Welcome on this First Sunday of Advent. Today’s lesson from Luke’s Gospel is a little unsettling. In it Christ seems to be describing the end of the world. Listen to his words: “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken . . .”
That’s vivid imagery. “Signs in the sun, moon and stars . . . nations in anguish at the roaring and tossing of the sea . . . people fainting from terror . . . heavenly bodies shaken . . .” Hollywood would have a great time with special effects to portray that scene. Of course, it is a scene that has been painted from many pulpits as a time of great terror.
You may remember the story of the minister who was describing this final day with great drama. “Thunder will boom,” he cried, “lightning will strike, rivers will overflow, the sky will be in flames! There will be mammoth storms, floods and earthquakes!”
A little girl in the congregation looked up eagerly at her mother. “Mommy?” she whispered, “will I be let out of school that day?”
Such a scene as that pastor was describing is enough to disturb not only a small child but mature adults as well.
It reminds me of the reaction that accompanied a well-known radio broadcast many years ago. Most of you know the one I’m talking about even though you are probably not old enough to have listened to it.
In 1938 Orson Welles broadcast a radio dramatization of H. G. Wells’ story War of the Worlds. This broadcast was intended to sound like a report of an invasion of the Earth by Martians. The broadcast, which was carried all across the U.S., was so realistic that it almost caused a nationwide panic.
Actor John Barrymore was among those convinced that the Martians had landed. He managed to contain his fear until it came to the point at which the invaders were allegedly marching down Madison Avenue. Rushing out to the kennel in which he kept his twenty prized St. Bernards, Barrymore flung open the gate and released the dogs. In great distress he shouted at them, “Fend for yourselves!” (1)
I’m glad he was concerned about his St. Bernards, but I’m sure he felt quite foolish when the truth came out that there was no such invasion. Of course, there have been several instances in history when Christian folks have gotten stirred up by some misled would-be prophet who has convinced them that the end of the world was at hand. Some of these good folks have sold their homes, left their jobs, neglected their responsibilities--all because they believed that the end was at hand.
It’s interesting. Most of us think of Advent as that special season in which the church prepares to celebrate the coming of Christ at Christmas. It is a season of joyous anticipation. But there is a Second Advent in scripture, one that is far more disturbing. It has nothing to do with snowflakes and visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads. Luke describes it in our lesson for the day: “At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory . . .”
That’s a mysterious image: “coming in a cloud with power and great glory . . .” It is intended to be mysterious. Clouds are the biblical symbol of mystery and of the presence of God. “He is coming with the clouds,” says Revelation 1:7.
“Lo, I am coming to you in a thick cloud,” said God to Moses on Mount Sinai.
A cloud symbolizing the divine presence covered the tabernacle in the wilderness according to Exodus 40:34-36.
A cloud shrouded the mercy seat of the Ark of the Covenant, a place where the presence of God dwelt according to Leviticus 16:2.
And a cloud of glory, the very majesty of God, filled the temple of Solomon at its dedication in I Kings 8:10-11.
A more familiar scene takes place in the New Testament. Jesus and three of his disciples are on a mountain where Christ is transfigured. Matthew tells us, “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus. Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters--one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah’”
Then we read, “While he was still speaking, a bright cloud covered them, and a voice from the cloud said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!’” (17:1-9).
When the New Testament says that Jesus is coming in a cloud with power and great glory, it is a powerful symbol of mystery and divinity.
Those are interesting words though for a modern world: “a voice from the cloud said, ‘This is my Son . . .’” We hear much about the cloud nowadays. In today’s world we associate the cloud with our computers. When tech companies say your data is in the cloud, or that you can work in the cloud, it has nothing to do with white fluffy things in the sky. Your computer data isn’t actually in heaven. It’s stored somewhere here on the earth--lots of “somewheres,” actually, all over the world. I’m told that computer companies like Amazon and Google have build a vast network of servers housed in huge warehouses in widely scattered locations--some the size of a football field. That’s where the cloud resides as far as computer users are concerned. Not on Mount Sinai, but anywhere that tech companies can find sufficient power to keep their servers humming. (2)
Somewhere I saw a cartoon of two extraterrestrials--two men from Mars, if you will. One of them was explaining a strange occurrence. He says, “According to this, the planet earth was populated by humans, then in 2012 they all moved to the cloud.” Hmmm . . . interesting.
I know this talk of the cloud can be very confusing to those of you who are not into computers. You’re not alone. According to author Tom Friedman, a 2012 national survey by Wakefield Research . . . found that “most respondents believe the cloud is related to weather . . . For example, 51 percent of respondents, including a majority of Millennials, believe stormy weather can interfere with cloud computing.” (3)
Well, the Cloud techies talk has nothing to do with the weather. It is basically talking about the Internet and where it resides.
The Bible tells us that at the end of time Christ is coming in a cloud, but that doesn’t have any thing to do with computers. When Luke says that Jesus is coming in a cloud with power and great glory, it is the biblical way of saying that at the end of days, Google or Amazon won’t own the cloud. God will control the cloud and all the clouds that ever existed and Christ will reign over all.
This is to say that Christians ought to be excited about the future. According to scripture, all of creation groans, waiting expectantly to see not what Google will do next . . . or Amazon or Apple . . . but what God is going to do next. The future belongs to God.
The people of Israel waited expectantly for the Messiah and the early church waited expectantly for Christ’s return to reign as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. The Christian life is an expectant life. It is a life lived in anticipation that the promises of God will be fulfilled.
Dwight L. Moody used to tell a story about an optimistic and cheerful lady who was, nonetheless, a shut in, bedridden in an attic apartment on the fifth floor of a run-down building. There was no elevator in the building and here she was, lying there alone in a shabby room of this run-down apartment building.
One of her friends came to see her one day and brought with her another friend. The second friend was of a wealthy family. They wanted to cheer up this bedridden lady, but as you are aware sometimes these things work in reverse.
As they entered the building, the wealthy lady was struck by the austere and depressing surroundings. As they mounted the stairs to the second floor, it was almost more than she could handle. “Such a dark and filthy place,” she said to her friend.
Her friend responded, “It’s better higher up!”
They climbed the stairs to the third landing. “It’s even worse here,” she said.
Her friend responded, “It’s better higher up.”
Finally they got to the fifth and final floor and entered the apartment, tiny and run-down, of this dear lady. But the lady’s face was glowing to see her friend and she was radiating with the love of Christ in her heart. The wealthier woman could not ignore the awful surroundings and she said in a sympathetic way, not wanting to be mean, but kindly, “It must be difficult for you living here like this.”
The lady smiled knowingly and said, “Yes, but it’s better higher up.” (4)
That’s the promise that Christians always live by. “It’s better higher up.”
Who knows what grand thing God may be doing at this very hour! No wonder that for over 2000 years people have been trying to read the fig trees, trying to analyze the seasons, trying to see the signs, trying to determine when God’s promises will be fulfilled. It’s a futile effort, to be sure. Jesus says no man knows the hour, no one knows what is in the mind of God, even the angels, but we keep trying.
People are always looking for signs concerning Christ’s return. We do not know when that time will be, but we live in anticipation that God will do a good work, that God fulfills his promises.
We live in anticipation in the second place, because we also know God does not forget His own. Much of the New Testament was written during the time of terrible persecution. The Christians were burned alive in Nero’s gardens and thrown into the gladiator pits. To be a Christian believer was a test of real courage and endurance. Much of the New Testament was written to the believers to say: “Hold on! God has not forgotten us. He will come.”
During this special season of Advent, our Jewish friends will be celebrating Hanukkah. Their celebration is a celebration of lights, like ours. They will be lighting each candle in a menorah, a nine branched candle holder. They will be celebrating an event that took place before Christ.
This event occurred during a time of Roman oppression, when after an impressive fight to recapture the temple at Jerusalem, the Jewish people wanted to relight the menorah at the altar and to keep it going 24 hours a day. They had no candles though. So they used the purest olive oil. Unfortunately, they only had enough oil to last one day. They knew that it takes eight days to prepare more olive oil of that purity. Undaunted, however, they lit the menorah on the first day and filled it with a one day supply of oil. They believed that by faith it would last until some more could be produced. It did! The one day supply burned for eight days. Miraculously, the menorah did not go out.
Hanukkah, for our Jewish friends, is a sign in their history that God does not forget His people.
God’s people have always taken comfort in the knowledge that whenever life grows uncertain, dangerous, or difficult, we can look to the clouds, as it were. He does not forget or forsake us.
Ours is an expectant life, waiting for the promises of God to be fulfilled, remembering that God does not forsake his own. Ours is also an expectant faith for one more reason, and Advent is central to that reason.
Advent reminds us that the victory is already ours. Now you will need to think about this one. Theologians speak of realized eschatology. That is a fancy term that means we can live now in the light of Christ’s final victory, even though that victory is yet to be won. Let me give you an example.
Dan Bauman in his book, Dare to Believe, illustrates how we are to experience tomorrow’s joy today. He explains that at Christmas time as a youth he always did a lot of snooping, trying to find the gift-wrapped presents and figure out what was in them. Some of you have undoubtedly done the same thing when you were young.
One year, he found a package that was easy to identify. The contents were golf clubs. His mother couldn’t put enough wrapping on the clubs to disguise them from her sneaky son. Bowman makes this observation: “When Mom wasn’t around, I would go and feel the package and shake it and pretend I was on the golf course. The point is, I was already enjoying the pleasure of the future event, namely the unveiling. I had my name on it. I knew what it was. Only Christmas would reveal it in its fullness.” (5)
That’s realized eschatology--enjoying the wonder and the majesty of the victory, even though it is yet to be accomplished.
We live in a God-invaded world. Even though the final victory has yet to be won, we live in anticipation and assurance.
So, Advent is here. Let the watch begin. Bishop William H. Willimon says he once read in the newspaper of a woman--he thinks she lived in Louisiana--who had raised about a dozen foster children despite her meager income as a domestic worker. Why did she do it? She replied, “I saw a new world a-comin.” (6)
I hope you have that kind of expectancy in your life. Jesus said, “At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory . . .”
It won’t be Google’s cloud or Amazon’s cloud. It will be God’s cloud and everything that is bad about this world will be swept away and only God’s love and mercy will be left, and the children of God will have every tear wiped away and joy will reign over all.
1. Clifton Fadiman, Bartlett’s Book of Anecdotes (Little, Brown and Company. Kindle Edition).
3. Friedman, Thomas L., Thank You for Being Late: An Optimist's Guide to Thriving in the Age of Accelerations (Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition).
4. Contributed. Source unknown
5. (Gospel Light Publications, 1977).
6. The Best of Will Willimon: Acting Up in Jesus’ Name (Abingdon Press. Kindle Edition).