Human-Shaped Hope

Mark:13:24-37

“But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light. The stars will be falling from heaven and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in the clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send the angels to 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. When you see its branches become tender and begin to put forth leaves, you know that summer is near. In the same way, when you see these things begin to take place you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all of these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

“But about that day and 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, who puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Keep awake, therefore, for you do not know when the master of the house will return, in the evening, at midnight, at cock-crow, or at dawn, or else he might find you sleeping when he comes, suddenly. Therefore, what I say to you, I say to all, ‘Keep awake.’”

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I don’t think Jesus is coming back any time soon. I’m not sure if it’s more or less faithful to say that, but it’s how I feel and how I live much more often than not.

I had a seminary professor who claimed to love a cloudy day because he liked to look up and watch for Jesus to show up from behind the next cloud, at any given moment, like this Gospel reading suggests. He was – and I imagine, still is – one of the smartest Bible scholars I’ve known. He was – and I imagine, still is a level-headed, rational, wise, and faithful believer, too. And I imagine he’s still waiting on a cloudy day and watching for Jesus. More power to him, but I’m not that guy. And more on that in moment…

I don’t know how much is too much news to consume about the hostages in Israel and Gaza, but I suspect I’ve seen more than my fair share. I can’t fathom the fear of being held captive, in the dark, in those underground tunnels. I can’t grasp the anxiety of the loved ones who wait and worry and wring their hands for the next list to be announced and for their loved ones to come home.

And, even more, I can’t stop thinking about the kids. The infant boy who was still nursing when he was taken. The four-year-old girl who finally made it home – but only to her aunts, uncles and siblings, because her parents were both killed; and not really “home” because the house she lived in was destroyed and no longer exists.

But the one who gets me most is the 9-year-old little girl, named Emily, whose father was told had died very early on in the attacks, news for which he claimed to be grateful and relieved – because he believed her fate and suffering would have been worse as a hostage all of this time. It turns out she wasn’t killed, after all, and she made it out alive. But when she was returned to her dad, she would or could only whisper. For fear … or because of the demands of her captors over the course of her captivity … or probably both … this little girl couldn’t or wouldn’t speak in her normal voice. Her dad had to put his lips to her ears to hear anything she wanted to say. And the sadness and fear in his own voice as he described that was heartbreaking and terrifying in its own way.

So, I wondered what this Gospel reading might sound like to one of those hostages and to their family members.

“In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light. The stars will be falling from heaven and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”

I wondered that because, this has always sounded like bad news to me … the sun extinguished … the moon dead … the stars falling like shrapnel … the heavens trembling.

But what struck me this time around in a new way, is the hope I wonder if Jesus intended by promising all of it, “In those days, after that suffering…” I wonder if those hostages – or anyone in a similarly desperate, terrifying, sufferable set of circumstances – would see a kind of hope in this, instead of the fear with which these apocalyptic passages are so often received. “In those days, after that suffering…”

See, I realize … and I need to remind myself … that I’ve lived a pretty selfish, self-centered, seemingly self-sufficient life for the most part. Most of the suffering I’ve experienced has been by proxy … alongside others … prayerfully and with, but not IN the depths of the suffering and despair I know others have known, and know as we sit here today.

Of course the hostages in Gaza and the prisoners in Israel – and the war and desolation, the destruction and despair connected with all of that – is one thing.

And there are so many other peoples and places consumed by suffering I feel like I can only watch from a distance, imagine, and pray about.

And I think about the devastating losses in our own community in just the last couple of weeks, too. The tragic, senseless, unnecessary, accidental death of young, beautiful lives full of so much potential and promise – like Lindsay Locker and Evan Neumeister – and what their families and friends suffer, still.

And I think about others we know and have loved who’ve suffered long illnesses – surgeries, medical treatments, mental decline, physical difficulty, chronic pain and all the rest. And the husbands and wives and families who have loved and suffered – and continue to love and suffer – with them through it all.

And, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a contest. Our suffering is relative and we don’t need to minimize our own hardship and struggle because it’s not as bad as, or because it doesn’t measure up to, what others endure. The hope Jesus offers here is for all of us because the truth is we will all suffer in some way, at some point, and that Truth just becomes clearer the more time you spend on the planet and the more you pay attention.

Whatever the case, Jesus’ words today are meant to be a promise, not a threat, and I hope you hear them that way for a change, if you never have before – especially if you’re in the throes of some kind of suffering or grief or struggle at the moment.

Because listen carefully and remember... Jesus says, “in those days… after that suffering…” I think it means something better is on the way. It means that there’s an “after” to whatever suffering plagues you and surrounds us all.

And I think that’s also why Jesus says, “Beware … Keep alert … Stay awake … Go about your business … Live your life…” because you never know when God’s hope will show up in your midst – and you don’t want to miss it. Yeah, it may be this apocalyptic, second-coming sort of stuff, where the clouds part, the thunder rolls, and Jesus shows up like a Marvel super-hero with his band of angels to save the day.

But, in the meantime, it might also be as close and as simple and as quiet and as slow-moving as a fig tree, too, becoming tender, putting forth leaves, bearing fruit, and signaling that something better is on the way.

Beware… Keep alert… Stay awake… it may be as close and as simple and as quiet as a meal from a church member. Or a text from a friend. Or a prayer from your Pastor. A drink with a buddy, that look in your kid’s eyes, a hand from your partner.

And that’s why I’m not staring up at the sky, looking behind the next cloud, for a super-hero to save the day. I’m trying to find this hope, this presence, the nearness of God, in the eyes and hands and hearts of the people around me. And I’m trying to find it in the mirror more often, too … because these Advent days remind us that God comes in the shape of a person, after all… full of grace and truth ... never promising there will be no pain, no suffering, no struggle, no hardship in our lives … but showing up precisely because there has been, is, and will be all of those things too much of the time.

But there is beauty, too. And there is mercy, in this mess. And there is love. And hope. And plenty of reason to look for and to be those things, for ourselves, for each other, and for the sake of the world.

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Bell Ringers and Sinning Boldly

Matthew 25:31-46

‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family,* you did it to me.”

Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.’

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It’s that time of year again, where you can’t walk into a store without passing someone ringing a bell. Yesterday was our first encounter with the bell ringers and I must admit, I walked right on by, not even checking if I had any cash or spare change. Then on our way home from the store,

there was a woman at the intersection, holding a sign that said Anything helps. God Bless. Again, I didn’t search to see if there were some loose nickels or pennies in the cupholders. I gave no food or water nor offered a ride. I just said a little prayer as we drove on by. Does that make me a sheep or a goat?

Afterall, the money that goes into those red kettles provides meals to those who are hungry, clothes to people who are homeless, and many other social services for the sick and impoverished. Or what about the woman on the street corner or the people we pass on washington st, they likely need food or water or money yet rarely do I give it. Or the countless appeals you’ll get from nonprofits in two days on Giving Tuesday? All of those are instances to help a neighbor in need, no? And if I don’t do them, does that mean I will go away into eternal punishment?

What we really want to know is are we righteous or accursed? On the left hand or on the right? Are we sheep or are we goats? And it would be easy to think this parable from Matthew provides a simple, straightforward answer. If I do acts of mercy to those less fortunate, drop a few coins in a kettle, give some money to the person at the intersection, then I am good to go. And if I don’t then I’m a sheep out of luck, otherwise known as a goat. This seems easy enough, but there are a few problems with such a reading.

First and foremost, this passage is a parable, just like the stories from the past two weeks. It’s not meant to be a prediction or foretelling of what will happen on the last days. Rather, it's a teaching that reveals something about Christ himself. Secondly, how many times must I do these acts of mercy in order to become a sheep? Jesus says “just as you did it to one of the least of these”, so does it only take one time? One act of mercy? Or is it the opposite? One missed opportunity and you're forever marked a goat? And lastly, the king says that the righteous will inherit the kingdom prepared for them from the beginning of time/world; yet, you don’t work to inherit something, it’s simply given to you. And does this mean God decided beforehand who will be sheep and who will be goats, as if God already knew and made the kingdom with them in mind?

For me this story is not about doing acts of mercy so that you can be a sheep and get into heaven. Because the truth is we are all goats: stinky, smelly, sometimes greedy goats. No amount of money given to red kettles, no number of people fed or clothed or visited is going to change that. Only one thing changes that, changes us and it’s faith. We are saved, made sheep if you will, by faith alone, which comes to us through Christ’s death and resurrection, making it so that we too died and were raised to new life. No longer then does God look upon us as the sinners we are, but instead sees only Christ and his works, not ours.

This faith then, this trust and confidence that God freely loves and forgives us, changes us. No longer are we goats worried about what to do and how to become sheep. Instead, acts of mercy spontaneously flow from the faith that is ours through Christ.

As Luther puts it, Faith is a divine work in us which changes us and births us anew out of God… it makes us into entirely different people from the heart, soul, mind, and all powers... Oh it is a living, busy, active, mighty thing, this faith, so it is impossible that it should not do good. It does not ask if good works should be done, but before one asks, has done them and is always active.

Faith and good deeds are different sides of the same coin. Giving money, supporting those in need, and loving our neighbors are all signs that God is at work in you.

But even our good works are tinged with a bit of sin, no? We might be made sheep, but that doesn’t suddenly make us or this world perfect.

• If I put money in that red kettle, out of fear of going away into eternal punishment, who am I really serving, the other person or myself?

• And is giving to the salvation army the best use of money? Are there other organizations doing better work or using the money more efficiently and effectively? Or how do I choose what cause to give to? The need is overwhelming!

• Or what about the people holding signs on street corners like the woman I passed yesterday? What we might think a good deed could cause more harm than good. What if the person suffers from addiction and uses the money to buy opioids or alcohol? Doesn’t that kind of charity enable their lifestyle? Or what if they’re robbed while living on the street, which is a common occurrence.

• So maybe I don’t do that and next time I give them a list of resources to call like this one from CHIP? But what good is that if they don’t have a phone or it's not charged or they struggle to communicate or they don’t have food for the night?

• And if I serve one neighbor, doesn’t that limit me from serving someone else? Do I start with the neediest and if so how do I pick? But if I spend all my time doing that, how can I serve my family?

And the list could go on and on, until we feel helpless. So what is there to do?

Be a sinner and sin boldly. But let your faith in Christ be stronger.

That’s what Martin Luther wrote to his friend Philip and a group of reformers who were trying to make changes that were free of sin, but with every thought and decision they grew more aware that sin was unavoidable.

The same is true for us. We are both righteous and unrighteous, sheep and goats, and everything we do is tinged with sin. Yet, we are still called to serve our neighbor, who is Jesus.

That’s the point of the parable, that Christ the King is revealed not in the halls of power or on thrones of wealth, but in the hungry and thirsty; the sick and the stranger, the homeless and imprisoned; or simply the neighbor who needs your help.

So let your faith spur you into action this holiday season and sin boldly, trusting in Christ all the more. If you walk past a red kettle and drop your spare change in, sin boldly and trust Christ will be at work. If you give money to the person at the intersection, sin boldly and trust Christ more. If you give a list of resources or pray as your drive by, sin boldly and trust Christ more.

It is faith that moves us into action and makes what we do a good work in the eyes of God. So sin boldly, but let your faith in Christ be stronger. Amen.