Sermon – Guess When?
Isaiah 64:1-9; Mark 13:24-37
Farmville Presbyterian Church
December 3, 2023
– Remembering the Return of Christ
The alternative rock group REM back in my day had a popular song entitled “It’s the End of the World as We Know It.” The rest of the line in the song is the hook, “And I feel fine.” Do you feel fine? Apparently, REM was thinking the late 80s and early 90s were a mess. We might feel a little messier today, and no, I don’t think we necessarily feel fine. Instead, there are all kinds of things that people might do to try to avoid the craziness of the world out there. Some reinvent themselves. Some self-medicate. Some build disaster bunkers. Some move to faraway places. Some stock up on guns. Some turn to religious experiences. Some zone out in the world of entertainment. And if things become especially bleak, you can always turn to the Hallmark channel. A couple of weeks ago, I was visiting a church member who always watches golf or tennis like gospel. That time I walked in I was shocked to see the Hallmark channel with one of its “hallmark” holiday movies. This was completely unexpected. “How could this be,” I asked? “There’s nothing on ESPN,” came the reply. Well, if the hard work of sports is missing, there is always the hard work of heartfelt, sappy made-for-tv-movies. Whatever your pleasure, and if that is your go-to help, more power to you. As the world goes to heck in a handbasket, though, there is one thing that I doubt any of you will be rushing to embrace – a bowl.
Here [present my bowl] we have a regular, simple metal bowl, but I’m positive you have bowls at home of every kind of material: ceramic, woven, wooden, glass, plastic, etc. We have bowls because they are very handy for all kinds of household purposes. It might surprise you to know, however, that God has a big bowl, too – the biggest bowl, of course. In the beginning moves of creation itself, we have Genesis 1:6 which says, “And God said, ‘Let there be a dome in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.’” This image is not the separation of oceans from dry land. That is verse 9. This verse of separating waters from waters is a strange passage that makes no sense to people who understand that there is nothing between us and outer space except for air, our atmosphere. In the ancient world, though, it was commonly accepted that there was a giant dome spanning the sky, separating the world from the heavens. This barrier holding back celestial waters would be opened a little when it rained. The point is that this notion of a giant dome or upside-down bowl was one that persisted for many, many years until the Apollo missions broke through the bowl.
Well, that is a silly thing to say, but if there really were a bowl or barrier or dome holding back the great expanse of heavens and the waters above, you might imagine how devastating it might be to shatter this barrier. Just the thought is shocking to imagine such a cataclysm – something like another worldwide flood event. I need for you to appreciate just how terrible such a notion would have seemed. And yet, Isaiah is calling for this very thing – not a flood but something worse.
Rip open the bowl. Tear it apart and come down in all of the fury and divine presence that that would be. That’s Isaiah’s prayer and plea. Mountains would be shaking. The earth would be in turmoil like a rolling boil or a wildfire for God to burst through the heavens and essentially crash to earth in judgment. It makes you wonder just how bad things would have to be to pray fervently and earnestly for such a judgment. None of us has known that kind of desperation ourselves, not yet.
The people of Israel saw a different picture. Their beloved Jerusalem had been leveled, the Temple demolished, the people decimated and enslaved some 600 years before Jesus. The nation was destroyed. Every way of life that they had was gone except for the one thing that no one can steal. You can lose your job, your finances, your home, your land, your relationships and loved ones, even your very identity can be stolen or your life itself, but what cannot be taken from you is your faith. In righteous anguish, the people of God cried to God. Their desperation for help sounds painful if we allow ourselves to hear their prayer. It is impossible for us to empathize with a people that has lost everything. We have not suffered as they.
It is just as difficult to imagine how Jesus must have been feeling in the last few days of his life as he was staring directly into his death. He would also lose everything. Death can certainly feel that way: cut off from life, love, possessions, dreams, and hopes. As Jesus hung on the cross a few days after this passage from Mark, he cried out the words of Psalm 22 asking God why he was forsaken. Death felt like it was his end.
Now, despite this horrible finality looming just hours away, this same Jesus is giving OTHERS an even greater warning of that was to come, something they will deeply regret. Judgment and devastation was coming. On the one hand, the Romans did crush the nation just a few decades after Jesus’ words, but also coming was the Son of Man who would bring God’s judgment.
The Jews in Isaiah’s day were desperately seeking the coming of God. The Jews in Jesus’ day were also looking for the Son of Man. As things in the world were becoming desperate, they needed to find something in which to place their faith. They needed something in which to believe. They needed something to be their hope.
I struggle a little with the season of advent. Every year, we come back to this time of waiting for God to do something. Every year, we return to this hope and promise of God’s redeeming and saving work. Every year, the world seems to get harder and colder and darker. Is our response really to simply light a few candles, sing a few songs, have a few gatherings, and give a few presents. Jesus himself shatters complacency in that the Son of Man, an image for himself, would return in their lifetimes. Yes, their nation was devastated like in in the days of Isaiah in their lifetimes. The violence and destruction was carried out by the Romans about 30 some years after Jesus’ death. Just a few decades after that, Israel ceased to exist as a place on the face of the earth until after WW2. That happened, but Jesus as the Son of Man has not actually returned to set all things straight, to redeem the world, and to finalize God’s plan of a new creation. We have gotten tired of waiting. The world has gotten tired of waiting. Even though Advent is supposed to be about looking for this majestic return of Christ, we have settled for the coming of baby Jesus. It is a lot easier to remember something that has already happened than to dream of what might come.
This is not good enough, however. Clearly, we have not reached the point when we truly want Jesus to return. Clearly, the church is comfortable in our world-inspired version of Christianity. Clearly, we are cozy and don’t want to rock the boat and are fine as long as things do not become too demanding.
That is why the church has become irrelevant for so many. We have forgotten our passion for a better world, if we ever had one. We have forgotten that Jesus, the Son of Man, is coming any moment to finish what he started. The ocean of need that is out there is too much to confront by our own power, so we would rather Jesus delay until we have had our time.
Isn’t this always what the world does? The budget crisis, environmental crisis, political crisis, and every other crisis – leave it alone for someone else to deal with. Kick it down the road until they run out of road. The problem with this, though, is that there are plenty of people who already see their road getting very short. One of the great needs for mission is to come face to face with those who need God’s helping hand, God’s strong presence, God’s righteousness. No matter how bad you can imagine it is in some places, it is often actually worse. People are afraid, corruption is rampant, violence is common, poverty is pervasive, hunger is real, illness is burning, and leaders are powerless to effect good, lasting change.
You may remember that earlier this year I travelled to Guatemala on a presbytery mission trip. It is not even as bad as it is in some places, but so much is worse there with the oppression of children, women, and the Mayans people. A few very wealthy families control everything and deny the people a real future. When they finally had a shot at having a president looking to reform this year, the system has dug in and is trying every trick to prevent the lawfully elected president from taking power. Evil has a way of trying to hold sway with lies and threats. Please, please continue to remember our sisters and brothers in Guatemala. They are family, too.
Family is where we all end up. In Isaiah’s passage, notice the hope that they have in God’s help comes from one fact – we are your children. Because God is our father, we will have that help. The father here, even though he might get upset with us, will never leave us to ruin. There is always hope and salvation and forgiveness, but we need it soon. That is their situation. That is the situation of the Jews in Jesus’ day. Is that the situation today? Can we look for God’s help in this day? Can we make our prayer, “Come Lord Jesus, come?” If we open our eyes in love and faith, we can. The world needs us. The world needs the help of our Lord. To God be the glory. Amen.