2nd Sunday before Advent, 17th Νοvember 2019 – Luke 21: 5 -19

Megan Maciver,  St Paul’s Athens

 

In the name of our loving, liberating, and life-giving God.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ

In today’s gospel, Jesus, the Prince of Peace, speaks of terrifying times. He tells us about world wars, famines, plagues and – maybe worst of all – being betrayed, and handed over to persecution and death, by those closest to you, by those you love.
When we meet Jesus today, Jesus is in Jerusalem and the Passover is near. Every day he is teaching at the temple.  Just a few verses before this, he told us a story about the landowner who sent his beloved son to collect the fruit of the vineyard, only to be murdered by the wicked tenants. There are several recent mentions of all “stones being thrown down.”  Tones of
destruction and betrayal; now, there are no more stories of wedding feasts or walking on water.  And we know that these stories are some of the last he tells his disciples on earth. And to me, the stakes of these parables seem higher.

When I read today’s gospel, at first I kept struggling with how our Prince of Peace could allow these terrible things, these famines and pestilences, and terrors, to happen… Especially to his followers. Indeed many of Jesus’ disciples died horrible deaths: they were crucified, stabbed, and burnt to death; many of them preaching the good news until their last breath.  Why, we ask God, do you allow this terrible suffering, especially for those who love you; who you love? Why these times of terror and pain?

I am sure that all of us sitting here today have, at some point, posed some version of that question to God.  I will certainly not try to answer it.

But I will share with you a passage written by the mystic Sister Julian of Norwich, that helped me turn away from the terror, and turn towards the Life I see hidden at the heart of this gospel reading. She writes:

“If there is anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe, I know nothing of

it, for it was not shown to me.

But this was shown :

that in falling and rising again we are always kept in that same precious love .”

I believe that to read today’s gospel and to think that it is about the apocalypse- that it is about plagues and earthquakes and suffering and death – is like reading the Easter story and thinking it is about the tomb.

I believe that today Jesus is telling us what we know in our bones: here on earth there is suffering. And if you live The Way of nonviolence and love and peace, in other words, “because of my name,” you will suffer for it, because the world hates it, because the world does not know the one who sent it. And, the world will abandon you. You will have pain on a planetary scale. The temple – even the temple you would build to God’s glory- will seem to be reduced to nothing one day. But – no matter what happens, I always keep you in that same precious love.

Here, when we turn away from the terror, we see what Jesus says to us. He says, in that moment of great persecution and terror, “I will give you wisdom ” that none of your enemies can contradict. Jesus says to us, I am so near to you in that moment of terror, that I will speak through your very mouth. I will animate your speech.  Jesus says to us, decide now to trust me. Decide now not to worry what you will do when the time comes, because I will be right there with you.  He says to us, I am on your side in the midst of all of this- I am here loving you, helping you, supporting you, so that not one hair on your head- in other words, not even the smallest, most minute part of what makes you essentially you – will be harmed.

And, in the final line of this gospel, he says our greatest comfort. For he sees what we cannot; and he alone knows what happens after every stone has been torn down.  He says to us: by your patient endurance- hypomonie – you will gain your souls. By your faith and by my grace, you will be victorious over the forces of death and destruction that I am telling you about.

And it gets better. Because we know what comes next in the story. We know that Jesus did not just talk about this. We know that Jesus, God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God, our redeemer, actually lives out a version of what he’s telling us about.  The next thing that happens is the heartbreaking thing he foretold. Jesus himself is betrayed by those close to him; HE himself is handed over to the ruler, Pontius Pilate, HE testifies to the greatness of God. And then He himself, True God from True God, dies. He is hated and he is put to death, “because of” his name, because of the name of love.

So I believe that the real subject of today’s gospel is not the prisons and earthquakes, it is not the rulers who pervert justice.

The subject of today’s gospel – the subject of every gospel- is the revelation of Jesus’  love for us, his presence WITH US, even in the midst of the end of the world. It is his message – in word and in deed – that we are always being kept in that same precious love, even when we cannot understand it, and even at moments of our greatest suffering.

I have spent a lot of time thinking and meditating about the way that, the highlight of our faith calendar is The Three Holy Days: Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday.  And how in this central story we tell as Christians, on one of the nights, our God dies between two criminals, on a cross outside of town. And all day the following day and all night the following night, in the chronological centre of our holiest story, our God is in the grave – and the women are weeping.  And I confess to you today that there are days when it feels like these days and nights are the only thing I know about that story.

But this is not what our faith is about.

Our faith is about the empty tomb. Our faith is about knowing in our bones that the love and goodness that we, in our sin, tried to kill would not – and could not- remain dead. Our faith is about somehow trusting the mystery that the Christ in the tomb is still the Christ. Our faith is about that blessed morning in the garden when Jesus stands risen and resurrected and calls us by our name.

—

And we can forget that when things are darkest in our lives. When we watch the ones we love suffer, when we see evil people flourishing, when the things we try to do or to build – are destroyed. And Jesus knows that. He knows we will feel that way. That is why the words he speaks to us in the midst of his description of the destruction that’s to come are words of comfort. Everything he says is a form of the first thing he says to his disciples when he is risen: “Peace be with you.”  I believe he is saying to us: I, your God, am on the side of my people. I, your God, will speak FOR YOU, against your enemies. Trust me. And listen to what I say but – most of all behold what I do: I suffer these things myself; I suffer these things with you. I suffer these things FOR YOU. And at the end of it all, you will gain your life in me.

A bit later on in this same chapter, Luke 21, Jesus says to us: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

We know that the name of Jesus always and forever, from age to age, refers to the same unnamable, timeless, changeless thing: the beginning and the ending: the logos, the blueprint, of infinite love and compassion and the forces and powers of justice and mercy that are going somewhere very good.  And so, when we do work “because of [his] name” or build or do anything “because of his name,” none of that will perish. It can’t. It is bound up with, and it is ONE with- and glorifies – the eternal dominion of Jesus’ perfect love, which endures forever, and which no earthquake or famine or pestilence can destroy. This is also Paul’s message to us today, when he urges us to “not be weary in doing what is right”, or, “never tire of doing good works .” Paul is telling us to take heart, and work “because of Jesus’ name,” for the sake of justice and peace and love, even in the face of the end of the world. No good work is ever wasted, and no good work is unseen by God because every good work glorifies him, in a way that touches infinity.  Our good works are our “opportunity to testify” to the goodness of God in the face of the end of the world.

And finally, I will leave you with some more of Sister Julian’s words:

“…deeds are done which appear so evil to us and people suffer such terrible evils that it does not seem as though any good will ever come of them; and we consider this, sorrowing and grieving over it so that we cannot find peace in the blessed contemplation of God as we should do; and this is why: our reasoning powers are so blind now, so humble and so simple, that we cannot know the high, marvelous wisdom, the might and the goodness of the Holy Trinity.”

And this is what he means when he says, ‘You shall see for yourself that all manner of things shall be well’, as if he said, ‘Pay attention to this now, faithfully and confidently, and at the end of time you will truly see it in the fullness of joy .”

Amen