him more fully at Home. We’re preparing our wedding clothes with Him. We’re anticipating our magnificent marriage to Him.
Until then, we labor for what lasts (1 Cor. 15:58), with hearts full of Home and the promise of His presence.
{If you enjoyed this blog post, you will also like this episode of The Love Offering Podcast, where Rachael chats with Colleen Chao about facing her darkest days of life with hope and joy and purpose. Colleen shares wisdom and encouragement for those who are suffering. You can listen to the episode here.}
About the Author:
COLLEEN CHAO writes about God’s goodness in the unexpected chapters of her life, including singleness, chronic illness, and terminal cancer. She makes her home just outside Boise, Idaho, with her husband, Eddie, and their son, Jeremy.
