There is a rainbow around the throne. The radiance of light shining out from this One on the throne makes a rainbow. If one wonders how God can look down on the misery and sin, the rebellion and wretchedness that dominate most of the earth, here is the answer. His finger is never off the pulse. He knows all as we never can. And he feels as we never do the pain of life, and the discord of earth. The unceasing cry of earth comes up in his ears.
But He is controlled by a purpose. It is a purpose of strong patient love. He has made a promise that man shall have fullest opportunity unchecked by the natural sweeping judgment, that invariable working out of sin and wrong. That throne keeps the order of nature working smoothly and faithfully for man's sake, holding in restraint the forces that would hinder and destroy. The rainbow is the signature to His promise. That rainbow is always before His face. That promise has never been forgotten. This explains the quietness of the One on the throne, looking down on the moral confusion of the race.
But this rainbow is not like the common rainbows that we know. It completely encircles the throne. Our rainbows are broken up. They are never seen in their completeness. Our lookout on things sees only a part; it never sees all. It is never complete. The view of things up there is complete. Everything is seen and is seen in its true relation to everything else. The throne is the one place of perfect perspective and poise.
And this rainbow is all of one colour, a clear, soft emerald-green. We know that green is the most restful of all colours. Some colours are irritating. Some persons of very sensitive, nervous temperament are even made sick by certain colours. And we are all affected more than we know in a hurtful way by certain colours. But green is the colour of rest. It soothes the eyes and nerves and even the spirit. The rainbow round about the throne looked like a quiet, quieting emerald-green. The One on the throne is at perfect rest regarding things down here. He knows all. His ears hear all, the cry of distress and despair, the defiance and arrogance and blasphemy. His eyes see His children down here, creative children all of them, prodigal children so many of them, and trusting children walking in the shadows. He sees all. And He feels all with His great feeling heart.
Yet He is at rest. Do you wonder how He can be? When Jesus saw the multitudes He was moved with compassion; He suffered in heart with them, for they were as shepherdless sheep, torn and distressed. And the heart beating in rhythm with His has as hard a time as He. If He lead you in service to some foreign mission land, you see and know and feel as no tourist party hurried through the outer fringes ever does or can.
And in Christian lands of the West, and the homeland, in slum as in polite circles, in commercial quarters as in the university world, the heart that is in touch with Jesus' heart sees and hears and feels and senses things as they are under the surface or sticking boldly out through the surface. And feels at times as though it can never again be at rest.
How can He, on the throne, be so quiet, and be at rest? And there is an answer to our burning question, a simple, real answer. He knows the end. He has a purpose and a plan. The present is only one stage in His great plan. This is man's opportunity, and possibly some one's else opportunity, too. It is to be followed by something else radically different down on this earth.
He is held steady during this time by a great purpose. It is a purpose of great, tender love. To His eye looking sleeplessly down there is rest even as of emerald-green. And so there will be rest for him who looks sleeplessly up to the throne of control, encircled in the emerald rainbow of perfect peace. And we can be of best service to Him by resting in our hearts, resting in Him, even while working in the thick of things as they are down here.