Sermon for Sunday 15 November 2015: "That's (NOT) All, Folks"
Sermon for Sunday 15 November 2015
25th Sunday after
Pentecost
Grace and peace to you from God our
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
About a week
ago I had an unusual visitor in the church office – a man who said he was a
priest, but from church whose name I did not recognize. Of course, I didn’t
know very much about many of my Christian sisters and brothers of other
traditions before I moved to Jerusalem, so I was happy to invite this priest
into the office for a chat.
It took all
of two minutes for me to realize this “priest” represented a group that
Lutherans probably wouldn’t recognize as an ecumenical partner. My visitor excitedly
told me that Jesus has already returned, and his purpose for our meeting was for
him to share the Good News. He pulled out a laptop computer and showed me a
video of strange lights hovering over the Dome of the Rock, and another of a
city floating on a cloud somewhere in China. He read me headlines about
impending wars with Russia and Syria (and a few other countries as well.) These,
he told me, were undeniable signs that Jesus has returned. Furthermore, they were
warnings that we must be ready because the Messiah (whose new name is apparently
“Ra-El”, short for “Raymond Elwood”) is coming soon to Jerusalem.
Now, my
internal reaction to this so-called news was to consider kindly showing this
“priest” to the door and to get on with my day. But as I listened, I became
curious. I was curious not so much about this new incarnation of Jesus, whom he
was now describing in great detail, but about what this evangelist expected my
response to be.
So I asked him:
“So Joe, now
that you’ve shared these signs and warnings with me and others, what should we
be doing about it?”
This
question seemed to take him a bit by surprise, and he actually raised his voice
a little to say, “Well, of course you
need to accept this news and then prepare yourself and your congregation,
because when he arrives here in Jerusalem, it will be with a sword! The end is very near!”
This priest
wasn’t the first strange person I’ve met in Jerusalem, and he certainly won’t
be the last. But you can imagine that this conversation about signs of the
end-times remained with me these last few days, especially when our lectionary
gave us this text from the thirteenth chapter of Mark:
“Beware that
no one leads you astray” said Jesus. “Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am
he!’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars,
do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For
nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be
earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning
of the birthpangs.”
Even before
this visitor arrived in my church office, this Gospel reading seemed to speak directly
to our situation today in Jerusalem. We know what it’s like to live with wars
and rumors of wars. We know what it looks like when nation rises up against
nation. This is a very uncertain time in this city and in the whole Middle
East, when many are predicting that this is the end:
the end of
the two-state solution;
the end of
the dream of a free Palestinian state;
the end of the
project of Israel as a Jewish state;
or the end
of Jerusalem as we know it.
With all of
these “end times scenarios” being predicted and talked about around us, it is
difficult not to be alarmed. It’s difficult not to worry when pilgrimage trips are
cancelled and when colleagues have their visas revoked. It’s difficult not to
be afraid when terrorists are blowing themselves up in Beirut, and are storming
concert halls, football games, and restaurants in Paris.
It is
difficult not to be depressed when world leaders simply throw up their hands
and say, “We’ve given up on a plan for peace.”
And yet as
Jesus sat with Peter, James, John and Andrew on the Mt. of Olives, overlooking
the Temple which he had just prophesied would be destroyed, he told them “Do
not be alarmed.”
Do not be
alarmed, even when people come with dire warnings and predictions.
Do not be
alarmed, even when you hear of terrorist attacks.
Do not be
alarmed, even when there are natural disasters.
Do not be
alarmed, even when your most beloved institutions and symbols are thrown down.
Jesus says
even when the pain of the world seems too much to bear, we must not be alarmed,
but remain steadfast in faith, trusting that something new, something good, and
something godly is in fact being birthed
into the world. The kingdom of God is
coming soon.
I think it
is exceedingly appropriate for Jesus to use birth imagery when telling the
disciples about the coming of the kingdom. As a woman who has given birth –
twice – I can say that labor was the hardest work I’ve ever done. It was also
the closest to death I’ve ever felt. I don’t mean that I or my babies were
close to death. What I mean is that during labor your whole being –mind, body, and
soul—are involved in saying goodbye to one reality and saying hello to a new
one.
In the same
way, the kingdom of God for which the world still waits will not come without
work, without suffering, without even cosmic trauma. After all, God’s kingdom
is not just a new and improved version of this one. It is completely opposite
of this broken and sinful world. It is an entirely new creature. As Jesus said,
“My kingdom is not of this world.” (John
18:36)
There is
pain and suffering involved in this birth process because the kingdom of God is
contrary to our human natures and desires. God is doing something in and among
us that pushes against our human hunger for power, for control, and for victory
through violence and revenge. As much as we long for the coming of the kingdom,
at the same time our human sinfulness resists it.
God is
birthing peace, but we worship weapons.
God is
birthing reconciliation, but we cling to retribution.
God is
birthing a diverse creation, but we insist on division.
God is
birthing love for our neighbors and even our enemies, but hatred motivates us
more than we want to admit.
These are
the “birthpangs” we are suffering at this moment. As the Apostle Paul said, “We
know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and
not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the
Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our
bodies.” The whole world is groaning in labor, from Paris to Beirut to
Jerusalem to the state of Missouri, as the kingdom of justice, of peace, of
love and mercy and reconciliation, is being born among us.
 |
| Sunrise over Jerusalem photo by Carrie Smith |
And we will
not give up hoping and praying and laboring
for the kingdom!
Our brother Martin Luther is often quoted as having said, “Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.” In other words, signs of the end are never an invitation to despair, but to hope of the new life to come.
Our brother Martin Luther is often quoted as having said, “Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.” In other words, signs of the end are never an invitation to despair, but to hope of the new life to come.
As images of
the attacks in Paris flooded my newsfeed yesterday, I was moved to also learn
of this story of resistance and hope in the face of what seemed to be the end, from
the late orchestra conductor Leonard Bernstein:
It was November
24, 1963, just two days after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, when
Bernstein conducted a memorial concert for the president. There was much
conversation beforehand about the appropriate music to be performed, with
everyone agreeing that Brahms’ “Requiem” would be the most fitting. But at the
last minute, Bernstein changed the program, and the orchestra played instead
Gustav Mahler’s “Resurrection Symphony.”
When asked
why, the conductor said,
“Last night
the New York Philharmonic and I performed Mahler’s Second Symphony-- The Resurrection-- in tribute to the
memory of our beloved late President. There were those who asked: Why the
Resurrection Symphony, with its visionary concept of hope and triumph over
worldly pain, instead of a Requiem, or the customary Funeral March from the Eroica? Why indeed? We played the Mahler
symphony not only in terms of resurrection for the soul of one we love, but
also for the resurrection of hope in all of us who mourn him.”
And then
Bernstein said,
“This will
be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more
devotedly than ever before.”
Dear sisters
and brothers, we have so many reasons to worry, to grieve, and to be afraid
today. But while any day may be the end of things as we know them, our faith
teaches us this is not the end of God’s good purposes for creation. Therefore,
even in the face of wars and rumors of wars, we will not be afraid. Even when
nation rises against nation, we will not give up hope.
Even when
the doctor says “there’s nothing more we can do”, we will not lose heart.
Instead, we
will make music. We will plant trees. We will learn new languages. We will
build relationships with our Muslim and Jewish neighbors. We will teach our
children to love. We will continue to work for peace, justice, and equality for
every human being.
Above all, we
will not be alarmed, for Jesus has taught us that death will never have the
last word. Thanks be to God, even when the temple of Jesus’ body was destroyed,
he was raised to new life on the third day. By the power of his crucifixion and
his resurrection, we await with hope and joyful expectation the birth of the kingdom
of peace, of justice, of mercy, of reconciliation, of life everlasting.
Hear the Good News: The kingdom is coming.
The baby is about to be born.
Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King! Amen!
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