Luke 21:25-36
“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. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”
Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down by dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”
A couple of weeks ago, on our way to Ohio for a football game and a college visit, the boys and I took a little detour. After sitting for a while in some stopped and slow-moving traffic on I-70, in the dark, close to midnight, sandwiched between semis and seeing no end in sight, I decided to get off at the next exit ramp, turn on my GPS, and hit the country roads – just to keep moving – until we could find our way back to the interstate, hopefully somewhere up beyond the traffic jam.
Thankfully, as you know, detours these days, with cell phones and Global Positioning Satellites, aren’t what they used to be. We just hopped off the east-bound interstate and kept driving – for a few minutes – until the navigator stopped trying to turn us around, to re-route us, as they are inclined to do, back to the route we were following in the first place.
In other words, we had to get far enough off-track, far enough away from our original route – lost enough, if you will – before our GPS would begin to send us in a new direction and onto a different path toward our destination.
This made me think of Jesus’s words this morning, because I think it’s more than a little bit of what the season of Advent is supposed to be for us as Children of God, waiting on the coming of our salvation, in Jesus, at Christmas.
These Advent days are meant to be a season of darkness; of searching; of lost-ness; of longing; of admitting and experiencing the fullness of our need for direction, our need for salvation, our need for redemption at the hands of God in Jesus.
This morning, we hear Jesus say some pretty ominous thing. “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars.” He says there will be “distress among confused nations.” He says there will be “fainting from fear and foreboding” about all that’s coming upon the world. And he says that the powers of the heavens will be shaken. It sounds scary…and like a mess…and about as lost or afraid as we might ever expect to be. And Jesus’ words seem particularly on point this time around, it seems to me.
I don’t know what the signs in the sun, the moon, or the stars might be trying to spell out, exactly, but I know NASA launched a rocket into outer space just this past Wednesday, to practice nudging an asteroid enough to change its trajectory in case we ever have to do that in the future to save our planet from an errant celestial body.
And when I think about “distressed nations, confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves,” I think about climate scientists warning that if we don’t do something to maintain or limit or lower the temperature of the planet that, among so many other things, there are islands and coastal cities and whole hosts of living things in danger of destruction when/if “the roaring of the sea and the waves” really does overtake them.
And, as a new COVID variant does its thing, there is fainting and fear and foreboding, for sure, about however it might threaten whatever progress we’ve made where the pandemic is concerned.
And with all of that in mind, Jesus gives us this strange little parable about the trees: “As soon as they sprout leaves,” he promises, “you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.”
Another way to say it might be, “when you see these things take place…” “when you’re just about as lost as you think you could be…” “when it’s just about as bad as you imagine it could get…” “when there is distress and fear and fainting and foreboding … new leaves and new life are on the way.” Or, maybe, “You’re lost, but keep driving, because your redemption is drawing near and it might be just up around the next bend.”
See, it’s tempting to – and lots of people do – use this passage to make predictions about the end of times, but I’ve never wanted to go there. I take comfort in the other Gospels where Jesus explains that “neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son” – not even Jesus, himself – but only the Father knows if or how or when all of this “end times” stuff will come to pass. (He says as much in both Matthew’s Gospel and in Mark’s, too, along with very similar language about ‘this generation not passing away’ … ‘heaven and earth passing away,’ but not his words … and all the rest.)
Anyway, I’ve always figured that, if the angels and Jesus can’t make any guesses about all of that, then I surely don’t have to bother – and probably shouldn’t. And I’m suspicious of anyone who does.
So, when Jesus talked about the signs that would come; about the powers that would be shaken; about the fear and foreboding and distress among the nations; I don’t believe he was pretending to look into his crystal ball. Otherwise, I kind of, sort of believe the Son of God would have made a little more accurate of a prediction.
No, rather than predict the future, I believe Jesus’ words are meant to inspire the present. Jesus isn’t predicting destruction down the road, he’s promising salvation now. While it seems Jesus might be reporting the evening news for any given time and place, he’s really proclaiming hope for the ages. And he’s not one to pull punches or sugar-coat the reality of what swirls around us as his followers; as people on the planet; as children of God.
Wars rage. People starve. Children are abused. Injustice wins. There is cancer and Parkinson’s Disease and Alzheimer’s and more.
So, no matter how hard we plan, pretend, or pray, signs are everywhere of our need for grace, mercy, peace and salvation – from somewhere and someone more powerful than ourselves. This is the news we’re called to attend to on this first Sunday of Advent. It’s not meant simply to sadden us. It’s not meant to scare us. And it’s not meant to send us reeling into the darkness, either.
It’s meant to encourage us to keep driving; to acknowledge how lost we can be so much of the time but to not fear that lost-ness – to not let the darkness get the best of us.
I think we’re meant to keep driving because there is a new way coming; a different path is still waiting to be travelled; a light shines into this darkness and we won’t be able to miss it, if we’re paying attention.
I think we’re meant to keep driving – because God isn’t afraid of however broken or scared or lost or alone we might be from one moment to the next. In fact, I think God does God’s best work with what’s most broken, scared, lost or dying in our midst.
So, let’s let these Advent days be a reminder of and practice for us to hope and to wait with patience when we can find it – to stand up and raise our heads, even – to keep driving, no matter how lost we feel, and to trust that our redemption is always near, especially when we need it most.
Amen
