Mark 13:24-37
Advent, the church season upon which we have just embarked, a season of uncertainty. Advent is a season for our day. Though humanity has found itself mired in uncertainty many times even in recent history, during World War II, the Bay of Pigs, the cold war, and the Spanish flu pandemic, we feel uncertainty afresh these days. Earlier in April, I enthusiastically declared we would celebrate Easter on whatever Sunday we were back in church. The middle of August, I had the audacity to predict we would restart the pancake breakfast in October. I was going to say: I know better now, but we did reschedule the prayer retreat for the end of April. We can make all the predictions and plans we want, but one thing I’ve learned from our prolonged Advent is that uncertainty cannot be planned away. I like control maybe more than the average person, and I really did believe that, if I were spunky and positive, I could outsmart uncertainty. I haven’t. I won’t. Advent, the season of uncertainty, a season for our day.
We may not see Advent this way, we who know the quote-unquote “end” of the Jesus story. We may see Advent as simply the prelude to a foregone conclusion. After Advent comes Christmas, every year. We light the 3 blue candles. We light the 1 pink one. We sing Prepare ye the way of the Lord. We sing O come, o come, Emmanuel, and right on the dot, December 24 comes, with Silent Night, Holy Night. That’s the way Advent rolls. But that’s not how the first Advent worked, and that’s not where Advent actually points us.
The gospel of Mark, from which our reading comes this morning, was written in about 70 of the common era, about 40 years after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension. At this time and for many years later, the Roman Empire persecuted Jesus followers. Rome occupied Israel, and in 70 of the common era, the temple in Jerusalem, the center of Jewish religious life in the first century, was destroyed in the Roman-Jewish war. Thus, Mark was written right at the time of this incredible devastation, a devastation described in Mark chapter 13, today’s reading. Unlike his earlier healings and feedings, miracles and teachings about giving up possessions and loving our neighbors, Jesus’ sermon in Mark 13 strikes an eerie tone. Today, we only hear the second half of it, the half describing chaos in the natural world and then the coming of the Son of Man. But the first half speaks of wars, earthquakes, and famines, of desolating sacrilege, suffering, betrayal, and of course, the destruction of the temple. Jesus warns the disciples to be on the lookout for false saviors who will lead them astray—for the ancient Jews were waiting for a savior, a Messiah, a king who would end their present suffering and usher in an era of everlasting peace right after the king killed all their enemies.
Suffice it to say: Life for ancient Jews was incredibly uncertain. Life for ancient Jesus followers was incredibly uncertain. Life for us is incredibly uncertain. Of course, we like to pretend it’s not. We makes plans and schedules. We set up routines that provide comfort and structure. Living in an erratic world, we numb our emotions with a variety of vices. We tell ourselves that certain things are for certain, never to be questioned. Actually, this is not the way life is, and even Jesus acknowledges it.
Given our season of pandemic, especially at this particular time when we seem to be on the cusp of the beginning of its end because of the promised vaccines, how very appropriate that we find ourselves in Advent. Perhaps we want to rush to the end, skip Advent and move right to Christmas, to find the baby in the manger, find a savior, find, perhaps, a saving vaccine. I do. But for right now, Advent is where we are. Advent teaches us that while our uncertainty is real, so is our hope.
Our Question of the Day is: Where do you find hope during uncertain times? To find the community’s responses, go to the live stream worship feed on the Grace Facebook page for Sunday, November 29
In all the eerie language of Jesus’ sermon, in all his doomsday prediction, in my consistent avoidance of this portion of the gospels, I have missed this one piece of good news. Jesus describes to his disciples a future of hardship and suffering and uncertainty, and no doubt, they come to experience it. But the one piece we forget is that the Son of Man does come in power and glory. One day, somehow, the Son of Man will come. That is why Jesus commands his disciples: Keep awake—for your hope is certain. Thanks be to God! Amen.