And the sea was no more ....

A short while ago, I found myself preaching on a passage from Revelation ... by choice. This was unusual as I normally turn and run in the other direction rather than delving into Revelation, partly as a result of my experience of this book while growing up. As a teenager in the late nineties, my view of Revelation was strongly influenced by books such as Frank Peretti’s This Present Darkness, picturing Revelation as an epic cosmic battle where beleaguered Christians are swept to heaven while the world burns. But as I grew, I began to discover that this interpretation did not sit well with me. Over time, I came to realize that John’s vision is less about evacuation but is instead about transformation, of renewal rather than destruction. Recently as I have started to come to grips with my ADHD diagnosis, I have found myself revisiting that sermon, but this time through the lens of ADHD.

The passage in question was Revelation 21: 1-6. As I was reading, I found myself drawn to a specific line from verse one: "And the sea was no more. "This was the first time I had ever noticed this line. Now, as someone who grew up on the coast and loves sailing, the idea of a world without the sea is almost unthinkable. Even though I don't get to go sailing today, the coast remains one of my favourite places and one of the few places where my mind is somewhat still.

In Scripture, “the sea” often symbolizes chaos: Leviathans rising, armies drowned, the deep threatening everything ordered. Likewise, my brain can feel a little primordial with racing thoughts, shifting focus, and emotions surging like storm waves. Yet just as Genesis shows God’s Spirit hovering over the deep, and Jesus calms the stormy sea, I often find that spending time with God in prayer and worship can help to bring a sense of calm and stillness to my chaotic thoughts. When John writes “and the sea was no more,” perhaps it isn’t erasing the sea, but God’s perfect mastery over chaos.

To me, Revelation 21 shows more than a rebuilt cosmos; it shows a God who lives with us through all of the storms and chaos, through the rejection and criticism. Who sees who I am behind the mask and bizarrely actually likes that person! This isn’t a quick‑fix makeover, but the same Jesus who wept at Lazarus’s tomb, not distant but down in the waves with us.

To be honest, I’m not one hundred percent sure that I want that storm to be completely calmed. Some of my best and most creative thinking comes out of the chaos. There are a lot of articles out there talking about how the ADHD brain is amazing at coming up with creative solutions, and I wonder if that is part of the point of God inviting humanity to partner with them in creation. Maybe we can bring some creative spark that is needed in creation. A massive trope in science fiction and fantasy is the dangers that come with living in a society or reality that is “too perfect,” where there is no innovation and no creativity, and everything becomes stagnant. This kind makes me wonder whether chaos is actually a necessary part of creation, not something that is done away with, but rather something which is stilled and brought under some degree of control.