I never
know whether to take biblical accounts of the end times literally. Will we wake
up someday to see heaven and earth trembling and Jesus coming in the
clouds? I’m open to that possibility. But I’m more open the possibility that the biblical
description of the second coming is not to be taken literally. Which is right? I dunno.
I
suspect we’re missing the point if we think it all ends with Jesus riding into
town on a white horse, whipping out his six-guns and restoring peace. Jesus
doesn’t come to the rescue of this messed up world at the end and make everything
right, because, for starters, Jesus never left this world to begin with. He
never stopped being Emmanuel, “God with us.” His kingdom is always near, and his
kingdom work continues to be ongoing.
A lot
of people got it wrong the first time Jesus appeared. They studied the
scriptures and they thought they had it all figured out, but their Messiah came
to them in a way they hadn’t expected and they missed him completely. So, I’m always
leery of anybody who thinks they have it all figured out. Even if that anybody happens to be me.
Jesus promised
that he will inaugurate the end of the world as we know it. Maybe it really happens the way we Christians have been taught to expect it. Maybe Jesus
came and lived on this earth until he went up into heaven. And now, maybe we’re
all waiting around for him to come back. That would be kind of like what
happens with my pets, Guido and Pooky, when I leave the house. They run to the
picture window and watch me drive away and Pooky throws a conniption fit. Then
they lie down and go to sleep, until they hear my car return to the driveway,
at which time they jump up and run to greet me at the door. Maybe the second coming of Jesus works like that.
Or
maybe it’s more like that sweet country song where the guy is leaving his kid
to go on a trip and he assures the kid that not only is he going to return, but
he’s already here. Maybe Jesus is
already here. Maybe the second coming is a
process. And maybe we’re all a part of it. That’s what makes the most sense to me.
(Yes, I may very well be wrong, but if I am, God still loves me. And that’s how I’ve
come to see it.)
What I
can’t deny is that this world as we know it will end. Well, I shouldn’t say
that I can’t deny it because, in fact, I spend a lot of time denying it. I get
all caught up in my day-to-day life and lose sight of the larger picture.
There’s a whole big universe out there of which I am just a teeny tiny speck.
And there has been and will be a history of which my life occupies less than a
nano-second. T he
astrophysicist Neil de Grasse Tyson wrote, “If the events that span the 15
billion year timeline of the universe were laid along the length of a football
field, then all of human history would span the thickness of a blade of grass
in the end zone.” This first Sunday of Advent reminds us that we are but a
small part of a cosmic drama that has a beginning and middle and an end.
Jesus himself likens the end of life as we know it to a fig tree. It
doesn’t just lie dormant and then all of a sudden fruit appears. First, the
tree dies. Then it buds. And it blossoms. And it grows. That’s the way God’s
story unfolds. And it’s not just God’s story; it’s our story, too. We’re a part
of it. The way that Jesus continues to remain present in the world today is through
us.
Jesus
promised that he will inaugurate the end of the world as we know it. Will it be
a time of terror, the way we see the apocalypse depicted in the movies? I can’t
bring myself to imagine that, not if God is really the God of love I have come
to trust through the years. What I can imagine, though, is a time when things
are made right and God’s peace, justice and love prevail. That’s my hope. I’m striving
to wait for it patiently, but never passively. It’s my prayer that Jesus may
inaugurate an end to this poor excuse for life that we've come to know and bring us to experience real life in
its place. May that new life come, not despite us, but through us.
It's
the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine... fine...
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine... fine...
--
R.E.M.
The age-old question--"What's the meaning of my life?" For the first time, I see hope in your comment-- "It’s my prayer that Jesus may inaugurate an end to this poor excuse for life that we've come to know and bring us to experience real life in its place. May that new life come, not despite us, but through us." Does that make sense??
ReplyDeletefantastic sermon. your voice echoed in the sanctuary today. you stirred me, and I always need fresh stirring
ReplyDeletethis time of year. thank you!
Nice work- you work at it and you might become a good preacher.
ReplyDelete