Monday, December 3, 2012

First Sunday of Advent: Looking Back for Hope


Jeremiah 33:14-16
Psalm 25:1-9
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
Luke 21:25-36

Jesus in Luke presents us with some pretty disturbing, even frightening, images of a time yet to come: “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.  People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” (Luke 21:25-26)  And while I mentioned last week that Jesus’ way of things was not necessarily the way of conventional apocalyptic – end time – theology, it was in its context that he lived and in which the Gospels were written.  He would have been – and the Gospels certainly were – influenced by it.  Yet the apocalyptic language and images on the lips of Jesus in the Gospels seem to point not so much to the end, but rather seem to talk about how to live until the end and how to trust in God’s promises, how to live in hope.  As you may remember, I  alluded last week to the political and social conditions under which Jesus lived, and under which the Gospels were written.  It was a time of crisis, and since from about the 2nd century BC the increasingly popular theological response to crisis had been apocalypticism – the belief that God would eventually directly intervene in human affairs to punish the “wicked” – for wicked read “our enemies” – and reward the “just”, that is, us  For some, what was called for until that “terrible day” was a complete separation from the world, from the wicked and unclean.  Thanks to the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, we know a good deal about one such group, the Essenes.  This Jewish sect retreated into the wilderness of Qumran, living in caves and adhering to a strict rule of prayer and purity in preparation for God’s vindication.  John the Baptist is believed by some to have been influenced by their theology and practices. 

However, the picture presented of Jesus’ message in the Gospel is different, more nuanced; and certainly by the time the Gospels were being written Christians were already learning that the apocalyptic perspective was not helpful if they were going to learn to live well until Jesus’ return – which appeared hardly imminent; and if they were going to make manifest the Good News of the kingdom right here and right now.  Let’s face it, the idea that we are just waiting around until God intervenes to dispense punishments and rewards is not the most exciting or attractive of messages.  There had to be something different, something more helpful to say.  There had to be a more positive way to live in the world;  and so our early Christian ancestors looked back to the prophetic traditions of Israel in order inform their thinking, to find inspiration and insight.  Look for a moment at today’s passage from the prophet Jeremiah.  Certainly there is talk of God’s justice and righteousness, but how gently it is announced: “The days are surely coming…when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah.” (Jeremiah 33:14)  It is in the language of covenant.  Equally, the day’s eventual coming is described in the subtle imagery of natural growth, imagery which Jesus himself considerably made use of: “In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David.” (Jeremiah 33:15)  When the prophets do speak of God’s judgment and anger, it is the never directed to the enemies of the Jewish people as in the apocalyptic tradition, but to the Jewish people themselves for abandoning the covenant, particularly the covenant call to care for the poor and the stranger.  The Gospels and the Jesus tradition, hearken back to the witness of Israel’s ancient prophets in order to discern into the future the reality of Jesus and of the kingdom.  They looked back in order to learn how to live now, how to live until all things are resolved in God’s time and according to God’s righteousness.

Central to this kind of living is hope, the sort of hope which, even when things may seem bleak, while conditions may appear grim, still not only points us to the truth of God’s sustaining spirit and ultimate revelation, but also teaches us and enables us to live in and through the difficulties of our times,  and do so without retreating from the world but instead engaging more fully with it.  So Jesus says to his followers: “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap.” (Luke 21:34-35a)  Dissipation, drunkeness, constant worry – all these are symptoms of hopelessnes.  We know that as we see the hopelessness among the poorest and most disadvantaged in our towns and cities, as we see it among many younger people.  The difficulties of life and the sometimes frightening events of our day, can make us lose hope.  They can leave people confused about the present, and feeling bleak about the future.  They can drive us to retreat from the world, or to seek extreme and violent solutions to the world’s problems and injustices.  It was so in Jesus’ day, and seems particularly so in our own.  Living in hope, however, holds out to the world the possibility that things are not exactly as they seem, and that we make that possibility manifest by our lives.  We light a candle in the dark, or feed people in the midst of hunger, or volunteer to help in response to a natural disaster or to human tragedy.  In the midst of what seems unconquerable evil and dis-order, we witness to hope by – as Paul counsels the Thessalonians – increasing and abounding “in love for one another and for all” in order that our hearts may be strengthened in holiness and that we may be “blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.” (cf. 1 Thessalonians 3:12-13)  We grow in love and engage in the world in order that the hope inherent in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus – and which is already in us – be more fully revealed in the world by our own lives. 

As we begin the season of Advent, we know that it is fundamentally a season of hope – hope that light will overtake darkness, hope that God is and will continue to make all things new, hope that the child born in the stable will be born in us.  In midst of crisis and difficult circumstances the reponse of Jesus and of the early Church was also hope.  Hope informed by their looking back to the prophets, looking back beyond the contemporary climate of apocalypticism to an older tradition of covenant and faithfulness expressed in care for the destitute and in fellowship beyond the narrow bounds of one’s immediate community.  Looking at the signs of the times, it is easy to give up without glimpsing anything beyond them.  But the Advent invitation is to look back and find our lives in the great drama of God’s call and providential care, and to continue to hope.  In a recent film Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, the young and inexperienced hotel owner is trying make a go of the old family business.  Despite his lack of a real business background and the dilapitated state of the building, he remains cheerfully hopeful, saying to one of the patrons “It’ll be alright in the end; and if it’s not alright it is not yet the end.”  That certainly is Christian hope, the sort of hope that enables us to look forward confidentally as we allow ourselves to be inspired and molded by our communal history and tradition.  The end may surely be coming, but it is not here yet, and until then we continue to do and strive in the hope promised to us; we continue to live according to the covenant made long ago and proclaimed and lived anew in Jesus.  It is a hope founded in the past, refreshed anew daily in the preset, and that carries us into the future to engage with the world, while at the same time being instruments of its transformation as we do await the “coming of the our Lord Jesus with his saints.” (1 Thessalonians 3:13)

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