"From the Pulpit" - reflections on the weekly texts, from Pastor Greg at Living Lord Lutheran Church in Vero Beach, FL
[Jesus] came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” 2 Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” Mark 13:1-8
"Hold on, Elizabeth...this is the big one!"
Grace and peace to you, from the one who is, and who was, and who is to come.
Remember that famous Redd Foxx line from Sanford and Son, the long running TV sitcom from the early/mid '70's? I loved that show. Foxx played Fred G. Sanford, who, along with his son, Lamont, ran a junk business in a local LA minority community. And can you hear that title song in the background? Remember? That music was created by Quincy Jones, who died just a couple of weeks ago at 90+.
Anyhow, the Foxx character, when he found himself stressed out, or in a jam, what did he do? He put his hands over his (weak) heart, looked up to the skies, and yelled out, "Hold on, Elizabeth, I'm coming to ya. This is the big one!" Remembering his beloved wife (we guess), Foxx thought that this one moment was his end. His tragic end. This was it for him (but it never was really.) The world was about to end, and he's alerting his deceased wife that he's coming to join her.
Our gospel for Sunday is sort of a Redd Foxx moment, when it looks like the world is coming to an end. Jesus, who himself is headed for his execution very soon, is talking in hyperbole to his disciples about endings, using the imagery of wars, and rumors of wars, the temple being destroyed down to the last stone, and so much more. I know that when we read this familiar text, we immediately turn our thoughts to these same images. Nation against nation. Kingdom against kingdom. Earthquakes and famine.
And everytime we hear this, we immediately begin comparing what Jesus was saying to his disciples to our world today. We begin, in our own minds, trying to put together the "signs" today. Yeah, there are wars and rumors of more to come. Check that off the list. And earthquakes (natural disasters). Yeah, check that off the list. Nation against nation. Certainly true now. Check that off the list. And before long, we try to predict when the world as we know it, will be ending. This all is called the "little apocalypse" by the fancy theologians who study this stuff.
But let me give you another way of seeing what Jesus may be saying to his disciples. He's talking about not some future time, but the present in his day. Things are bad, then, and now. He's using examples in his own context, and is showing his disciples in a wider context, that nothing is permanent. Everything, including life itself, is temporary, fleeting. He's even facing his own ending, isn't he? So he knows about endings. He's coming up on his own ending.
But I think the key to all of this "apocalyptic" talk is in the last verse, 8(b), where he says that all of this is just the beginning of the birth pangs. What the heck does he mean here? In my view, what Jesus is saying here is that whatever disaster we may be facing, whatever horrible thing is going on in our lives at the time, whatever crisis we are facing - things that we thought could never, ever happen, these things are not the end. But in fact, are a beginning of something new. Something that we could never have imagined. Something new, born out of something that we may be facing in the present.
We think of things in our own lives that are crumbling before us. For some of us, the recent election might be a sign that our nation is coming to an end as we know it. Mainline denomination churches are closing by the thousands every year. Hurricanes and natural disasters are shaking up our worldview of the weather and climate. We get a pink slip at work. We get a surprise cancer diagnosis. Twin towers in New York are brought down by flying planes. You name your favorite assumption about your world that you thought would never happen. But it does. Our world is fleeting...temporary. Nothing lasts.
But, Jesus is offering us hope in the midst of our angst, our fears, our uncertainty, our long held assumptions about our world that are changing before our eyes. And that is, that something new will be born out of all of this. Churches close, but the proceeds from sale of the property and building will help fund new and future ministries. We are seeing this right here in our own Florida/Bahamas Synod, where a recently closed church, to the tune of over $9m, will fund new ministries in our synod for years to come.
A cancer diagnosis forces someone to see their life in new ways, leading to a change in lifestyle, and a healthier life. A pink slip at work forces one to re-invent themselves to enter or re-enter the marketplace again. I myself had to reimagine my life after I made the decision to leave the golf business that I loved and was really good at. But through it all, it enabled me to be privileged to preside at weddings, at intimate times around funerals, to baptize scores of people new to the faith. And it led me to be your pastor, and to journey with you in our Christian faith together.
And now, Jesus is saying to his disciples in this "sermon" - BTW, the longest of Jesus' sermons in all of Mark's gospel, that through all of the chaos, through all of the horrible stuff that will happen in their lives, through all of their anxiety and uncertainty, something new will emerge, using the imagery of birth pangs. New birth. The destruction or death of one thing, will lead to something new on the other side. Jesus' death, as traumatizing as it was for him, and for those who believed in him, led to the gift of eternal life for them, and for us. Death was not the end, but the beginning of something new. LIfe beyond the grave. And so there was hope even in the midst of what seemed at the time to be catastrophic destruction and loss.
In my message tomorrow, I'll share a story of a woman in a former bible study who actually said that this story, this text from Mark's gospel, was her favorite gospel story. Hmmm...that may sound odd, until you hear her story. In the meantime, let us trust that there is hope, and joy, and new life beyond whatever life may throw at us now. This is the promise of the gospel - that by the death and resurrection of Jesus, we, too, might have newness of life. So maybe in the future, when we hear this story and Jesus' warning of temples crumbling, wars and rumors of wars, famine and earthquakes and such, just beyond all of this is really, really good news.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
"Lord, Listen to Your Children Praying" (we'll be singing this song this Sunday. It's by church musician Ken Medema, who, blind from birth, has become a major inspiration to many churches, including many ELCA congregations, with his amazing music. This video shows him with one church choir performing this amazing song. You MUST watch this - it's amazing. He's amazing! See the following link:
Thankoffering Sunday - Tomorrow is our annual "Thankoffering Sunday" - a Sunday when we celebrate the gifts of women...when we take time to remember the longstanding spiritual practices among women of faith in our lives. Check it all out at the link below:
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