Mark 13:24-37
December 3, 2023
Babysitting was my primary source of
income when I was a young teenager. Until I was old enough for parttime jobs, I
babysat. I babysat on and off all the way through seminary. I love kids and I
had no money, so babysitting was the way to bring my love for kids and my need
for cash together.
When I began to babysit, my mom
taught me early on that I always needed to pick up before the parents came
home. I didn’t have to clean their house for them, but if the kids had eaten
something I needed to gather all the dishes and get them to the kitchen; load
the dishwasher if that was an option, but at least get them collected and in
the sink. After I put the kids to bed, I needed to pick up whatever toys or
books might be scattered around. I took my mom seriously and I always made sure
to do that. I told Phoebe the same thing when she started babysitting. Parents
appreciate coming home to a picked up house.
Because I was never exactly sure
when parents would arrive back home, I worked to keep things cleaned up as I
went. I didn’t wait until a few minutes before I thought the parents might
arrive to start cleaning. I did it right away. I didn’t want to be caught
asleep on the sofa with toys and dishes scattered all around me. When the
parents came home, I wanted a neat house to be the first thing they saw.
Waiting for parents to arrive at the
end of a babysitting gig is not quite the same thing as what Mark is describing
in these verses from chapter 13, but you get the idea. In the last paragraph of
our reading, Jesus tells about a man who goes on a journey and leaves his
servants in charge of their work and tells the doorkeeper to be on watch for
his return. You don’t know when the man is going to return so keep awake, be
ready, keep awake. Don’t drift off. Don’t relax your stance. The man of the
house could return at any moment. Keep awake.
Warnings to stay awake. Stars
falling. A darkened sun and moon. Heavenly powers shaken up. Not exactly images we normally picture at the
beginning of Advent. There’s no babe lying in a manger for Mark. No cattle lowing,
no shepherds being led to the child by a host of heavenly messengers.
Instead on this first Sunday of
Advent, we have what is known by Biblical scholars as Mark’s little apocalypse.
This chapter begins with Jesus’ predictions about the destruction of the
temple. Then Jesus and a few of the disciples – Peter, James, John and Andrew –
retreat to the
The disciples question Jesus.
“Tell us, when will this be;
and what will be the signs that all these things are about to be accomplished?”
Jesus tells them about many
signs. False prophets and false messiahs. Beware those who come in his name,
making claims in his name, yet in reality lead the faithful astray. Wars,
nation rising up against nation. Earthquakes, famines, natural disasters. Don’t be alarmed, these are the beginning of
the birth pangs.
There will be suffering, Jesus
warns them. The disciples will be forced to testify to the good news in front
of councils and governments. But don’t worry, he reassures them, the Holy
Spirit will speak through them. And again, there will be false prophets and
false messiahs pointing the people in the wrong direction. Leading the elect
astray. So, wake up! Stay awake!
Then we come to our verses.
When the end times truly arrive, cosmic signs will fill the sky. Stars, sun,
moon. Then Jesus, the Son of Man, will come surrounded by clouds in his power
and glory. Angels will be sent to bring the elect from every corner of heaven
and earth. All this will happen in God’s time. Not even the angels or the Son
himself know when the end will come.
Only God the father, and he is not telling. So, stay awake! Remain on
watch, wait open-eyed for the master’s return. Because no one knows when he
will come.
Apocalyptic literature and
predictions about the end times, such as what is found in Daniel, the book of
Revelation and this chapter in Mark, usually come out of a community that is
oppressed and under siege by political, religious, or military leaders. The
situation in the community seems so utterly dire and desperate that their only
hope is in divine intervention. No mortal means can end their suffering. Only
action from God and God alone. Then their suffering will be justified. A new
world will be issued in.
The word in Greek that gives us
our word Apocalypse does not refer to the end of the world. When Jesus
speaks about end times, he is not talking about the earth blowing up on God’s
orders with nothing remaining. Apocalypse means an unveiling, a revealing. The
end times that Jesus refers to are the times when God will be fully revealed,
completely unveiled. They will see God. And when you are living in a crisis
moment, when you are living with catastrophe all around you, what more do you
want than to see God; to see God revealed and unveiled? What more do we want
than to know that God is right here with us? Look, there is God! Can we see
God? Can we finally see Him?
Can we finally see God?
I admit that I’m having a hard time
with seeing God lately. I know that may shock some folks, and it certainly says
more about my struggling faith than it does about God. I know that God is with
us. I just can’t see God with us these days. I can’t see God
because catastrophe and chaos feels very near, very close at hand.
The war in Ukraine goes on and on.
The war between Israel and Hamas is brutal, and not only do we read or hear
about its brutality, but we can also see it through live news coverage. We can
hear the anguished voices of children who have lost their parents and parents
who have lost their children. The news here at home isn’t much better. There is
violence and anguish and sometimes it all gets to be too much. When I’m
listening to the news in my car, I reach a point where I can’t listen anymore.
I turn off the news and I listen to one of my audiobooks or music or nothing at
all. And at those moments, other moments too, but especially those moments when
I hear and feel the anguish of the world, I long to see God. I long for God to
be revealed, to be unveiled. I long to see God at last.
Jesus begins our passage by saying,
“But in those days, after that suffering.” But in these days, the suffering is current
and real. It’s happening right now. It hurts to feel this suffering, and you
may be feeling that hurt too, and if you are, you probably wish that you could
come to church and just sing Christmas carols and admire the decorations in the
sanctuary and look forward to the coming of a little baby into the world.
Instead you get a little apocalypse and talk about the end times.
But remember that the apocalyptic
writings that we have in our scriptures came out of communities who were being
persecuted, oppressed, who were living in chaos and with catastrophe close at
hand. They longed to see God’s revelation. They longed to see God revealed at
last. It’s what gave them hope. To look for the revealing of God in their midst
kept their hope alive. And isn’t hope what we need as well? This is the first
Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of this season when Hope is the key word, it is the
theme. Hope.
And our Hope, our hope that comes
from faith, is not a blind hope. It isn’t a fingers crossed and a wishful
thinking kind of hope. Our Hope with a capital H is hope that names the reality
in which we live. It names that which is hard and scary and disturbing. In
fact, if we can’t name it here, in this sacred space, in this sacred moment,
where can we name it? No, with our Hope we name the chaos in which we live. We
name the catastrophe that is all around us, and then we proclaim Hope even
more. As long as we are living, as long as we are breathing and moving and in
this world God has given us, we have reason to Hope. We have reason to Hope
because in spite of appearances there is good and there is love. We have reason
to Hope because we have been given hands and hearts and minds and bodies to do
the work of God in the world – in the larger world and in our corner of it. We
have reason to Hope because we have the ability and the responsibility to act,
to do, to create, to live in such a way that our Hope becomes the Hope for
others.
We have reason to Hope because in
the growing darkness the light from one candle can make all the difference. We
have reason to Hope because in the growing darkness, we are finally able to see
the stars. Advent is a season of expectation, of waiting, of hoping, and
trusting that our Hope, our constant and abiding Hope will be fulfilled in the
coming of Christ into our world. As a babe. As a man. As God revealed. So I say
to you and I say to myself, keep watch. Keep awake. Keep watch. Keep awake. Our
Hope is at hand.
Let all of God’s children say,
“Alleluia.”
Amen.
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