A worship video of this sermon is available here.
In case you’re wondering if you’re having deja vu, yes, this is, indeed, our fourth apocalyptic text in as many Sundays. Three weeks ago there were quite a few similarities in the “punch line” of keep awake, when we heard the story from Matthew of the ten bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom who was delayed. Then in the next two weeks there were parables – one of the talents that offered a vision of the kindom of God where the conventional economic system is turned upside down, and another of the sheep and the goats where the needs of the “least of these” are centered. These stories may not feel like “apocalypse,” but they are depictions of how we are called to live when we know that there is going to be a great reckoning and setting things right, but it hasn’t happened to completion just yet.
And now here on the fourth Sunday in a row, the first Sunday of a new Christian year, the first Sunday of Advent, the season of waiting for this coming of Christ, we have another description of what some call “the end times.” For us Presbyterians, who tend to be known for our orderliness, this is an awful lot of talk about the chaos of the unknown and unpredictable. And yet, one of the commentaries I read a few weeks ago when thinking about the Matthew passage said “The expectation of Christ’s return is central to Christian living.”¹
I remember feeling a little convicted when I read that take on the reading. Convicted or confused, maybe a little of both. I have to admit (and I think I did admit in that sermon!) I don’t really consciously think about Christ’s return all that much. I really take those “about that day or that hour nobody knows” pieces to hearts. I don’t spend my time trying to piece together which modern day events might line up with descriptions in the Bible – which wars or rumors of wars, which astronomical events, which earthquakes or hurricanes or wildfires – because, frankly, I don’t think that’s what Jesus was asking us to do when he spoke in this way. For several millennia people have looked at these big dramatic events and tried to match them up with what Jesus was saying.
That’s kind of what his disciples were even doing in Mark that prompts this passage we heard today. In the early verses of the chapter 13 the disciples Peter, James, John, and Andrew are talking with Jesus privately about when the temple will be destroyed (something Mark’s author and audience have actually already experienced by they time they are writing and hearing this gospel) and Jesus’ return will be imminent. “When will this be?” Jesus’ disciples ask. “What will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?”
We do love a sign, don’t we? Whether it’s a sign that the end is near or sign that God is listening to even our own singular prayer whispered timidly in the dark of night, many of us, if not most of us at some time or another, crave a sign that God is near, God is listening, God really can and will do something about our lives, our prayers, or the world. And while we’re asking for signs, why not make it a big one? One we can be sure about. One that will leave no doubt at all in our minds.
We like the idea of huge cosmic or dramatic events that tell us exactly what God is up to. They make it easy to assign authorship or responsibility to when and where God is at work. They make it easier for us to feel certain that God has shown up.
This isn’t new. It’s the prayer we heard from Isaiah this morning, isn’t it? “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence” Come down here, O God. And do it so big that our adversaries and enemies know that something real is happening. Do it so big we won’t have to wonder if it’s really you! The prophet pleas on behalf of the people who are in exile in Babylon, who have been there for a generation or two and are feeling desperate about getting back home to Israel. They have been told to be patient and to settle into life in a foreign land. They’ve married their children, built homes, and tended the land. But now they long for the kind of awesome deeds they remember hearing about from their ancestors, when the mountains quaked at the presence of God, when everyone knew the glory and power of their God and couldn’t doubt God’s presence or favor.
But now, God’s people in exile crave a huge sign of God’s presence. They believe, that because they haven’t see any dramatic evidence of God’s activity, that they have sinned so badly that God has walked away from them. A lack of major intervention felt to them like abandonment. The people of Israel beg for a big dramatic in-breaking of God, so that they will know God is no longer angry, so they will know they are being held in the palm of God’s hand.
Does that feel familiar at all? In my experience it’s sometimes hard for us to identify places and times that God has been active and at work in our lives because we’re only look for earth-shaking moments. We’ve somehow bought into a story that God not just *can* act in big, dramatic ways, but God *only* acts in big, dramatic ways. So much so that when the big, dramatic ways are absent, we have a tendency to think God is absent, too.
Likewise, when we’re encouraged to think about and show gratitude for the ways God has touched our lives, if we don’t have an inexplicable miracle or a life-altering moment – if we can’t remember the heavens being torn open or divinity descending on clouds – we think we’re missing out on something and maybe God hasn’t really been here all along.
Jesus’ disciples are on the anticipatory end of this equation. They are actually expecting a major event, the destruction of the temple that Jesus was just telling them about, and they want to know exactly when it will be coming so they are ready, so they don’t miss witnessing the sign, so they can get ready for what it may mean. They want to know what big signs to look for so they’ll know for sure when Jesus will be present and at work in the world.
Jesus seems to get the desire for big, dramatic moments. He tells them that when the Son of Man returns to earth there will be cosmic consequences – the sun will go dark, the moon will have no light to reflect, stars will fall from heaven, and the powers and forces of the universe will be shaken. He tells them there will be clouds and angels and everything they need to know a big thing is happening. I love how Jesus meets them (and meets us) right where their (and our) limited faith and understanding tend to hover.
But he also tells them, that only waiting for the big things to confirm our faith in God – the earthquakes and shooting stars, the dramatic inexplicable operating room miracles – it probably isn’t the way to sustain faith, sustain a living, loving relationship with the divine. “About that day or hour no one knows.” There are going to be more times without the drama of “the Son of Man coming in clouds” than there are with it, so instead of sitting on the sidelines waiting for them, instead of falling asleep or getting distracted by the shiny things of the world, instead of trying to pick apart the news events of the day or read tea leaves to see if this is it, “Keep alert,” he says.
From the very beginning of the Jesus movement people have tried to nail down with certainty a timeline for Jesus’ return, for the completion of the fulfillment of his promises, and, also from the very beginning, he resisted giving such a specific timeline. So trying to figure it out, trying to get it scheduled on our own personal or some cosmic calendar just doesn’t seem all that helpful. Instead, we are invited into a way of living that is ready to see God’s presence, God’s grace, God’s provision at any moment, all around us.
With the rest of the servants of Christ who are here we are called to look for where the kindom is breaking in in less dramatic ways and be a part of that work. We can look for where the hungry are being fed and help with the feeding. We can look for where the thirsty are being given something to drink, and help pour the living water. We can look for where there are opportunities to change the systems of our society that will allow those stuck in cycles of poverty to break free and be a part of changing them! And if we don’t see any of these things already happening, we can work together to start them right where we are. This is how “the expectation of Christ’s return is central to Christian living.” It isn’t about trying to read world events and match them up with bible depictions.
The goal of waiting for Jesus’ return is not to anticipate the lucky draw of a “get out of jail free card.” Instead it is the opportunity to do the daily work of being faithful. Watching for the presence of God in the small moments, not just the big ones. In fact, it is the invitation to be the presence of God, the reflection of Jesus, for one another – God’s servants put together in community, each with our own job to do in the kin(g)dom.
For Some Reason 