Readings
Jeremiah 33:14-16
Psalm 25:1-9
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
Luke 21:25-36
When I was a kid, probably in the first or second grade, my parents took me to Disneyland for the first time I can remember. I was so excited I could hardly sleep. The next day we made the drive to Anaheim from San Diego and all the way there we talked about all the things we could and would do. This only made my excitement grow all the more. Well, we got there, got our tickets and entered the park. As we came through the tunnel onto Main Street USA my heart leapt when I saw Donald Duck standing there larger than life. Without even thinking I took off as fast as my feet could carry me. I was bound and determined to shake that duck’s hand.
Well, I got there and shook his hand and then turned to share my joy with my family. Only when I turned around, all I could see were crowds of people. I couldn’t see my sister, or my mom, or my dad. Terror immediately welled up inside of me and I started to cry. To my surprise, Donald Duck took my hand and headed me over towards the fire house. There I was greeted by a very nice lady who asked me if I was lost. I nodded and she took me inside. She told me not to be worried, that my family were looking for me and I would likely see them soon. In the meanwhile, I sat waiting. I worried that my family would never find me. I worried that I would be lost forever. And deep within me was a deep and ever-growing desire to see my parents. Every so often that same nice lady would sit down next to me and tell me that it was going to be ok and remind me that my parents would be here soon. I sat and waited, filled with anxious anticipation and expectation.
And then, when all hope seemed to be lost the door opened and my folks stepped inside. The sense of relief I felt was overwhelming. The love I felt for my mom and dad was all consuming and all I could do was rush for them filled with tears of both remorse and joy. I wrapped my arms around them with the intent of never letting go. I’ll never forget the moment that they appeared because it was so filled with deep emotion. And while I didn’t have the language at the time, I truly felt blessed by their return and had a sense that everything was going to be ok.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus once again uses apocalyptic language to comfort and encourage his disciples. Remember that, as I shared in my sermon a couple of weeks ago, the principal purpose of apocalyptic language is to give hope; hope that we are not abandoned by God, hope that when life get’s scary or difficult something better is coming, and hope that the brokenness we see in the world will be transformed by God.
Today’s gospel starts with the woes that we will see. But Jesus quickly says that “the son of man” will “come with power and great glory.” In other words when bad things happen, or when the end is near, we can trust that Christ has not abandoned us. We can trust that the transformation of the world is just around the corner.
He then encourages them by telling them that “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.”
Now that begs the question “how are we to interpret these words?”
Are we to take to heart that Jesus will literally show up descending from a cloud and remake the world in our midst? Are we to assume that this will all happen within our lifetime?
Well, if that were true it would have happened a long time ago. No, beloved, this passage, like much of Jesus’ teaching is metaphor and not literal.
This Gospel passage is meant to give us hope. But the return of Christ in our “own generation” is more about our experience of the in-breaking presence of God. An experience that each of us will have. It is about the idea that Christ will return to each of us again and again throughout our lives. It is the encouragement that our pain and the pain of the world can be transformed.
But we are also warned to be on guard so that we don’t miss it. We are being called to not distract ourselves with the vices or the worries of this world. It is so easy to fritter away our days distracted and diminished. Whether it is worries about global warming, the economy, or our current political culture and conflict, it is easy to feel as if the world is coming to an end. It is easy to be filled with worry and a sense of hopelessness. But it is also possible that we equally fritter away our lives through an all-consuming desire to escape those concerns through materialism, addiction, or neurotic levels of denial.
This season of Advent, which we begin today, offers us an alternative and a way for being present to the coming of Christ. Advent is a season inviting us to prepare our hearts and selves for the in-breaking of God. It is a time that invites us to do something totally counter cultural. Namely, to be quiet and reflective.
How do we do that? Through small acts of quiet contemplation and through acts that intentionally step away from the forces that cause us to fritter away our existence. Imagine, if you will, taking one minute (60 seconds) twice a day to reflect on the presence of God within you and within your life. Imagine choosing to step away from the perpetual news cycle and fasting from it, or at the very least reducing it, from your daily consumption. Imagine focusing, just for a season, on the abundance of your life and in some small way sharing what you have with someone less fortunate than you.
Each of these acts are an opportunity to live into the witness of today’s Gospel and the hope of the season of Advent. Namely that the return of Christ is something that each of us can experience in our lives today and not just at the end of our mortal life.
My hope for each of us is that, just as a lost young boy not only hoped for the return of his parents but joyfully experienced it, each of us will know the return of Christ in our own lives again and again.
May we all experience the quiet, the mystery, and the hope of this Advent season. May we, as we wait and prepare for the celebration of Jesus’ birth, proclaim with anticipation and joy “come, Lord Jesus.”