Allegations, Apocalypse, and Advent – Mark 13: 24-37

Mark 13:24-37

"But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see "the Son of Man coming in clouds' with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. 

"From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 

"But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake--for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake."

---

After my initial reading of the gospel text assigned for today, I quickly turned to a preaching commentary for some guidance. This is what I found on the very first page:

“Contrary to the manner in which it is often celebrated in the churches, Advent begins not on a note of joy, but of despair. Humankind has reached the end of its rope. All our schemes for self-improvement, for extracting ourselves from the traps we have set for ourselves, have come to nothing. We have now realized at the deepest level of our being that we cannot save ourselves, and that, apart from the intervention of God, we are totally and irretrievably lost.”*

If you’d prefer a message about joy, go listen to my midweek sermon on the Christmas movie Elf. But today we’re talking about an apocalypse.

Advent this year begins with an APOCALYPSE! 

• Apocalyptic literature is a literary devise in which events are reinterpreted and reapplied in each context.
• Things are bad, they may get worse - it does not mean God has abandoned us, nor forsaken us, nor has God “lost” The apocalypse is not about watching and waiting passively, but actively bearing good fruit and participating in the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God
• The purpose of Apocalyptic literature is to INSPIRE HOPE not to sow fear
• “The basic message of apocalyptic visions is this: The rebellion against the reign of God is strong, as the wicked oppress the righteous. Things will get worse before they get better. But hang on just a little longer, because just when you are sure you cannot endure, God will intervene to turn the world right side up.”**
• The in-breaking of the Kingdom and the right-side-up-ing of the world is a tumultuous experience. These things have taken place in the past, through the cross. These things will continue to take place each time those who are suffering rise up against and topple the powers.

“Stay Awake”

• Mark is addressing Jesus’ crucifixion as well as the destruction of the temple-centered society
• Reference to the disciples’ inability to stay away in the garden as Jesus prays prior to his betrayal and crucifixion
• v. 35 - when will the Master come? Evening, Midnight, at Cockcrow or at Dawn?
  • “When it was evening”- Mark 14:17-Last Supper
  • “He found them sleeping” - Mark 14:40 - in the middle of the night
  • “At that moment the cock crowed” Mark 14:72 - the denial of Peter
  • “At daybreak” - Mark 15:1 - Jesus is handed over to Pilate
• Is our faith lulling us to sleep or keeping us awake at night?
• “….[A]ll of our anticipation and preparation of Jesus’ second advent should be shaped by his first advent in the form of a vulnerable infant and as a man hanging on a tree. More than that, I think Mark is inviting us to look for Jesus – even here, even now – in similar places of vulnerability, openness, and need.” ***

Let’s Get Practical
Typically as Advent kicks off I am ready to throw out nuggets of wisdom like: 
“Don’t sing Christmas carols during Advent” or
“Make sure you don’t overspend on Christmas presents” or
“Don’t get caught in the mania and commercialization of Christmas.”  

However, I’m realizing this year that these are not the most pressing issues we’re dealing with. No, this year I’m realizing that things look bad, and they might even get worse. Right? I mean, things are bad.

Case in point, I bet you don’t even know which bad things I’m about to talk about!

It is the threat of nuclear war? 

The prevalence of gun violence unique to our nation?

Well, those are bad; and the list can certainly continue with issues weighing on your hearts. But I’m thinking about an apocalypse that is much more personal – an ugly truth about our world that some of you have known about for a long time and which I am only slowly being brought up to speed. 

Given that the message of this first Sunday in Advent is the admonition to stay awake as well as an invitation to look for Jesus in the places of vulnerability, openness, and need and participate in the toppling of the powers; I can think of no more practical issue to address than the prevalence of sexual abuse and harassment in America. 

Like you, I’ve watched as men in positions of power have been revealed as predators. Each morning there are new allegations that someone has used his power to manipulate, coerce, or physically force others into sexually inappropriate situations. Each morning there is news that such a person, so long as he’s not a politician, has been fired or stepped down from his position. I’ve watched women step out from the shadows, buoyed by an understanding that they did not bring such action on themselves and that they are not alone.

I’ve watched all this happen with no clear understanding of how I should respond. 

As a man in today’s society, what can I say? 

As someone who has seen firsthand the wake of destruction left behind by sexual predators, what is my response?

As someone who, by virtue of my career, can claim at least some degree of power in today’s society, what should I do?

I do not ask out of a sense of defensiveness, as if I feel the need to defend the abhorrent behavior of other men. Rather, I ask because this is yet another moment where the Kingdom of God is breaking in on our world. People who have been victimized are standing up and confronting the power structures of today. This is another apocalypse. 

Two thousand years ago the apocalypse to which Mark referred in his Gospel was the corruption of the temple-centered universe that failed to treat people equally and kept God at a distance; today it is the corruption of masculinity that has made women around the globe feel inferior and voiceless – a toxic masculinity that teaches boys from a young age women are inferior in every way. 

In the midst of this apocalypse God calls us to respond not with watching and waiting passively, but by staying awake and actively participating in the in-breaking of the Kingdom.

I have an idea about what it would mean for me to participate in the in-breaking of the Kingdom in regard to this issue. I think I need to listen.

This week I listened to a podcast called Pantsuit Politics. A friend of mine from Paducah, Kentucky co-hosts the program. It’s a top-tier podcast with millions of downloads. In the episodes I listened to this week I heard an impassioned plea for women to assert themselves and for men to be quiet for once and listen. And not just listen, but believe. 

Believe when a woman accuses a man of inappropriate sexual behavior.

Believe when a woman says she’s been treated differently from men her whole life.

Believe when women say that our world would be better if women’s gifts, intelligence, leadership, and insights were given equal weight as men’s. 

I was particularly struck by this comment:

Having listening to the episodes and having started to reflect on the scope of this problem as well as the ways in which I have been shaped by a culture of toxic masculinity, I feel compelled to participate in God’s kingdom in-breaking in on our oppressive and unjust society. I believe God is doing something incredible through the courage and bravery of women who have taken a stand and insisted on being treated equally and insisted that men to keep their hands to themselves (and be held accountable when they cannot do that).

In this season of Advent, characterized by anticipation of the arrival of God in a new way both through the manger and through the cross, I hope that women will continue to be inspired and encouraged by the ones who are speaking up and demanding justice. I hope that women will seek out allies and continue to share their stories. I hope men will listen to women who have been victimized and I hope men will dedicate themselves to serious reflection. I hope that if you have been mistreated, abused, or assaulted, you'll realize that it is not your fault. And I hope Cross of Grace can be a safe and open space to accomplish some of this meaningful, kingdom-bringing work. 

I hope women will persevere even when people them they are wrong and that “that’s just how the world works,” because God has a habit of disrupting the way the world works when the world doesn’t work for everyone equally.  

So maybe my disclaimer at the beginning of the sermon was unnecessary. Maybe this actually is a message of joy. Joy in the despair; joy in the honesty, and joy at God’s promise that something new, beautiful, inclusive, and just will be born out of the struggle. 

Amen.

* Texts for Preaching, Year B, p. 1

** Christopher Hutson, Feasting on the Word, p. 22

*** David Lose (http://www.davidlose.net/2014/11/advent-1-b/)

"Half Truths: God Helps Those Who Help Themselves"

Mark 2:1-12

When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. 

Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” 

Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts, “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” At once Jesus perceived in his spirit that they were discussing these questions among themselves; and he said to them, “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he said to the paralytic—“I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go to your home.” And he stood up, and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

---

Of the many half-truths commonly associated with the Christian scriptures, few get me a riled up as the phrase, “God helps those who help themselves.” It’s not that the sentiment is false (I’d actually call it a “3/4 truth” instead of a “half truth”); the problem is that this phrase is usually employed as a way to justify our judgment and condemnation of people whom we deem as unworthy of our help.

“God helps those who help themselves” is a philosophy that too-often sidesteps the importance of grace and gives us a false illusion of our role in the world.

This phrase is conditional; as in, if you do something and then earn something equal in response. For example, “If you eat your vegetables, then you can have dessert.” Christians ought to be careful in employing “if…then” conditional philosophies, because our God is not an “if…then” God. 

Instead, God is an “I am” God. 

God has always been and will always be the prime mover and the creator. God’s blessings are eternal and not dependent on our moral righteousness. There is nothing you or I can do to earn God’s love, forgiveness, blessing, or help. Likewise, there is nothing you or I can do to make God’s promises of love, forgiveness, blessing, and help invalid. We are sinners whom God loves dearly and freely forgives despite our not deserving forgiveness. This is grace – a bedrock of our faith and religious life.

We sidestep grace when we think that our decisions or actions are the basis for God’s corresponding response. This understanding prioritizes human initiative over God’s. As though we are in the driver’s seat. As though God withholds blessings until we earn them through making good, just, and correct decisions. It is as heretical to believe that we earn the blessings we receive as it is to believe that others deserve a lack of blessing. The beautiful truth is that grace is the first and last word, and we are privileged to live in its midst.

My primary theological issue with the phrase “God helps those who help themselves” is that it leaves little room for the foundational and radical truth of grace. My primary practical issue with this phrase is that it shifts responsibility away from ourselves and solely onto the shoulders of the person who needs help–shoulders that simply cannot bear that burden. 

It is true that we ultimately cannot make decisions on behalf of someone who needs help. For example, we cannot overcome someone else’s addiction for them. But everything up to that point is our shared communal responsibility. We, in community, bear responsibility to be present, to love, to persist, to forgive, and to be in relationship with those who need help, regardless of whether we thing they’re doing enough to deserve help.

I am reminded of an experience I had while serving as a hospital chaplain during seminary. One day a fellow student found himself in an argument with our supervisor over the role of a hospital chaplain (or any Christ-follower, for that matter). My colleague spoke about his frustration with a patient who didn’t seem to want to be healed. Our supervisor angrily told him he had no business judging the patient’s desire for healing or lack thereof. 

Our supervisor proceeded to describe the chaplain’s role using an analogy of a pit. If someone is in a pit of despair or hopelessness, the chaplain’s role is not to stand safely at the precipice and lower a rope and command the person to get out (nor to judge the person if they didn’t grab onto the rope); but rather, the chaplain is to get down in the pit and be present with the person who is suffering. 

We can never truly judge what motivates someone who is suffering. Our response is to be an unconditional, honest, supportive, non-anxious presence for people who are suffering. We strive to be empathetic and present, but we are not that suffering person’s savior and it is not for us to determine how or when someone makes it out of the pit.

Too often, we stand at the precipice of pits where people are suffering and yell down judgments like, “Do you even want to get better” or “You brought this on yourself” or “God helps those who help themselves.” These sentiments may come from honest and well-intentioned hearts, but they won’t make a bit of difference unless they are spoken from a place of vulnerability and empathy with the one who is suffering. Unless we first listen, we cannot understand what people believe about themselves and their worthiness or ability to be helped.

Joining people in their suffering is hard holy work; which is why it is never to be undertaken alone. This work requires a community of support and a network of relationship. Today’s gospel tells the story of four people who bring a paralyzed man to Jesus by lowering him through the roof into the home where Jesus is staying. The gospel story makes no mention of the paralyzed man’s desire for healing or why he was paralyzed in the first place. All we know is that there was a group of people who desired so deeply for the man to be healed by Jesus that they went to extraordinary measures to make that possible. We do not go to such great lengths unless we truly empathize with, and love, the person who is suffering.

Contrast that story with this one: Earlier this week Federal Judge Sarah Evans Barker spoke to a gathering of Indianapolis-area Lutheran clergy. She informed us that the overwhelming majority of people who appear before her in federal court for sentencing have no one show up in the gallery to support them. One could draw the conclusion, then, that the majority of people convicted of committing crimes are not connected to a community that empathizes with, and loves, them. The fact that every corner of our society is pushing further and further toward isolation and individualization will have disastrous consequences. The world needs empathetic, loving community now more than ever.

Imagine a community that doesn’t judge who is worthy of help and who is not; but rather is motivated by a the mission to stand in solidarity with all who suffer in the pits of despair.

Imagine a community that doesn’t shout instructions safely from the sidelines, but enters into the depths of despair in order to whisper words of peace and provide a comforting embrace.

Imagine a community not concerned with superficial appearances or conversation; but a community held together with authentic, compassionate, God-centered relationship. 

I am here today because I found such a community. You see, I lost my faith in God while in college. It was a terrifying time for me. I do not recall which came first, but I experienced a debilitating depression at the same time. I barely managed to complete the last semester of my Junior year, but when I did I had no options for the summer. My plan was to return home and spend my days and nights sleeping, which often seemed like all I could do. But then I received a phone call from the director of the Lutheran summer camp where I had worked the previous two summers. She told me they were in desperate need of staff for the summer. As much as I pushed back, she was relentless. With nothing better to do, I showed up with the intention of serving as the lifeguard that summer. 

A few nights into our staff training program, we were around the campfire sharing our faith stories. As each person spoke I became more and more nervous because for the first time I felt safe enough to open up about my lost faith, my struggles, my depression. I hadn’t shared any of that with anyone except my parents (and even with them I only told them part of the story). I hadn’t shared my experiences because the thing I feared most was rejection. I knew that my community of friends and family were the only positive force in my life at the time and I couldn’t risk losing their support. But there, around the fire, hearing other college-age students share their faith, questions, and doubts, I felt the courage to be honest. 

And so I told the truth. I publicly announced my inability to believe in God, which up to that point had been my secret shame. Their response was neither pity nor condemnation. Instead, they thanked me, hugged me, and made it clear that they appreciated my presence and friendship. Many asked if I would be willing to talk more about my struggles so they could better understand.

At a time in my life when I felt completely helpless, a community of Christ followers joined me in my suffering, responded with unconditional grace, and helped me on the path back to faith and trust in a God who had been with me all along.

It is true that God helps those who help themselves; but it is also true, and infinitely more important, that God helps those who cannot help themselves. And the best part is that God helps us with that hard, holy work. 

Amen.