Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 3

Follow-Through

As I assist my clients, one of the main things I find myself doing is making note of what sorts of things are piling up, and why.

A big pattern I am seeing emerge is a lack of follow-through.

For most of us, a common pattern looks like this: we come in the door with an arm full of stuff and set in on the first available surface. Then we might run immediately to the bathroom or answer a call or text (or both at the same time), or respond to a pet or child or spouse, or otherwise rush to prepare for the next obligation in our overly busy day.  And while we intend to follow through on the mail sorting, and/or putting away the shopping, and/or putting away the random possessions that are returning to the house, we actually rarely get back to putting away that latest pile of stuff lying on whatever surface is nearest the door.

This is such a common dynamic for my clients, I am now surprised when I enter a home and don't find the inevitable pile of unprocessed mail, flotsam, and jetsam somewhere near the main entrance.  It takes mindfulness and a certain amount of self-discipline to return and process those things, and honestly, most of us don't often have the disposable time.

For myself, I have had to build into my expectations and time-budgeting the intention to process all that stuff shortly after getting home, and slowly this behavior is becoming a habit. Instead of shifting into the next gear the minute I get in the door, I choose to stay with all the things I've just brought in the door until they are all processed. Mail gets sorted into instant recycling, instant shredding, and the place on my desk where bills and such go to await my desk time. Groceries and shopping items get put all the way away including all the bags and receipts.

Done. All done.  It is a wonderful new pattern.

There are always days when I get distracted or way-laid or am short on time. Those days I often walk into our kitchen later in the day to find unprocessed stuff still sitting on the table.  Of course, there are those days!  But building the habit and intending to maintain it helps me reduce their number a great deal. (Also, we live in a tiny space, and there simply is no spare flat surface for dumping. We NEED the kitchen table for too many uses, so we have to keep an eye on the secondary dumping spots as well, which have a tendency to collect items moved quickly off the table. These locations---that space between the books and the next shelf, that corner of the desk in the next room---can collect unprocessed junk just as fast as any primary dumping spot. But the complete shortage of space certainly encourages better habits in managing the little we do have.)

This lack of follow-through can show up with dishes sitting in or near the sink, with laundry on the floor or near the laundry basket, with piles of items near the stairs waiting to go up or down (which we pass repeatedly without actually bringing them along). We have the intention to be tidier.  But we are missing some key step between our intention and our actual follow-through.  All too often the lack of follow-through results in a mound of neglected tasks still awaiting our attention. And as that mound grows to a mountain, the very size itself becomes a deterrent.

I don't think the lack of follow-through is necessarily laziness.  I think sometimes it is fueled by a habit of rushing, or perhaps it is some rebellious "I don't want to" left over from childhood.  Sometimes when I walk in the door, my brain decides I am "done" and I go straight to resting or playing, forgetting to finish the final steps of returning---the equivalent of the child repeatedly dropping the coat on the floor (though at age 57 I do at least hang up my coat). It is certainly a lack of mindfulness---not an immoral thing per se, but not something that benefits me either.  My auto-pilot just isn't very enlightened and I am often quite simply tired.

And yet it is when I am tired that staying present and completing the tasks of follow-through feel spiritual. Not only does it take mindful presence and a kind of surrender, but it also requires that I refuse to rush and to give my future self the gift of a clean and completed space.

There is some connection between good personal self-care and good care of our spaces. It is not linear or pure or black and white. Beautiful, wise, and creative people can be found inhabiting all sorts of spaces, from the very chaotic to the very ordered.

But for me, there is something spiritual about taking care of my surroundings, be they mine or simply a public washroom I may use. It feels like respect and care for the next person to enter the space.  It is an act of care for my future self at home and an act of care for some traveler whom I may never meet in the public space. They are connected for me. It is a way of living the Golden Rule, to show respect for the one who will follow me. It makes my soul feel good.

Follow-through. That thing the gym teacher harped on about. It turns out it is important in all parts of life, not just tennis or baseball.  Even if you are not interested in leaving the public washroom cleaner than you found it, do your own self the service of following through on intended tasks at home promptly. Don't leave them until "later" unless you are actually good at returning and finishing the job in a reasonable amount of time. (Several weeks is not a reasonable amount of time.)

And as you succeed and fail and succeed again, be kind to yourself.  This stumbling and wavering and returning to the plan again and again is exactly what the process looks like.

For the other entries in this series, see below.

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 1

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 2

Beauty in Breakdown - a sermon

Beauty in the Breakdown

Rev. Alison Longstaff, March 16, 2014

Bath Church of the New Jerusalem

2 Samuel 7:1-7, 11b -13, and Mark 13:1-8; HS 8165:2

(these readings are found at the end of the sermon)

In Swedenborgian theology, we believe that the Bible contains the story of each person’s spiritual journey from first awakening through to full enlightenment and integration. 

Among other things it tells the story of every stage of our relationship with God in great detail.  I truly love this way of understanding the Bible.  The more I study the Scriptures through this lens, the more beauty and compassion I find in its pages. 

You may already know all this, being in George Dole’s congregation, but let me review it anyway.  It begins in Eden, a garden with a tree of life and a big river, and all sorts of good fruits to eat.  We begin in a garden—a garden with only one way out and no going back once we leave—like the womb, like the innocence of early childhood.  There follows a lot of grief and bloodshed, magic and miracles, mistakes and renewals in the middle of the story, and then it ends in the Holy City, the New Jerusalem.  What a ride!

Now, the Hebrew Testament describes our spiritual birth and childhood years. It then progresses through our adolescent years, with our struggle to find identity and a spiritual presence.  Then it moves to the more settled years of young adulthood, still with struggles and battles, but with a “landed” identity.  Then there is a time of relative peace, (“relative” is in italics) under King David.  Finally we reach a pinnacle in King Solomon—whose wisdom was renowned around the world.  King Solomon who had wealth and fame and many, many wives.

I don’t know about you, but in my upbringing, it was King Solomon’s reign that was the pinnacle of the Hebrew Testament.  He had ALL the answers: “The wisdom of Solomon.”  Solomon was IT.  Solomon had arrived.  In fact, after his story, it is all rather down-hill, and nobody addressed that part in my childhood.  I guess the assumption was that we would get to the Solomon phase spiritually and not let things all slide after that.

But if the Biblical arc is the story of each person’s spiritual journey from first awakening through to full enlightenment and integration, how can Solomon’s reign truly be the pinnacle?  If so, our spiritual story is that we peak early, and then gradually become corrupted, broken, and lost. And everything after that is an attempt to regain what was lost and patch up what was broken. Well, that’s depressing!  Maybe we need to take a deeper look.  What else might Solomon’s story be illustrating in the human psyche? 

In our reading from 2 Samuel, we hear a conversation between God and King David.  David is living in a stone and wood house, and declares to God that he wants to build a stone and wood house for God too.  And what is God’s answer?  Do you remember?  God says, “I have not dwelt in a house from the day I brought the Israelites up out of Egypt to this day. I have been moving from place to place with a tent as my dwelling. Wherever I have moved with all the Israelites, did I ever say to any of their rulers whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?'”

God’s response is essentially, “No thank you.  This whole tent thing has really worked for me.”  God doesn't want a stone and wood house.  He does tell David that Solomon will build him a temple, but he never says he wants it, simply that that is what Solomon will do.

Think about it.  When God’s house is a tent, it is right down among the people.  It travels to where it is needed most.  It is designed to be taken down, moved, and set up again.  It is flexible.  Soft.  Not rigid.  It goes to the people where they are.  There is no security of place, perhaps, but in exchange for that security, it moves, lives, and meets the people where they are.  It is humble.

Once a temple is built, the place of worship is well, literally set in stone.  From that moment on, the practice of Israelitish worship changed profoundly.  The priesthood no longer went to the people; the people had to come to the priesthood.  Worshipers, no matter how far away they lived nor how poor they were, were expected to travel to the temple location in southernmost Canaan to worship “properly.”  The center of worship no longer moved around among the people according to God’s leadership, it was locked down to one place, and under the priesthood’s leadership. 

Because of this, worship inevitably became about the place and the building itself, not about the living, moving God.  The temple itself and its rituals became what was sacred.  In fact, when the temple was eventually torn down, the people no longer knew who they were, nor how to follow God without the temple.  This is a common spiritual story, yes?  When we are sure we have IT—when we think we have “arrived”—we stop learning. Religious certainty brings arrogance, self-centeredness, spiritual laziness, and a disconnection from reliance on the living God.

This inner shift happens every time we let rituals and habits and external customs replace or serve as a substitute for conscious, loving, attentive faith.  It is when law takes over from gospel. It is when formulaic answers take over from thoughtful reflection.  It reflects the times and ways we get attached to our traditions and “the way things have always been” and the familiar comforting faces, and we stop hearing how God might be calling us to welcome the stranger and be open to new spiritual life. 

Physically and metaphorically, stones provide security and power.  Stones make great foundations.  (And they are great for hurling at other folks, though perhaps that is not what we are meant to do with them.)  Stones are just what we need to keep from being washed away in a flood or blown away in a wind-storm.  But stones are not flexible.  They are not easily moved.  And they make lousy tents.  They are like bones—essential for support, but never meant to replace flexible, living muscles.

What follows almost immediately upon completion of the Temple in the Biblical story arc is division, corruption, breakdown and collapse, disintegration and death.  The final stories in the Old Testament are all about the loss of integrity in the Davidic line, the steady, systematic destruction of the great kingdom of Israel, and the eventual exile of what was left of the Israelitish nation into Babylon.  Bit by bit, Israel loses its center until finally the temple itself is destroyed.  We are left with stories of exile, and pages and pages of prophetic wailing.

 

Psalm 137 “By the rivers of Babylon, There we sat down, yea, we wept when we remembered Zion.” 

“Zion” is a metaphor for Jerusalem, for the temple, and the whole land of Israel.  In our personal lives Zion represents the center of all in which we have built our trust.  The center of our hopes and dreams.  The center of our universe.  Our spiritual and emotional foundation.  When we place our trust in something that is not spiritual, it is inevitable that it will let us down.

The building, the grandeur, and the eventual fall of the temple hold a metaphor about our spiritual journey.  It is the story of the destruction of inflexible, non-inclusive spiritual attitudes in the human race, and in each human heart.  God allows us to build these inflexible doctrines and beliefs in our hearts if we insist.  We do love security! But God cannot allow us to continue in such rigidity, or all that is truly spiritual in us will die.  Though the Hebrew Testament ends here, it is not the end of the story.  It is time for a paradigm shift.  In our spiritual hearts, the stone temples we have built must fall in order to set the stage for “Jesus” to come.  God incarnate, living, breathing, and walking beside us with a voice and a heartbeat wants to enter our story.  For the living God to come, the old and the rigid must be broken down.

God never commands us to build a “temple.”  God prefers to live in our hearts in a tent.  It is we who crave the certainty, the stability, and the … well, laziness we can relax into once we set our beliefs in stone—once we make church about membership standards or what people should believe—about buildings and rules, about in and out, about the right people and the wrong people.  We do this.  Humans do this with religion. It is so comfortable!  And individually, we all tend to cycle through phases of this in our own journey as well.  That is why this story is in the Bible.  We don’t have to do this, but most of us do do this at some time or another. 

We find this metaphor even within our human bodies.   Born soft and full of cartilage, with skull bones that float over the surface of our brains, we begin to harden from the moment of birth.  We ossify.  Much of this is necessary, or we would be too vulnerable and our bones would be too soft to support our weight when we stand. But we continue to stiffen and become increasingly rigid if we do not steadily work at our fitness and flexibility.  Unless we make an effort, we will relentlessly devolve into spiritual and physical gristle and bone.

Keeping our physical muscles fully flexible means we must constantly work to break down the adhesions and small strips of scar tissue that inevitably build up within them.  The breakdown of those hardening tissues can be pretty uncomfortable at times.  But the breakdown is necessary if we are to continue to choose a full and flexible life.  (Can you tell I do yoga?) This is true spiritually too.  Individually and as a congregation, it can sometimes be uncomfortable—it can even hurt a little—to do the stretching and moving we need to do to stay vibrantly alive as a spiritual community.  What were once dreams too easily settle into old patterns and habits.  Those old habits and patterns will get in the way of our growth if we do not regularly reexamine, renew, and revitalize our traditions and practices, attitudes and ideas.

In the face of any pain, the human tendency is to clench and to resist, not relax.  We often hold our breath. Letting go is the last thing we feel inclined to do.  But whenever we can breathe more deeply and let go just a little, we find relief and growth.  A few more fibers ease up.  A joint creaks open another fraction.  In fact we find increasing ease of movement and joy in living when we repeatedly expose ourselves to any intentional growth discipline. Despite the occasional discomfort, it is SO good for us to keep moving, be it through a yoga class or spiritual growth group, through running or Bible Study, swimming or psychotherapy.

The breaking down of our attachments can really hurt.  But it is necessary.  And according to the Bible, it is breaking ground for something better.

You see, the arc of the Bible ends in the Holy City.  It is a city with twelve gates, all open wide, where everyone can enter and no one need leave.  And look! the tree of life is right there in the center, and so is the River, and there are all sorts of wonderful fruits to eat….  It is as if we never really left Eden at all.  Or maybe Eden was the foretaste or promise of what awaits us at the end of our journey. Maybe God has had a plan all along. 

Are you struggling with dying dreams and stiffening hopes?  Just let go.  Breathe.  Trust. God may be breaking down your dying tissues so that you can live again.  Remember, the Temple must come down for Jesus to be born.  And the loss of Jesus leads to the Holy City.  So just let go. You don’t need to know what is being broken down nor what is coming next.  Just keep breathing.  Keep showing up, and keep letting go.  There really is beauty in the breakdown.

Revised from a sermon preached Aug 22, 2010

Musical interlude was the following:

Daniel Nahmod: “I Don’t Need To Know”

When things go wrong, it's natural to wonder  

What celestial rule did I break?  

When things go right, it’s logical to ponder  

What credit can I take?  

But the truth is so much easier  

I don't need a master plan  

I can live here in the moment  

'Cause my life is in good hands  

  

(chorus)  

I don't need to know where the wind blows 

'Cause God knows 

I don't need to know what the future holds 

'Cause God knows 

I need never know how pain ends 

How my heart mends 

I can just let go 

'Cause God knows   

But still I find I'm crying out for answers  

Guess I'm still craving control  

And still I find I'm afraid of taking chances  

As if I could damage my soul  

But at this moment, I remember  

It comes so clear to me  

That the minute I surrender  

I'm as safe as I could be  

  (chorus)

The Readings 

2 Samuel 7:1-7, 11b -13

When King David was settled in his palace and the Lord had given him rest from all the surrounding enemies, ² the king summoned Nathan the prophet. “Look,” David said, “I am living in a beautiful cedar palace, but the Ark of God is out there in a tent!”

³ Nathan replied to the king, “Go ahead and do whatever you have in mind, for the Lord is with you.”

⁴ But that same night the Lord said to Nathan,

⁵ “Go and tell my servant David, ‘This is what the Lord has declared: Are you the one to build a house for me to live in? ⁶ I have never lived in a house, from the day I brought the Israelites out of Egypt until this very day. I have always moved from one place to another with a tent and a Tabernacle as my dwelling. ⁷ Yet no matter where I have gone with the Israelites, I have never once complained to Israel’s tribal leaders, the shepherds of my people Israel. I have never asked them, “Why haven’t you built me a beautiful cedar house?”’

“‘Furthermore, the Lord declares that he will make a house for you—a dynasty of kings! ¹² For when you die and are buried with your ancestors, I will raise up one of your descendants, your own offspring, and I will make his kingdom strong. ¹³ He is the one who will build a house—a temple—for my name. And I will secure his royal throne forever.

Mark 13: 1-8

13 As Jesus was leaving the Temple that day, one of his disciples said, “Teacher, look at these magnificent buildings! Look at the impressive stones in the walls.”

² Jesus replied, “Yes, look at these great buildings. But they will be completely demolished. Not one stone will be left on top of another!”

³ Later, Jesus sat on the Mount of Olives across the valley from the Temple. Peter, James, John, and Andrew came to him privately and asked him, ⁴ “Tell us, when will all this happen? What sign will show us that these things are about to be fulfilled?”

⁵ Jesus replied, “Don’t let anyone mislead you, ⁶ for many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Messiah.’ They will deceive many. ⁷ And you will hear of wars and threats of wars, but don’t panic. Yes, these things must take place, but the end won’t follow immediately. ⁸ Nation will go to war against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in many parts of the world, as well as famines. But this is only the first of the birth pains, with more to come.

Heavenly Secrets 8165:2 Each person's power is limited, and when temptation stretches you to the absolute limit of your power, and you cannot stand up to anything further, you let go and begin to fall. Only then, when you have let go and started to fall, can the Lord catch you, lift you up, and deliver you from your despair. Frequently a person is then brought into a clear state of hope and comfort, and even into a state of bliss. Swedenborg, 

All Things New

All Things New - a sermon

August 11, 2013 at 9:38pm

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Rev. Alison Longstaff, Aug 9, 2013

Bath Church of the New Jerusalem, Maine

Scriptures: Luke 15: 1-10, Revelation 21: 1-7, Apocalypse Explained 675:10

These readings can be found at the end of this document, if desired.

Our text for today is, “Behold, I make all things new.” This is not just an observation in the voice of God.  This is a promise.  It is the same promise that gave birth to the resurrection of our Lord---the promise that nothing good ever truly dies.  No aspect of God’s love can ever cease to exist in any way.  It simply can’t.  The Love of God is the only reality and created all things, so every aspect and face of that love continues.  Death itself is an illusion.  Yes, the death of beloved time periods, of beloved relationships and institutions, and most especially of family and friends is a very real and painful part of mortal existence.  But mortal existence is not the end of the story.  It is just the prologue to a much bigger story. 

In the bigger story nothing good ever dies.  Jesus showed us this in the most profound way, and we see the theme recurring in many popular stories today: with Aslan, with Obi-wan Kenobi, with Gandalf, and yes, absolutely with Harry Potter.  The truth of this fact appears again and again: all that is truly wise and loving can never actually be killed, no matter how strong the forces of evil may seem to be.  Love wins, every time, by force of gentleness and persistence.  It can seem to die, and the loss is terrible at the time.  But it always returns transformed and more powerful than ever. All things can be made new. 

In preparing to come for this visit, I was emailing with Rev. George about the way candidating for a congregation feels a bit like dating.  George responded uncertainly, saying that that cast him in the role of the protective parent, with which role he wasn't thrilled.  I kept chewing on that metaphor, and my thoughts turned to, “Actually, George is more like the “ex…” except he is also supporting the congregation in finding the replacement spouse...  And the metaphor just got weirder after that.

I was left wondering if there is any metaphor that serves to describe the dance we are enjoying together this weekend?  This is indeed something like a first date.  A ministerial candidate could perhaps be seen to be something like a prospective adoptive parent?  Or even a step-mom?  But wouldn’t that make me “wicked?”  

No, this friendly looking-one-another-over keeps feeling like a mutual courtship.  It is somehow more than a job interview, due to the intimacy of the prospective relationship.  But it is not as intense and far reaching as a marriage proposal.  The pastor-parish relationship is somehow something unique in the world.  We are indeed here this weekend exploring the possibility of a committed relationship---one in which we all bring our individual strengths to the game and call out the best from each other.  This is not just a job interview.  Pastoring a church is so much more than a job.  It has a peculiar blending of civil and spiritual, of practical and mystical, of human and divine.  It is a sobering undertaking.  It is serious, and real, and weighty. 

As I sat down to reflect on the transition Bath is facing, I was flooded with images from the movie “Truly, Madly, Deeply.”  In it British actress Juliet Stevenson gives us a touching look at a newly widowed young woman trying desperately to reconcile herself to the loss of her husband.   We see intense grief. She has lost a best friend, a companion, half of her piano-cello duet; she has lost her life in so many ways, and the only way forward is through her grief.  It is a poignant, endearing, and tenderly told story of loss and new life, and in no way minimizes the real work involved in releasing the old to make room for the new.

When she gets stuck in the grief, her husband’s ghost, played tenderly by Alan Rickman, moves back into the flat with her.  Her joy and relief is palpable.  They cuddle and laugh and play music together the way they used to.  It seems idyllic at first, except for the awkward fact that he is dead and no one else can see him.  As the story goes on, she must continue to eat and sleep and go to work the way mortals do, while he grows paler and colder and increasingly lonely. He keeps turning up the heat to warm himself. And he invites hoards of ghost-friends over to keep him company while she is at work or when she is trying to sleep.  It becomes noisier and increasingly crowded in her flat.  Then he starts redecorating.  

She is less and less delighted.

Then a dear and very alive gentleman comes into her life.  Finally, she accepts his friendship.  When she heads off on a date with this new gentleman, we see her ghost-husband, surrounded by a host of his spectral buddies watching her go with a wistful grimace of satisfaction, that we realize he has been intentionally making himself a nuisance all along in order help her get over him.  That is how truly, madly, and deeply he loved her.

And this is where the Bath church’s story departs from the movie-plot, for beloved Rev. George is very much alive, and I don’t think he is capable of being a nuisance, even if he tried.  Still, there are several points of resonance.  George loves this church deeply, and wants with his whole heart to see you move forward in good hands.  Also, no matter who steps forward to lead you from this point on, there will be grief for the loss of what

has been.  To lose George as your leader is a loss indeed, and I want to acknowledge that the coming years will include sadness and nostalgia for Rev. George’s leadership-style.  Anyone who follows in his footsteps has the unmistakable disadvantage of not being him, with his gentleness, wise insights, and deep love of the doctrines.  Leave space for this sadness.  Try not to take it out on your new leader, nor on each other.  You are very blessed here, in that I suspect that George will be able to remain around as a mentoring and helping presence without conflict for your new leader, but bear in mind, there will still be pangs of loss.  There will be bumps in the transition.  Go gently with each other. Transformation is the end in sight and the promise, but transition is uncomfortable, and some grumpiness is inevitable.

“Behold, I make all things new,” is God’s promise to lead you into transformation, growth,and new life.  New life always involves a death of the old, but it need not mean irreparable loss nor a rapid change to something unrecognizable.  It need not nor should it leave anyone behind.  Every congregation goes through life cycles, and the Bath Church of the New Jerusalem is at a key point in its journey---you are primed to burst into new growth. 

The Lord can make this tiny congregation new.  God’s promise includes “everything,” as we read in today’s reading from Apocalypse Explained.  But one must sweep the house to find what is needed.  Our story from Luke does not say that the woman hesitated to sweep, or feared what she would find if she swept.  She didn't question whether she was worthy to be the mistress of all she would find or if she knew enough truth first.  She simply lit a candle, which means she brought her best love to light the way, and she swept house diligently.  She cleaned spiritual house, because that is the only way to find what was lost.  Apocalypse Explained says that “sweeping the house means to review everything inside one’s being, where the truth lies hidden.”  The truth lies hidden within one’s being, not outside of it.  This is speaking about the manna or goodness that God has tucked away inside each of us and inside this congregation.  It is saying that this congregation already has all it needs inside its gifts and strengths, to become what God intends. You already are and have all that you need, should you choose the path to growth.

“Behold, I make all things new,” says our Lord.  Now it is your time to grow!  Bring your best love, and get sweeping.  You will find you already have what it takes within you.  Congratulations on your courage to make this transition, and blessings as you go forward.  Thank you for the privilege of meeting you,and please know that no matter whom you choose as your new leader, I am sure good things lie ahead.  Fear not.

Amen.

The Readings:

Using the Inclusive Bible by Priests for Equality:

Luke 15: 1-10 Meanwhile the tax collectors and the “sinners” were all gathering around Jesus to listen to His teaching, ² at which the Pharisees and the religious scholars murmured, “This person welcomes sinners and eats with them.”³ Then Jesus addressed this parable to them:  ⁴ “Who among you, having a hundred sheep, and losing one of them, doesn’t leave the ninety-nine in open pasture, and search for the lost one until it’s found? ⁵ And finding it, you put the sheep on your shoulders in jubilation. ⁶ Once home, you invite friends and neighbors in and say to them, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep!’ ⁷ I tell you, in the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one repentant sinner than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need to repent.  ⁸ “What householder, who has ten silver pieces and loses one, doesn’t light a lamp and sweep the house in a diligent until she finds what she has lost? ⁹ And when it is found, the householder calls in her friends and neighbors and says, ‘Rejoice with me!  I have found the silver piece I lost!’ ¹⁰ I tell you, there will be the same kind of joy before the angels of God over one repentant sinner.”

Rev 21: 1-7 Then I saw new heavens and a new earth, for the former heavens and the former earth had passed away, and the sea existed no longer. ² Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, as beautiful as a bride prepared for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne, “Look, the tabernacle of God is among humankind,and God will abide with them, and they shall be God’s people. God will be fully present among them. ⁴ The Most High will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” ⁵ Then the One who sat on the throne said, “See, I make all things new;” and added, “Write; for these words are trustworthy and true.” ⁶ And that One continued, “It is finished. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To those who thirst I will give drink freely of the spring of the water of life. ⁷ This is the rightful inheritance of those who overcome. I will be their God and they shall be My daughters and sons.

From The Apocalypse Explained by Emanuel Swedenborg, paragraph # 675:10 

Ten signifies “a whole lot” and “everything.” Because of this, the number ten appears in passages where “a whole lot”and “everything” is to be understood, such as the story of the woman having ten pieces of silver. If she lost one piece, would she not light a candle and sweep the house, and seek carefully till she found it? (Luke xv. 8). Ten here signifies “everything.” There is spiritual meaning in every detail of the Word.In the spiritual meaning, “woman” signifies “the church” regarding its love for truth. A “piece of silver” stands for truth, and losing the piece of silver is about losing one’s understanding of the truth. Lighting a candle corresponds to self-examination from affection; sweeping the house means to review everything inside one’s being, where the truth lies hidden. This is the spiritual meaning of these words. A hundred, like ten, also signifies everything; therefore a similar parable speaks of a hundred sheep, and if one were lost (Matt. xviii 12, 13; Luke xv. 3-7).