Here We Go Again
Luke 21:25-36
Sermon
by Mark Trotter

This last week I got a letter addressed to, "The Pastor of the MethodistChurch," unsigned. It began, "To the church that awaits my coming. I am the Lord."

That got my attention. This is from Jesus, I could see. It was handwritten, which I want to point out to all of you who have been trying to get me to get a computer. I just follow Jesus. When he gets one, I'll get one.

I read on. "I am not pleased with those who claim to be members of my body. You have turned away from me." The letter continues with an indictment of Christians, how we have all gone astray. It concludes by warning, "The end comes quickly. You will see many signs, but they will not be by me." The last sentence of the letter counsels us to look to the scripture for an understanding of what will come and what you will see on those last days.

Well I was doing that very thing when I got this letter. I was working on this sermon, which just so happens to be the text for this Sunday from the 21st chapter of Luke. It is about the last days and what we are to look for. Listen to it again. And there will be signs in the sun and moon and stars, and on earth distress from the roaring of the seas, and fear from the shaking of the heavens. And then the Son of Man will come on a cloud. When these things take place, stand up and raise your heads, for your redemption draws near.

These verses come at the end of the 21st chapter of Luke. The whole chapter of Luke, however, is the record of Jesus' prediction of the destruction of the Temple, and the city of Jerusalem. The Temple and the city were destroyed in 70 A.D. Luke wrote this gospel shortly after 70 A.D. The church he wrote to was in Asia Minor, what we today call Turkey. Some of you, I know, have been there as tourists and seen these ancient churches founded in the first century, such as Ephesus. This gospel is addressed to one of those churches.

They had heard about what happened at Jerusalem. They undoubtedly knew the Jewish belief that when Jerusalem and the Temple are destroyed that would be the precipitating event for God to put an end to this world, and to establish a new world. The Temple was destroyed. The city now lies in ruins. 70 A.D. What does it mean?

It was obvious. These are the last days. There will be earthquakes, the roaring of the sea, all phenomena of nature. Which means the creation itself will be transformed and participate in the re-creation of the world.

Then, "The heavens will shake," a clear reference to empires falling; namely Rome. That is what they will look for, Rome's demise. It was believed that each star referred to a particular emperor. That is why kings, like Herod, in the nativity story, are so interested in the rising and falling of stars. Kings in those days were advised by astrologers, who believed a rising star meant that a new king was on the ascent, and a falling star meant that an old empire, an old king, was on his way out. So Jesus says, "People will faint from fear at what is happening when they see the heavens shaking."

"Then they will see the Son of Man coming on a cloud with power and great glory." The Son of Man was one of the titles for the Messiah. There were several titles for the Messiah. This is the title used by those people who said, the Messiah is going to be a strong-man, a super-human hero, coming out of the heavens, like the fictional characters your children and grandchildren play with in computer games and watch on television. Some super-human savior will come to engage in battle against the forces of evil. That would be the Son of Man.

The gospel is written to Luke's church to give them reassurance that though Jerusalem has now been destroyed, a most catastrophic event in that time of history, God is still in charge. Other worldly powers will fall. Then the Son of Man will come, and there will be a new heaven and a new earth, and the kingdoms of this world will become the Kingdoms of our Lord, and God's will will be done on earth just as it is in heaven. That is what we pray for every day. "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

It's going to happen. That's what Luke says. "So when these things take place, stand up and lift of your heads, for your redemption is drawing near."

Such a wonderful passage, especially if you were a member of Luke's church, say around 80 A.D. It would give you tremendous hope that as fearful as these days are, as anxiety-producing the events happening all around us, God is in charge. Therefore, good awaits us, and not evil. There will be life, not destruction awaiting us. There will be a new heaven and a new earth. The ones who stand against God are going to face the consequences. But the faithful can lift up their heads, in hope. That is what all this means in the 21st chapter of Luke.

But I remind you, the Son of Man did not come, nor did any of these signs come, nor did Rome fall (not for another four hundred years), and the end of history has not come, not even yet. Yet some people still read these prophesies as if they were describing our time, right now, as if nobody else had really understood them until now, until they came along. As if the events described in Luke had been hidden until now. Now it is revealed that the prophesies are referring to events in our time. Like my friend who anonymously sent me "the word," or, like those little apocalyptic communities that are sprouting up like mushroom after the rain, as we approach the millennium, who gather out at Sedona, Arizona, to wait for the fireworks.

I tell you, there are very few certainties in this life, but one of them is this. Every single prediction of the end of the world has been wrong. Which I would think would prompt people to have some reticence about making future predictions. But it doesn't even slow them down. They just say, "Well, everybody else was wrong. They don't understand what I know. I have the truth. So here is the way it is going to be..." They point out the earthquakes in MammothLakes. There was one thousand of them in one day. And, that comet at the beginning of this year, the one that precipitated that terrible event in Rancho Santa Fe. And then, the fall of the Communist Empire. We have seen that. You add all those things together, see them as a whole, and well, you had better sell your property and follow me out to Sedona, Arizona.

The title of this sermon is, "Here We Go Again," because this has happened so often. It has happened in every generation, because every generation has earthquakes. Every generation has comets. Halley's Comet arrives every seventy-five years, right on schedule, to scare the "apocalypse" out of everybody. It comes in every age. Every age empires will fall. But that doesn't deter them. Why is that? Why do they keep predicting?

The answer is important. To be a human being is to expect that life is going to be better than it is now. That is why the most human characteristic is "hope." That is what it means to be human. To be human means to be a hopeful being. Hope is the expectation that things are going to get better.

The Jews are necessary for our understanding of the human condition. The Jews provide us with the stories that enable us to understand who we are, the meaning of our lives. There are two great stories in Jewish history. The first is the Exodus. The second the Exile. Both are stories of "not having."

The Exodus says that life is a journey from where we are to where we want to be. It is a journey filled with many dangers, snares and toils. At the end of our journey, there is a Promised Land, a life the way we want it to be, a life flowing with milk and honey.

There is no one in this world who does not understand that story, and does not respond to it, in some form or another. Even today, especially today, there are exodus' happening all over this world. People leaving where they are and going to where they want to be. People in tyranny going to freedom. People in poverty going to a better life. The first image of our life is that of the Exodus.

The other image is that of the Exile. In the Bible, it is also called the Babylonian Captivity. The Exile is when life arranges itself so that we are in a captivity, a bondage, alienated from the life we used to have. We used to have a good life, but then it was taken away from us. Now we live in lonely exile here. There isn't a person in this world who hasn't already, or someday, will experience a good life, and then lose it, and not be able to recapture it.

Therefore, there isn't a person in this world who doesn't know that someday, somehow, in some event, or in some person, something will happen to lead me to a promised land, or, end the exile and take me back to the life that I used to have. Hope is the most universal of human characteristics, because incompleteness and isolation and deprivation and alienation are universal human experiences.

Some people mourn that life has never been the way it should be. Other people mourn that life is no longer as good as it used to be. One is an exodus to a promised land, and the other is an exile from that promised land.

Andre Gide wrote a short story called, The Pastoral Symphony, in which he talked about a young girl who was blind from birth. In her blindness she created in her imagination what she thought the world was like. Her family recognized this, and wanted to protect her from the real world by not telling her what the real world was like, so that she could maintain this innocence, a vision of an ideal world.

One day an eye operation was performed and she could see again. She was struck by two things: First, nature was much more beautiful than she had ever imagined it would be. Secondly, the faces of people were sadder than she ever thought they would be.

So many of us, "mourn in exile here, until the Son of God appears." Israel described the human condition that way.

Israel also articulated the human hope, the Messiah. Messiah means, God will come and save us. God will lead us safely through the wilderness to our promised future. God will lead us back home, to Jerusalem, to rebuild the city.

The problem is that Israel expected several Messiahs. A better way of saying it is, there were several version of who this Messiah would be, or how, or at what time, or when the Messiah would come. From the Son of Man, the warrior; to the Suffering Servant, who was despised and rejected; from a King on a white horse; to the Shepherd, who carries the lambs in his bosom; from a supernatural cosmic figure; to the helpless babe in the manger.

You can pay your money and take your choice. Which is exactly what has happened over these last two thousand years. People have picked and chosen, like shoppers rummaging through a bargain bin, looking for the Messiah that suits their tastes, looking for the one that they would like to have.

It will always be that way, especially at times when the exodus or the exile seems so burdensome and overbearing. Then we will cry, "Maranatha! Come quickly Lord Jesus and rescue us."

But there is a different way to read these texts. This different way is the way that speaks to people of faith. The Church has arranged the seasons of the year so that the biblical stories will inform our story. The Christian year begins this Sunday with Advent, as a description of the human condition. The lessons are the literature of Israel's waiting, and longing for a Messiah.

At Christmas it is announced that the Messiah has come. Only he has come unexpectedly. Not as anybody expected, not in that day. That story of Christmas is told in the spirit in which he came. It is told quietly, humbly, mysteriously and ineffably. That is why this story is told best on Christmas Eve, when all is cold and dark, and we light candles and sing, "Silent Night, Holy Night."

Christmas announces that the one who is to come and save us has come. "For unto us a child is given." Only he did not bring the Kingdom in its fullness, but he brought it as a seed. That is what he taught us. He said the Kingdom is here as a seed, and it will grow. The Kingdom is here for those who have eyes to see. The Kingdom is here as a new promise, a new covenant is the word he used. He said, "I give you my body and blood as a new covenant, a new promise." The promise is, he will always be with us.

The testimony of the Church, for two thousand years, is the Lord is with us, and also with you. We are not alone. Life is still an exodus, from where we are to where we want to be. Or life is like an exile from what we have known. But we are not alone.

Our text concludes with the counsel, "When these things come to pass, stand up and lift up your heads, for your redemption is drawing near." That's been the experience of Christians for all these years. Whether they are in exodus, or in exile, we are not alone.

Our four year old grandson has provided me a wonderful illustration of this. His mother was going to go away for a couple of days. The night before she left, as she was in the two boys' room to hear their prayers, she told them she was going to go away, and asked if in their prayers they would like to ask God to protect her on her journey.

Jesse, the six year old, thought not. But Luke, the four year old, prayed this prayer: "Dear God, if buffaloes or bears, or other mean animals, come near mommy, can you handle it? If you can't, just call on Jesus."

Luke attends a Nazarene preschool. I suspect that is where he got he got that accent. But the words are universally Christian. There is a new covenant now, a new promise, since Christmas, that he will be with us, "Lo, I am with you always till the end of the age."

That's our hope. There is a way of living with that hope. It is found in two words that are always associated with Advent: wait, and watch. Listen to Isaiah,

Those who wait for the Lord for the Lord shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

Jesus told his disciples, "Nobody knows the hour or the day. So watch." Then he told parables of watching to illustrate for us what it looks like to watch. In every one of them people continue to live their daily lives, building houses, investing in the market, raising children, planting gardens, thinking of others, getting outside themselves, all the while, watching, and waiting, for the Son of God to appear.

Someone asked Frank Loesser, the songwriter, how he could think up so many tunes. He said, "The tunes keep popping into my head every day. But, of course, your head has to be arranged to receive them."

That is like the Christian understanding of the coming of the Messiah. The Messiah has come. The Messiah is here. The Lord is with us. But we must prepare our hearts to receive him.

That is what we do in Advent, especially. We wait, and watch.

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Mark Trotter