“A Strange Welcome to Advent”

First Sunday of Advent

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Jeremiah 33: 14-16

Psalm 25: 1-10

1 Thessalonians 3: 9-13

There will be signs in the sun, the moon and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.  People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.  Then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.

And with that, welcome to Advent!

Today’s Gospel text seems a strange way to begin what is usually viewed as a time of expectation, a time of hope, a time of joyful preparation, a time of celebration. 

Its images of strange signs in the sun, moon and stars; distress on land and sea; people fainting in fear and foreboding seem so ominous, so catastrophic, so distinctly odd in the context of our impending Christmas celebrations.

So why are we invited to read these texts at the beginning of Advent?  And what meaning might they have for us to ponder as we make our way, once again, through the season of Advent towards Christmas Day?

Today’s passage from Gospel of Luke is one of a number of seemingly bizarre apocalyptic visions that are scattered throughout the Gospels, and that are found in a number of different places in the Bible.  Its visions of terrible portents and times of great foreboding seem to predict a time of great calamity as the end of the world approaches. 

There are many different ways that such passages are read and interpreted.  Some seek, in these passages, to find cryptic clues which will give insights about the time and date when the end of the world will appear.  In everything from Hollywood blockbusters, to the rantings of late night television evangelists, to entire theological frameworks which seek to divide time into certain periods or dispensations, to the theologically horrid forms of popular Christian spirituality that is presented in books and movies such as the “Left Behind” series, such visions of the end of the world continue to fuel the imaginations of many in our modern culture, both within and outside of the church.  In so many of these speculative movies and beliefs, some seek to find hidden insights about what we should all do to prepare ourselves for that calamitous eventuality.  Still others think that the primary purpose of such texts is to give ‘true believers’ the opportunity to get out before things get really difficult, even if it means leaving friends and family members behind.

In an attempt to avoid these extreme and sensationalistic doomsday speculations, many of us tend to dismiss these passages as an odd, an incomprehensible and therefore an often overlooked dimension of biblical literature.  That which we cannot understand, we just avoid.

But neither of these paths is helpful or necessary.  Rather, it is both possible, and important for us to read, to explore and to ponder these apocalyptic texts if we truly want to embrace a greater degree of biblical literacy and a more complete Christian spirituality.

A starting point to our understanding of these passages is to realize that Christians have read these passages for almost two thousand years, and in every generation, they have carried a certain relevancy. That is, in every generation and every age, people have been able to read these passages against the backdrop of, and as a commentary upon, the events of their times.  There has never been a time in Christian history when people have read these passages and said, “well, we need not worry – nothing like that is happening to us right now.” Whether the portents in the sky were unexplained phenomena such as eclipses; or the distress among nations were caused by wars and rumours of wars; or changes in agricultural production signaled that the Jesus’ words about changes on the leaves on a fig tree were seeking to convey a message from God, people of sincere faith have interpreted these passages in relation to the events of their times.

And so it is with us.  After all, in our own times, it is not difficult to read passages about “signs in the sun, the moon and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves” as a reference to the environmental crisis and the consequences of climate change.  When New Orleans was flooded, or when the tsunami hit, there indeed was great distress among nations caused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.

Equally, in a world so torn apart by war and the threat of war, it is not difficult to see modern examples of people fainting “from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken”.  Later in the same passage, Christ’s commendation that his followers should not allow themselves to be “weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life” continues to speak a relevant and powerful word to the habits, challenges and dynamics of modern life. 

Clearly, in every age, these passages speak to a sense of angst about the meaning that should be attributed to some disastrous and troubling situations in human life.  The images that these texts place before us are misunderstood if they are viewed simply as cryptic riddles which, when solved, can allow us to foresee some future event; rather, these images invite us to ponder the events of every moment of human history within the larger context of God’s actions and intentions.  When the end of time comes, we may come to a deeper understanding of these words – but we do not have to wait or try to predict when that time will be for us to derive benefit from these texts.

So where, then, in these passages, might we find a message or a meaning that can help us at every moment in time, and even now?

The answer to this question drives us back into the text, into the purpose of such passages, and into a theme which resides at the very heart of our Advent and Christmas celebrations.

And that answer is to be found in the words that are found in verse 28 – “now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” 

In other words, when the world seems to be crashing down upon you, when everyone around you is paralyzed with fear and paranoia, when all hell seems to be breaking loose, remember that God is not finished yet.   Do not get caught up in doomsday predictions nor in the fear and paranoia that are so easily embraced.  Stand up.  Raise your head. God’s redeeming work in you, and in this world, is still unfolding.  Even in the most difficult moments, live in hope. 

This is an invitation that we all do well to ponder, and not only in relation to the end of the world.  Rather, in every one of our lives, there are those moments when life seems to be directing us towards uncertain or challenging times.  We get bad news from a doctor, and suddenly the course of our life is radically altered.  Or a marriage or a relationship falls apart, and the devastation lures us into believing that we shall never recover.  Or a loved one is overcome by a terrible disease and there is nothing that we can do to help.  Or the recession hits our company, and our employment is suddenly uncertain.  In such times – in every one of our lives -- anxiety, fear, foreboding and despair exercise a strong claim upon us. 

But it is in those times that we do well to hear and to remember the theme that is woven through today’s passage – stand up.  Raise your head.  God’s redeeming work in you, and in this world, is still unfolding.  Even in the most difficult moments, live in hope. 

Such an attitude does not lead us to some Pollyanna – ish perspective on life, in which everything is always rosy, the glass is always half full, there is a silver lining in every grey cloud, and things are always just great.

Far from it.  True Christian spirituality invites us to confront reality in all of its beauty and in all of its brokenness.  After all, we follow a man who knew the joy of eating and drinking with good friends; but who also knew what it meant to have the world conspire against him; a man for whom suffering was very real; a man who was ultimately nailed to a cross.

As we contemplate the cross, there is a great temptation to hang our heads down low and shuffle away, beset by fear and anger about how terrible the world can be.  But this is not the calling of this passage, nor is it the invitation of the Gospel.  Rather, as we contemplate the cross – and as we contemplate the reality of such suffering whenever and wherever the world seems to be crashing down and all hell seems to be breaking loose -- we are invited to stand up, to raise our heads, and to remember that, in that moment of crucified shame, God’s redeeming work in Christ, and in this world, was still unfolding.  

And, three days later, the empty tomb proved the validity of those hopes.

Our calling, therefore, is not to predict the end of time, nor to live in some level of gloomy religious anxiety about the future; our calling is to stand up when the world is seeking to crush us, to live in hope when despair seems to reign supreme, to stay awake in the midst of ignorance and indifference, and to stay alert to the reality of God’s redeeming love, at every moment.

And it is these invitations to hope, to expectation, to mindfulness and awareness that are, truly, the great themes of the Advent season.  The journey of Advent invites us to cultivate the ability to ground our faith, our hope and our love in the ongoing work of this mysterious God who works in the most unlikely moments and in the most mysterious ways – including in the womb of a young mother making her way towards Bethlehem.

So stand up.  Raise your heads.  God’s redemption is drawing near.

Welcome to Advent.