Schooch Over: 4 Ways We Take God’s Throne

The Throne

There is a throne at the center of heaven, and it blazes with a light that has no source.
It is so vast, so absolute, so radiant, that the earth and the heavens flee from it.

Around it, four living creatures keep watch — one like a lion, one like an ox, one with the face of a man, one like an eagle with its wings spread wide. They do not rest. Day and night they cry the same words:
Holy. Holy. Holy.

Surrounding the throne are twenty-four elders robed in white, gold crowns on their heads. When the living creatures cry out, the elders cast their crowns to the floor.

In the right hand of the One on the throne is a scroll — written on both sides, sealed with seven seals. A mighty angel fills the air with a question so enormous it echoes through every level of the cosmos:
Who is worthy?

The answer comes back from every corner of creation:
No one.

A silence falls — not peaceful, but heavy with impossibility.

Then one of the elders speaks:
Do not weep. Look.

Standing at the very center of the throne, encircled by the living creatures and the elders, is a Lamb — looking as if it had been slain. The wounds are still there. But the Lamb is standing.

He walked forward. He took the scroll from the right hand of the One on the throne.

The room erupted. Every voice in heaven — the creatures, the elders, angels beyond counting, and a multitude no one could number from every nation and language and tribe — all of it aimed in one direction:
You were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.

The Father has entrusted all judgment to the Son. And before Him, every person must stand. Every life must give an account. Nothing concealed will remain hidden. What was done in darkness will be brought into the daylight.

He is a righteous judge — a good God in whom there is no darkness at all. And He knows every person. Not just what can be seen from the outside. He searches the heart. He knows the intimate details of every life.

Scooch Over

Now picture this.

The living creatures are still crying Holy. The elders still have their faces to the floor. Ten thousand times ten thousand angels fill the air. A multitude beyond counting stretches in every direction.

And then a woman pushes through.

She walks across the sea of glass, clear as crystal… and stops before the throne.

She looks at the seat. She looks at the Lamb. Then — without a second thought — she makes a little sweeping gesture with her hand.

“Schooch. Schooch schooch” she says to the one on the throne. And pushes her way onto the judgment seat.

Condemnation

She clears her throat. She has judgments to make.

John. “Selfish and stupid. No good. That’s just who you are.”

Dad. “You were never there. You’re checked out. Critical. Mean. I never want to be anything like you. You’re a bad parent and a bad person.”

Daniel. “You always had to be right. You never listened. You never took responsibility for anything. At some point it just became obvious what this was. You’re a narcissist. That’s all you are.”

Self Condemnation

Before she can gather her papers, a man shoulders past her. He doesn’t even look at her. He sits down, smooths his jacket, and folds his hands. He has no verdicts to read. No list. His case is simpler than that.

“I’m to blame.” He opens his mouth — and closes it. Opens it again. He pauses, shuffles his papers, then quieter: “I’m a failure. I’m too much. I’m weak. Unlovable. I should have known better. I deserve to be alone. There’s something just… fundamentally flawed in me.”

He sets down the papers. Verdicts rendered.

The Lamb turns toward him. The wounds are visible. The hand extends — not in judgment, but open. An offer. And from every direction, the voices rise again: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, and with his blood he purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.”

“Can you see yourself through my eyes? You did not make yourself, I made you. I am the potter. You are the clay. I’ve made you fearfully and wonderfully. You are my handiwork.” When you judge yourself you judge the one who made you.” He leans in with compassion, “I know you’ve fallen short from my original design for you but I still love you. I love you enough to die for you and cover over all of your shortcomings. Will you accept the sacrifice I made?”

The man looks up at Jesus, tightens his jaw, and says, “I already know the truth about me. Nothing can change that.”

And he sits there — on the judgment seat, sentencing himself — while the offer remains open and the voices of everyone who loves him go unheard.

Self Justification

A well-dressed woman slides in from the other side before he finishes the sentence — composed, put together, the kind of person who has learned how to explain her life in a way that makes sense of it.

She is unhurried. Comfortable. She sets her bag down, crosses her legs, and sighs.

“I’ve looked at my life,” she says, “and honestly? I’m good. I made some mistakes, sure, but I’m only human. But given everything I went through — given what they put me through — I think I’m justified. I’ve done better than most. I mean, look at the people here… I’m smarter and more hard working then most of them. Most of the mistakes I’ve made are my mother’s fault. I’ve been very successful and done what I set my mind to. I think I deserve eternal life. I’ve earned it. ”

She glances at the Lamb.

“I think you’ll agree.”

She moves past the one on the throne barely noticing him and ignoring his pleas that she is walking in the wrong direction.

Judging God

The fourth one barely pauses before taking the seat. A man, relaxed, arms open wide.

“Be kind to everybody,” he says brightly. “No judgment here.”

The Lamb is quiet.

“I just think people need to feel accepted. I accept everyone. Everything is acceptable.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone should be judged. People should be able to do whatever they want. ”

He glances at the throne.

“And if some goes around saying they know what’s right and what’s wrong—then I just don’t agree with that. That feels harsh. Narrow. Who really gets to decide what’s good anyway? Truth is just an idea that we all get to make up ourselves.”

He leans back.

“Anyone who says otherwise is mean, judgmental, narrow minded, and just plain wrong. They deserve to be ostracized and punished.”

Who Is On The Throne

All four people when finished sitting on the judgment throne, move past the lamb and go their own way.