The Unexpected Arrival

Matthew 24:36-44 

December 1, 2013

First Sunday of Advent

            There is a story, perhaps more legend than story, about Beethoven at the end of his life.  Supposedly the great composer looked toward the heavens and said, “I need more time.  I need more time!” 

            If the story is true, perhaps Beethoven wanted more time to finish his last great symphony.  Or maybe he had more music inside him that he had yet to compose, yet to express.  Whatever the reason, Beethoven wanted more time on this earth to accomplish more than he’d already accomplished. 

            Isn’t Beethoven’s desire for more time something all of us might ask for?  If only we knew how much time we actually have, we might not squander the time we’ve been given now.  In response to this longing for more time, Scientists – and I’ll be honest, I don’t know who these scientists are, or if they’re really even scientists – created what is called a death clock. 

            With this clock, you can input your age and your gender, factors that can affect your health such as your BMI, exposure to smoke, where you live, etc.  Using standard mortality tables, it calculates the approximate number of hours, minutes and seconds you have left to live.

            That’s quite a clock, huh? 

            When I read about this clock, I sat and thought for a while about whether or not I’d want to try it.  At first it sounded like a good idea.  I’d have a timeline to work with.  Say it told me I’d live till I was 82.  Okay, that means that I have thirty plus years left to work with.  I should be able to accomplish a whole lot of things in that timeframe.  That would be great information to have, wouldn’t it?  Or would it? 

            Instead of motivating me to get more and more done, to fulfill more and more of my bucket list, I wonder if it would have the opposite effect.  What if the number 82 becomes like an albatross around my neck?  What if all I can do is mark off the days until my 82^nd birthday?  Knowing me, I’ll more likely worry myself to a much earlier death than I would if I didn’t know at all.  When it comes right down to it, I don’t think I want to know exactly when I’m going to die.  I’m not sure that would be a liberating number to learn. 

            Not knowing is critical to our understanding of our passage from Matthew’s gospel.  In the first verse we read, verse 36, Jesus tells the disciples that no one knows about the day or the hour.  The angels of heaven do not know.  The Son does not know.  Only the Father knows.  Jesus is referring to the end times, the last days.  As is true every Advent, the gospel lesson on the first Sunday of this season focuses on an apocalyptic or eschatological theme.  Jesus is speaking of when the end of this age will come.  But he does not know an exact date, day or time.  He has no divine calendar, and unlike the death clock, Jesus does not have a countdown running in his head.  He does not know.  Only the Father knows, and because of that, the rest of us are called to be watchful, awake, and to prepare for an unexpected arrival. 

            Jesus calls on the disciples to remember their history.  Remember Noah.  In those days before the flood, the people were eating and drinking.  They were marrying and giving in marriage.  They were doing all these things until Noah entered the ark.  Then the flood came and swept them all away.  That’s what’s going to happen with the coming of the Son of Man.

            Then Jesus goes on to tell them that when the Son of Man comes it will be like two men working in the field.  One will be taken.  One will be left behind.  Again, the coming of that day will be like two women working at the mill, grinding meal together.  One will be taken.  One will be left behind. 

            So what do you do to be prepared for this coming?  You stay watchful.  You stay awake.  If the owner of the house knows the exact time that the thief will come, the owner is going to stay awake, isn’t he?  He’s not going to fall asleep and let his home be robbed and his family be put in danger.  So we have to be watchful.  We have to wake from sleep.  We have to stay awake.

            This passage in Matthew’s gospel is the left behind passage.  It’s referring to what we understand to be the rapture.  When the second coming of Christ happens, those who are God’s elect will be raptured to heaven.  Those who aren’t will be left behind.  That will be the judgment.  Certainly that is what Matthew’s passage seems to be referring to.

            But I think we have to dig deeper than this initial interpretation.  To do that, we have to understand a little more about Matthew and the context that he was writing in.  It’s believed by scholars that Matthew was living and writing his gospel in the city of Antioch.  Matthew wrote in approximately 80 or 85 c.e.  At that time the Jewish people were well into the diaspora; they were scattered far and wide around the Hellenistic world.  The rallying cry for Jews living at this time would have been “Next year in Jerusalem.”  Going to Jerusalem was stating that one day all Jews would be gathered back together in their spiritual and ethnic home.  Because of this scattering of the people, the temple in Jerusalem would have been as important to them as Mecca is to Islam today. It was the seat of all their belief and culture.   When the temple was destroyed in about 70 c.e., it was a spiritual and existential crisis for the Jewish people. 

            Because of the destruction of the temple, Judaism moved from a temple orientation to a synagogue orientation. It’s believed that in the synagogue in Antioch, the people were on a collision course.  Some people believed that the messiah was still to come.  But others believed that the messiah had been fulfilled in a young man named Jeshua, Jesus, from Nazareth.  Now those Jesus believers were either kicked out of the synagogue in Antioch or they walked out.  But either way, Matthew is writing this gospel in the language of one who is addressing a church fight.  Matthew wants to the people to remember their past, their heritage, even as they incorporate that heritage into this new thing that their faith has become – their faith in Jesus as the Son of God.

            So Matthew is intense.  If you were to read the gospel of Matthew side by side with any of the other ones, Matthew often comes across as the mean one.  He was the finger shaker of all the gospel writers.  He does not believe that the culture around the believers is benign or harmless.  To be a Christian in the midst of this culture of others is to follow a narrow and dangerous path.  Matthew is deeply concerned about the potential peril of the people he is addressing in his gospel.  Preacher and scholar Tom Long compares Matthew to a parent sending his or her teenage driver out in a car, alone, for the first time.  As I come closer to being a parent of a teenage driver, I know that I’m going to warn said teenager about every possible danger I can think of.  I’m not going to let that teenage driver out on the road without these kinds of warnings because I want my driver to be careful and cautious.  I know the kind of danger she's going into, and I want her to do everything she can to be safe.

            So we come to this passage.  As I said, Matthew is intense.  His writing reflects that intensity.  He wants his readers to understand how important it is for them to be aware of God’s impending kingdom in each and every moment.  Matthew, like Jesus, wants those who will listen to wake from sleep.  Stay awake! Be prepared for an unexpected arrival.   

            If we were to read this passage in the Greek, we might also understand a little more about the point that Jesus is making to his disciples.  We hear, “For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.  For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage.”  To my ears it’s always sounded like they were in the midst of a special celebration.  I hear Jesus’ words about eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage in a lilting, happy cadence.  But the tone of the Greek is monotone.  Eating and drinking, marrying and giving marriage.  As if Jesus is also saying, yada, yada, yada.  What does "yada, yada, yada" mean?  It means whatever.  It is rote, it’s routine.  I get up.  I eat breakfast.  I go to work, yada, yada, yada.    

            So the people in Noah’s time were just going about their everyday lives.  They were eating.  They were drinking.  They were marrying.  There was nothing new.  There was nothing to anticipate.  Technically, they were awake.  But they were really asleep; asleep to the movement of God in their world, asleep to coming judgment in their world.  Once again, Tom Long says that our everyday living too often numbs our expectation of Advent.  It’s the first Sunday of Advent, sure, but really it’s almost Christmas.  We have presents to buy.  Decorating to do.  Parties to attend.  Food to eat.  Yada, yada, yada. 

            But this passage from Matthew breaks into our everyday routines.  It shocks us out of thinking that Advent is only a season of sweetness and light.  Advent is our time to prepare, yes, but it’s not just about the Christ child being born in a stable, it’s about the coming of the Lord.  It’s about the extraordinary breaking into the ordinary.  It’s about God’s love and God’s grace breaking into our lives of eating, drinking, marrying and giving in marriage. 

            Some of you may take this passage from Matthew literally.  Maybe when the Son of Man comes, there will be a rapture, where some are taken and some are left behind.  But I think it goes deeper than we can possibly understand.  Matthew and the other gospel writers were trying to put into words what cannot possibly be said within the limits of our language.  They were trying to describe events that were beyond our wildest imaginings. 

            Jesus tells the disciples that when the Son of Man comes nothing will ever be the same.  So we have to wake from our sleep.  We have to be watchful.  We must expect the unexpected. 

            It would be easy to interpret this passage as a call to anxiety about this tremendous future event.  When will the Son of Man come?  When will the dramatic end times finally occur?  But I don’t think Jesus is calling us to be anxious.  He’s trying to shake us up out of our apathy.  Even the most faithful of us can get overwhelmed when we try to imagine the future.  What will the world be like?  Not just for me, but for my kids?  What opportunities will they have?  What if the Son of Man comes and I’m not ready?  When I go on like this for too long, I just have to shut myself off from thinking about it at all.  And when that happens, I become apathetic. 

            So we’re not being called to anxiety, and we’re being shaken out of our apathy.  What’s left?  Between anxiety and apathy, there’s hope.  Jesus tells the disciples about the end times, not so they’ll worry and fret, but so they’ll get busy paying attention to this moment, now.  Wake up to what is happening now.  Go on about your everyday lives, doing your everyday work, but wake from the sleep you spend your days in.  Be present in each moment.  See God’s glory in each moment.  Be aware that even in the most mundane of tasks, God is there with you.  And hope in the future, because the future is God’s.  This is why we hope.  The past, the present and the future belong to God.  And God shows us again and again and again that he is faithful and true.  Hope in the future because the future belongs to God.  And we belong to God.  God is with us.  Hope is ours.  Wake.  Watch. Expect the Unexpected.  Let all God's children say, "Alleluia!  Amen."

An Unlikely Throne

Luke 23:33-43

November 24, 2013

Christ the King Sunday

            Along with everything happening in the world this past week, the news item that I have seen over and over is the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.  Friday was the 50^th anniversary of that terrible day, but every day leading up to the anniversary saw at least one news report about it; how it changed the country, politics, our future as a nation.  There have been specials on JFK’s early life, his heroic actions in World War II, his rise to the presidency and how his presidency actually played out from election to assassination.  It has been chilling to be reminded again of how close we came to actual nuclear war during the Cuban Missile Crisis.  I have wondered how the Civil Rights Movement would have played out had he not been killed.  And even though I wasn’t around yet, it’s almost impossible not to feel the pain and terrible loss that followed his death. 

            One of my kids, watching one of the many news reports about Kennedy with me, commented, “There were like royalty, weren’t they?” 

            Our nation was built on the premise that royalty was not for us.  We declared our independence from the oppression and tyranny of King George’s unjust rule.  We built our democracy on the idea that power should never rest in one person’s hands alone.  Checks and balance.  Three different branches of the government.  The ability to have our say in how we’re governed.  But in spite of that, royalty holds a fascination for us.  I may not have been around yet for Kennedy’s presidency, but I’ve grown up hearing his time in the White House described as Camelot.  Camelot, that mythical place of Arthurian legend, where peace and beauty and grace resided – at least for a short time. 

            They were like royalty weren’t they? 

            If Kennedy’s presidency was compared to Camelot, it’s not because there was unparalleled peace and justice during his time.  That’s not a slight against Kennedy, it’s just reality.  The reference to Camelot is a reference to the hope and the optimism that came with his presidency.  But don’t we do that with every elected official?  Isn’t that why we vote for the people we vote for, no matter who these people are, because we want to believe that the leader, president, governor, senator, etc. will make things right.  Whatever may be wrong at the time, we want our leaders to make things right.  For many of us, we’ve become cynical as to anyone’s ability to do that.  But deep down, I think that’s what we hope for.  We invest our hopes and our desires for our state or our country in the persons in office.  We want them to make it right.

            I don’t think that’s much different from what the people of Israel did with Jesus.  They wanted him to make things right.  They wanted him to break the yoke of Roman tyranny.  If he was, in fact, the Son of God, the Messiah, then surely he would rule as a great king; greater even than King David.  As the Messiah, he would be a ruler.  He would be a warrior.  He would save them.  He did, just not in the way he expected.  The inscription, “This is the King of the Jews,” may have been meant as a mockery, but I am certain that many saw him as that.  King. 

            I didn’t realize it, but there is debate among theologians as to whether this day should be referred to as “Christ the King” or the “Reign of Christ.”  For many the problem with calling it Christ the King is that the word “king” carries the same kinds of connotations for us as it did for the people of Israel.  Maybe, unintentionally, it perpetuates the image of Jesus ruling as King in the way we understand kingship.  A king should have power and authority and the ability to destroy enemies before the enemies do the destroying.    

            However calling this day the reign of Christ designates what Jesus did, what Jesus does, instead of giving him a label.  With his life and his death and his resurrection, Jesus ushered in the kingdom of God.  The kingdom he reigns over.

In light of this dissention, it may be helpful to know a little bit more about the history of this Sunday.  Christ the King wasn’t actually a day on the church calendar until 1925.  In that year Pope Pius IX declared the last Sunday before Advent a feast day, the day when we recognize Christ as King.  What were the circumstances surrounding Pope Pius’s decision?  Well, World War I was over.  I don’t need to tell the history buffs out there that World War I was also known as “The Great War,” because it was supposed to be the war to end all wars.  But as early as 1925 the stage had been irrevocably set for another war.  A global depression loomed.  Across Europe, leaders were rising who were rallying people around themes of fear, hatred and suspicion.  Anyone who didn’t look, act or think like them were to be distrusted.  We know the monstrous outcome of that distrust.  It wouldn’t be long before names like Hitler, Mussolini and Franco were known throughout Europe and throughout the world. 

Pope Pius realized that people were being drawn away from the gospel of Christ.  They were following a different kind of leader, a different kind of king.  So what better way to end the church year, than by proclaiming to all the world that no matter what earthly leaders may rise and fall, it is Christ who is our one true King.  So now, the Sunday before Advent is known as Christ the King.

It seems to me that the disagreement over whether this day should be known as Christ the King or as the Reign of Christ is misleading.  It is both.  Pope Pius made this day a feast day as a way to remind Christians that Jesus was the King, but not in the manner of the kings and rulers and leaders of this world, even the best of them. 

Jesus as King has authority, true, but it is the authority of God who created life out of chaos; who forgives sins and offers new life.  Jesus as King has power, but it is the power of the suffering servant.  He has the power of the One who shepherds, who protects, who loves, who willingly embraces death so that we may embrace life. 

Jesus the Christ, the King reigns.  Yet his judgments are pronounced from the most unlikely of thrones, the cross.  Christ is King and the kingdom that his reign ushers in is one where death does not have the last say.  Death does not have the last stay.  Christ the King reigns over a kingdom whose foundation is grace and mercy and love.  Christ our King reigns over a kingdom that offers us a second chance, and a third and a fourth and so on. 

On this day when we lift up Christ our King and the Reign of Christ, maybe what we also need to lift up are those parts and pieces of our lives that are broken so that they may be made whole.  We lift up our mistakes not only for forgiveness but that we can try again and try anew.  We lift up our hurts and our fears, our anxieties and our needs, trusting that the grace of Christ’s reign abounds.  Most of all on this day of kingship and kingdom, we open ourselves, our hearts, our minds, our hands, ourselves to God’s love.  Jesus was the incarnation of that love.  The Holy Spirit makes manifest that love as it continues to breathe new life into what was once thought dead. 

Earlier this week, I read and subsequently posted a most powerful quote from Ray Bradbury.  He said, “Looking back over a lifetime, you see that love was the answer to everything.”  Christ is King of that answer and it is the ongoing power of his reign.  Christ the King reigns over the kingdom built on love.  Let all God’s children say, “Alleluia!  Amen.”                                                                                                                             

Before I Die

Luke 21:5-19

November 17, 2013

            “Before I die, I want to…”  Last week, thanks to preacher, teacher and blogger David Lose, I discovered a TED talk by Candy Chang.  Chang is an artist, an urban planner and a unique and creative thinker living in New Orleans.  In her TED talk, she describes turning public spaces, especially dilapidated or neglected or forgotten ones, into works of art. 

            A life-changing event in her life prompted her to create art in a public space near her home.  The public art or performance art or however you want to term it was the subject of her talk.  A few years ago Chang lost a dear friend suddenly and without warning.  Chang described this woman as being a mother to her, and her death affected her deeply.  In the wake of this unexpected death, Chang began to think more intently about both death and life.   And out of that reflection and her grief she created art, and laid the groundwork for anyone and everyone to contribute to it.  She, along with the help of friends, turned the side of an abandoned, dilapidated house into an enormous chalkboard.  At the top she stenciled in large letters, like a title, “Before I die…”  Then in rows across the entire length of wall the words “Before I die I want to” followed by a blank line were also stenciled.  Anyone walking by could pick up a piece of chalk and fill in a blank.  Before I die I want to…   Some of the responses given were funny, some were poignant, and some were inspiring.  Chang said that within 24 hours the wall was full and growing.  People were writing their messages in every possible space provided by this huge public chalkboard. 

            Chang’s idea has gone viral.  People began to contact her about creating their own Before I Die walls.  So she and some of her colleagues created at toolkit for making this wall, and walls have gone up in countries around the world.  This past week Front Porch, the campus ministry group, watched this video at our weekly gathering.  Never underestimate the power of motivated students.  We may see this kind of wall, maybe more than one, not only on the campus of Oklahoma Baptist but also around Shawnee in the next months.  I hope we do. 

            At our gathering, along with getting excited about the possibility of creating our own Before I Die wall, we also talked about how we would fill in the blank.  Before I die I want to …  I’d like for all of you to be thinking about that as well.

At the end of her talk, Chang said that “thinking about death clarifies life.”  That is a powerful statement to consider, not only on a general basis, but more specifically as we delve into this passage from Luke’s gospel.  These verses in Chapter 21 are apocalyptic.  They are about the end times.  In two weeks, on the first Sunday of Advent, we’ll again consider the end times in Matthew’s gospel.  But for now we remain with Luke, and in this passage we find Jesus in the temple. 

            Jesus has been teaching in the temple since the beginning of chapter 20.  The temple was the heart and soul of Judaism; not just in worship but in life.  The temple has been predominant throughout Luke’s gospel.  Anna and Simeon both make prophetic declarations about the infant Jesus when he was brought to the temple.  When Jesus was twelve and disappeared from his family, they found him in the temple, astonishing all the learned men around him with a wisdom no twelve-year-old should have possessed.  So it’s not surprising as we move toward the Jesus’ tumultuous last days to find him once more in the temple; teaching and preaching. 

            At the beginning of these verses, people around Jesus are commenting on the beauty of the temple.  They remarked at the beauty of the stones, the foundation of the temple’s architecture, and the gifts to God that had been dedicated there. 

            In response to this, Jesus said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 

            That must have been disconcerting to say the least.  It would be like us gazing at a beautiful, historical landmark – you can choose which one – and discussing the beauty of it, only to hear, “Yeah, but it’s going to be demolished someday, every single piece.”

            As so often happens when Jesus makes a pronouncement like this, the people with him – disciples and otherwise – want to know specifics.  When?  When is this going to happen?  What are the signs we should be looking for?  Give us the clues, Jesus, so we know what to expect and can make the necessary preparations. 

            Jesus never gives them the answer they’re looking for.  He may mention what seem to be signs:  wars, natural disasters, false prophets.  But he refuses to give them a countdown.  There is no timetable or calendar they can turn to.  Although he doesn’t say this here, in other gospel accounts he tells them that even he doesn’t know the date or the hour.  Only God knows. 

            What I find most interesting about Luke’s account is that he tells those who follow him that they will be persecuted for it.  They will be brought before royalty and heads of state.  When that happens that will be their chance to testify, to witness to God’s creative and redemptive work through the Son.  “So,” he tells them, “make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you the words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.” 

            Yeah, I would have a hard time with that one.  If I’m warned that I will be brought before some of the biggest bigwigs in the land and persecuted and prosecuted for my faith, I would want to have some well-worded turns of phrase at the ready.  Even now, although I don’t live in fear of being persecuted for my faith, I think about how I can defend my faith.  I have enough friends who are not believers that I keep some arguments and apologetics on hand for when we get into discussions about belief. 

            So it seems that not only is Jesus not giving them clues or specifics about when the end times will come, he’s also saying, “Don’t think about it.” 

            Not exactly the answer we’re looking for, is it?  Or is it?  It is impossible to stand in the pulpit today and not be fully aware of the tragedy that has struck the Philippines.  The enormous scale of devastation and loss is beyond my comprehension.  In the last decade we’ve seen nature’s terrible devastation time and time again – the 2004 tsunami that struck the Indian Ocean, Hurricane Katrina, the earthquake in Haiti, the earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan, Hurricane Sandy, and much closer to home the havoc wreaked by last spring’s tornados – and with each tragedy, I’ve thought, “There’s no way a camera can fully capture the full scope of this devastation.  There’s no way we can fully appreciate how horrible this is unless we are there.”  It’s hard in the face of such tragedy not to wonder.  Is this a sign?

I suspect that may be the question many folks are asking?  Typhoon Haiyan is the largest, most destructive typhoon ever to hit land, so it would not surprise me at all if preachers and others alike are making direct connections to what’s happened in the Philippines to a sign of the end times.  I imagine that there are many who read this passage from Luke and at other apocalyptic passages in Scripture and see the tragedies all around us as confirmation. 

But I don’t think that the challenge for us is to figure out if these are signs or not.  I think the challenge for us is to remember that right now, right here, in the present we are called to live life.  We are called to see life as a gift.  We are reminded by Jesus’ words that we’re not supposed to be about figuring out how the world is going to end, but instead we need to figure out how to live as God calls us to live right now.  The people in the Philippines are our neighbors.  How will we help them right now?  Death can come at any time.  Are we living as though we understand that truth or are we living as though we believe we have forever?  Do we believe that life is a gift that shouldn’t be squandered?  Or do we spend so much time looking for clues and signs and portents that we ignore God’s presence with us now?  God is calling us to live and serve and love and give right now?  Are we doing that?  Are we doing that in our own lives?  Are we living that out as sisters and brothers in Christ?  Are we embodying that as children of God in God’s world?  Before I die I want to …

In your bulletin this morning, you were given an index card.  I’d like for all of us to write down these words, “Before I die I want to …” and then fill in the blank.  You don’t have to show this to anyone.  You don’t have to put them in the offering plate.  They’re not going to be dedicated or consecrated, at least not publicly.  But I want each of us to take what we write seriously.  It doesn’t matter how grand or how simple your hope or dream is.  Take it seriously.  And find a way to do.  God has given us the gift of life.  God has given us the gift of this moment.  We are called to love and serve and be the people we were created to be right now.  How will we receive this gift?  How will we live right now?   Before I die I want to…

Let all God’s children say, “Alleluia!  Amen.”

Watch Candy Chang's TED Talk here.