Signs of Hope 11-28-21
Signs of Hope
Jeremiah 33:14-16; Luke 21:25-36
Jeremiah 33:14-16
The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.”
Luke 21:25-36 (The Message)
“It will seem like all hell has broken loose—sun, moon, stars, earth, sea, in an uproar and everyone all over the world in a panic, the wind knocked out of them by the threat of doom, the powers-that-be quaking.“And then—then!—they’ll see the Son of Man welcomed in grand style—a glorious welcome! When all this starts to happen, up on your feet. Stand tall with your heads high. Help is on the way!” He told them a story. “Look at a fig tree. Any tree for that matter. When the leaves begin to show, one look tells you that summer is right around the corner. The same here—when you see these things happen, you know God’s kingdom is about here. Don’t brush this off: I’m not just saying this for some future generation, but for this one, too—these things will happen. Sky and earth will wear out; my words won’t wear out. “But be on your guard. Don’t let the sharp edge of your expectation get dulled by parties and drinking and shopping. Otherwise, that Day is going to take you by complete surprise, spring on you suddenly like a trap, for it’s going to come on everyone, everywhere, at once. So, whatever you do, don’t go to sleep at the switch. Pray constantly that you will have the strength and wits to make it through everything that’s coming and end up on your feet before the Son of Man.”
Prayer – As we begin this new liturgical year, O Sacred One, we see far too many signs that are disconcerting – signs that speak of last things. And in the midst of all that you tell us to stand up tall, to take on a posture of hope that something new is going to happen. May we see, stand tall, and trust that hope and new beginnings are truly the path for tomorrow – amen.
It is unexpected; it seems to me . . . this posture of hope and new beginnings in the face of what we have experienced over the last couple of years. Natural disasters – earthquakes, forest fires, hurricanes, mudslides. People are standing in the streets and marching against racism, sexism, inhospitality, and gun violence. Even the powers of heaven will be shaken, we are told. It is surely not typical or expected, it seems to me, to stand up and raise our heads when calamity is happening all around us.
In fact, we got a glimpse of it the past few weeks – raging forest fires in California and Oregon throughout the fall, more and more shootings, a justice system that is fickle as a north wind. On Wednesday afternoon I helped a 9 year old girl tell her beloved grandfather goodbye as he lay dying in the ICU. In this season of Thanksgiving and Advent with Christmas to soon follow, I must say that I have been shaken by all the signs of imminent collapse of goodness and kindness in the face of all that we have been witnessing in our country and world. It seems darn near impossible to have a posture of hope and new beginnings when I view what is going on around me.
As I pause for a few moments to consider the last 20 months of life in our world I can’t help but wonder if the apocalyptic language Jesus offers us this morning isn’t indeed a sign of the times. Frequently when we hear such language from scriptures we look at the future rather than the present times. What we have encountered in the world of healthcare has been horrific at best and totally unbearable at its worst. None of us can explain how seemingly healthy 20 year olds die from Covid while a 90 year old walks out of the hospital from the same virus. It has been almost totally helpless for our medical providers as they “make this up as we go along” to try and help the thousands we have encountered with Covid. We have learned what may help while also fighting the incredible odds that we are way behind the curve in fighting the virus.
It’s not the kind of disaster Jesus describes in our gospel lesson this morning, but those in healthcare, those in the justice system, those on the borders, the world has been shaken to its roots. Our world has been shaken by senseless gun violence, natural disasters, once thought racism raising its ugly head again, and an undeniable hatred for people seeking to come into our country from foreign lands. For many of us in our country, the individual and collective instinct has not been to stand tall looking for hope, new beginnings, and redemption. No, for many of us, our heads have been bowed in embarrassment, in grief, seeking only to protect ourselves from that which we couldn’t fight or change.
So I find it quite remarkable that the call of our gospel message this morning is to stand tall, expectantly, with our heads raised and our hearts watchful. As people of faith we are called to assume a posture of hope in the face of such despair – but I for one must admit it has been difficult. As I think about it, it strikes me that to do so must be an act of determined will, for it runs contrary to our most basic instincts.
Indeed, it’s hard to comprehend the promise that is meant for us beyond all that is viewed today. It is difficult to believe that there is anything more than what we can now see in our country and world. In fact, I’ve struggled to offer some way in which we can begin to be and do what Jesus calls us to be and do today. How is it that we stand with our heads raised in hope in the face of senseless suffering and despair? I have increasingly been wondering this in recent months and years as I have observed the decline of basic goodness and kindness in our country. I have been wondering in relation to what kind of world are my grandkids growing up in today.
Perhaps this is where it begins. In our walking into our own suffering and the suffering of others. In our willingness to stand up and be seen and heard in a world that seems to be literally shaking all around us. At first, our heads may be bowed as we brace ourselves for the pain, and still, I expect that will not always be true. For as we step into the large and small heartbreaks we live through, we typically encounter Jesus in the eyes and ears and hearts of our fellow sojourners of suffering. For that is where Jesus always is – waiting in the midst of the pain to somehow show us the way to new hope and new joy and new life – new beginnings.
So as I look around our current context I have watched our young people stand up, taking a stand against senseless gun violence, speaking out that they no longer want to be afraid of showing up at school. I have seen these same young people get involved socially and politically for the first time and I have hope. I see countless people speaking out against the inexcusable separation of children and their parents at the border and the military standing guard at the border. I see people working desperately to aid firefighters on the Pacific Coast as they fought raging fires for several weeks. I see a number of women running for political office and winning, perhaps changing the context of our political landscape towards a new direction of hope for each and every human being in our country. I see a renewed energy for social justice, care for the outcasts, and perhaps a more welcoming attitude for those previously excluded.
I have also seen this church embrace a number of causes that speak of hope and new beginnings. This church has been feeding the hungry, has welcomed a small community of learning challenged young people to have a special place to be educated, has come back into the sanctuary for worship and have found ways to worship apart through Zoom. It has not been easy for any congregation to survive the last nearly two years, but we have faced the challenges of Covid with open eyes, have been steadfast in staying together and here we are today, not on the other side but still together, working together, for a brighter future in our community.
We look over the horizon toward the future and what do we see? Jesus Christ, the Human One, reigning supreme. What we see on high is not simply an end; it is also a beginning. It is not just death but also birth. Tomorrow means that Jesus Christ is closer to us than he is today. The present is that time when we are being brought closer to our true destination where God will be all in all. Christians can be honest, even pessimistic about the prospects for our world because, though our world ends, God’s world is just beginning.
Newness can’t come without some relinquishment and dismantling of the old. Sorry if your view of God is that God starts everything off in creation, sets up a clockwork world and then retires from the scene. Jesus says that God is actively, resourcefully at work, here, now, having God ways with the world, bringing all things, including us, closer to God.
That’s what we Christians have to say to an often anxious, fearful, unsteady world about tomorrow. Jesus says that this time, the present, our time that seems at times so scary and chaotic, is a time for “testimony.” Today is a time for us all to lift up our heads high and tell the world a story that it cannot know if we don’t tell it, namely, that, by the grace of God, the worst of times can be the best of times, that an apocalyptic ending is also a redemptive beginning.
We ought not be too tied to this world, as it is. For this world, as it is, is not fully what God intends. There are wars and rumors of war, sadness, heartache, and tragedy. We’ve made a mess of things, fouled our world, despoiled our earth. In our better moments, we must honestly admit that matters are out of our control, that the world’s large problems are beyond our ability to fix.
So we look toward tomorrow. We strain toward the future. What will tomorrow bring? Will tomorrow be death or life? Apocalyptic destruction or graceful redemption? We look and see, the face, the face of the one who came to save us, who constantly forgave us, and always loved us. We see the one who relentlessly, tirelessly turned toward us in the past, Jesus. We see the face of the one who, often unknown to us and behind the scenes, is working to draw us closer to himself.
We look up amid the seemingly chaotic, dangerous, difficult times in which we live and see the face, not of a foe, but of a friend. We see Jesus beckoning us toward himself. That’s why we can face tomorrow, not knowing exactly what we face tomorrow, not knowing exactly what is ahead, not knowing whatever joy or pain lies before us, but knowing who loves us throughout every single moment. As is sometimes said, we Christians don’t know what the future holds, but we do know who holds the future.
This church has experienced some of the suffering and hardships that Jesus speaks of metaphorically in our passage – changing of pastors, loss of friends and members, people coming and going, budget shortcomings – and it remains standing tall with hope, with courage, with the promise of new beginnings a certainty. As the days and weeks of my time here continue, I have seen promising signs of hope and new beginnings blossom. I have seen renewed energy and I have a posture of hope as we begin a new church year, as we look to the new year filled with challenges but also with hope. And I believe with all of my heart that God is smiling and nodding God’s head when the Sacred One gazes upon this steadfast congregation and considers new beginnings with hope and redemption – thanks be to God – amen.