Sunday, November 30, 2008

Light in the Darkness (Mark 13:24-37)

How exciting it is to finally arrive in this season of Advent! I say “finally” because for quite some time now I have been looking forward to seeing how this season is celebrated here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church. Now, I am about to find out!

Advent is the traditional start of the church year, the liturgical calendar. It is the season when “hope is rekindled;” when “healing comes to the broken;” and when “peace and joy replace the weariness and frustration of unfulfilled dreams.”
Originally, the season of Advent was a time of somber reflection, much like the season of Lent. It was a time to focus our attention on the way of Christ, what has led us astray from Christ’s way, and how we could allow God to help us get back on the right track.

The real celebration—the celebration of Christmas—wouldn’t begin until December 25; it would then last for twelve days until Epiphany, which is January 6. You see? There really are twelve days of Christmas.

However, somber reflection doesn’t move goods in the shopping malls. It also doesn’t do much for drawing new people into the church. These days, the celebration of Advent and Christmas tend to overlap. The deep, thoughtful colors of Advent—the dark violet and the deep blue—are joined by the bright red and friendly green of Christmas—neither of which, technically speaking, are the liturgical colors for Christmas; that would be white.

Throw all this together, and yes, the colors do clash. In more ways than one, I might add. And then there are the Advent scriptures, of which today’s is quite typical. Heaven and earth, passing away? Warnings to be alert? On the first Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of hope?

See what I mean about the colors clashing?

Many of the scriptures in Advent—and especially those that appear on the first Sunday of Advent—have to do with what is commonly called the Second Coming of Christ, although that particular phrase never appears in scripture. They are often interpreted to refer to the end of the earth, although—like the book of Revelation—they are, more often than not, interpreted wrongly.

Many people throughout history have searched scripture for clues regarding Christ’s second coming, and quite a few were certain that they had those clues figured out.
In the early 1800s, a group called the Harmony Society formed, centered on the religious teachings of George Rapp. They had settlements in Indiana and Pennsylvania, and believed Rapp’s prediction that the second coming would take place on September 15, 1829. It didn’t.

In 1837, there was a severe downturn in the economy: the Panic of 1837, it was called. With hopes shattered, people longed for a simple solution to all earthly problems, and what could be simpler than the arrival of judgment day?

Along came William Miller, a farmer from Low Hampton, New York, who predicted that Christ would return in 1843. Miller gained a large following, and excitement grew even more when a comet appeared in the sky.

However, the world did not end that year.

Then Miller said he had made an error in his calculations, an error of seven months. He set a new date, saying: “I see a glory in the seventh month which I never saw before. Thank the Lord, O my soul! I am almost home. Glory! Glory! Glory!” When that date came and went, it became known as the Great Disappointment.

Many others have set dates: Charles Russell predicted that Christ’s invisible presence would come in 1874, and that his visible return would take place in 1914. Rudolf Steiner predicted a date in the 1930s. Herbert W. Armstrong predicted 1975. Bill Maupin, 1981. Harold Camping, 1994. And Jerry Falwell said that Christ’s return would happen sometime between 1999 and 2009.

Time’s running out, Jerry.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone in which your conversation partner starts saying things that sound a little strange to you, until finally you interrupt the flow of the conversation to ask, “What are you talking about?” And then your conversation partner tilts his head to one side, looks at you, and says, “What are you talking about?” And then you both realize that you’ve been talking about different things, and no wonder nothing was making any sense; and then you have to spend the next few minutes clearing everything up?

It’s like the time when Jesus is talking to his disciples, and he says to them, “Beware the yeast of the Pharisees.” The disciples hear that, and immediately, they think of food. “Oh, he said that because we don’t have any bread”… “What? We don’t have any bread?”… “Well, who’s responsibility was it to bring the bread?”… “Don’t look at me, I brought the bread last time.”… “So, who’s going to go get us some bread?”… “All right, I’ll go, as long as I get to pick it out.” … “Ooh, can we have some pumpernickel? My mom used to make this great pumpernickel, and—“

“HEY!” It’s Jesus. “Why are you talking about bread?”

“Well, Jesus, because you, um,… Didn’t you just say that, uh,…. What were you talking about, Jesus?”

I believe that a similar misunderstanding has taken place—and continues to take place—concerning scriptural passages that refer to Jesus’ second coming and the end of one world, and the beginning of a new world. History has clearly shown that many have been wrong when it comes to interpreting such passages. I believe their error wasn’t just a matter of calculating the wrong date. I believe they’ve missed the point entirely, and have failed to understand just what it was that Jesus was talking about.

Jesus says that heaven and earth will pass away. Many have interpreted this to mean that this planet earth will be no more, that it will be destroyed by a comet or a nuclear war or some other form of annihilation. But perhaps that’s not what Jesus meant. Perhaps, by “heaven and earth,” Jesus meant the world as we know it. Perhaps he meant the worldview in which we are immersed.

Jesus talked often about a new world, a new kingdom—the kingdom of God. Many followers, then and now, thought that he meant a literal kingdom in which Jesus would rule with power and might, much like the ancient kings did. The problem is that ruling with power and might just doesn’t seem to be the way of the one who allowed himself to die on the cross.

Some Pharisees once asked Jesus when the kingdom was coming. His answer shows that his idea of the kingdom wasn’t what they thought it was. He said: “the kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed. For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you. It is within you.”

Jesus said that, to be a part of this kingdom, one must be born anew—born of the Spirit. Again, many followers, then and now, misunderstood, starting with Nicodemus, who asked: “What? How can I be born anew? Can I re-enter my mother’s womb, and come out again?”

No, Nicodemus. You must break free of the worldview you currently have. Learn to see the world in a whole new way—the way of Jesus. That is how you are born anew. That is how you become a part of the kingdom, and how the kingdom becomes a part of you.

This is what I believe about the kingdom of God, the kingdom that Jesus proclaimed is “at hand.”

And what about the second coming? Well, I’m certainly not about to start predicting dates—especially since I have my doubts about it happening the way so many think it’s going to happen. I don’t think the world has come close to understanding the first coming of Jesus, let along the second.

Perhaps that’s why people are so obsessed with Jesus’ second coming—because they just don’t get the first one. Or maybe, as Fred Craddock has suggested, they look forward to the second coming because, deep down, they’re really disappointed in the first one. They wanted a Jesus who rides his white horse, vanquishing all foes, wielding his mighty sword in battle—not someone who has to rely on the hospitality of others, and who speaks about the meek inheriting the earth.

In talking about the passing away of this world into the next, Jesus says some strange things about the sun being darkened, and the moon refusing to shine. It sounds almost like two worlds clashing—clashing even more than the colors of Advent and Christmas. And that, I believe, is what’s actually happening: two worlds are clashing. But they aren’t two worlds in a cosmic sense. They are two different worldviews, at odds with one another: the prevailing worldview, and the worldview of Jesus.

What are we to do? Well, as followers of the way of Christ, as those who seek to live in the new world, the new kingdom, that is at hand, I suppose our task is to watch and to be ready: to watch for opportunities to re-align ourselves with the way of Jesus; to be ready to help make God’s kingdom come on earth, as it is in heaven. To keep awake, with our eyes open to every opportunity that comes our way to shine some light in the darkness, to let the sun and moon shine again, to live out the gospel of Jesus, the good news that brings healing and wholeness to a broken world, to recognize ourselves and all people as beloved children of God.

Those who are obsessed by the second coming seem to believe in a gospel of fear. Fear, along with anger and hate, leads to the dark side of religion, and breeds such evils as racism and homophobia and a love that is centered exclusively on oneself.
But this version of Christianity clashes with the angels’ pronouncement at Jesus’ first coming. Upon announcing Jesus’ birth, what did they say? “Fear not.”

Ours is not a gospel of fear. It is a gospel of hope. It is a gospel of peace. It is a gospel of joy. And it is a gospel of love.
Thanks be to God.

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