Continuing Thoughts on Luke -- Luke 21

Three years ago, I started writing my First Thoughts about the texts for the coming Sunday of Year C. They weren’t always complete thoughts; and they usually wouldn’t show up in the sermon; they were simply “first thoughts”.

Luke 21

Okay, I know that I am dating myself with this, but, with the first Sunday of Advent upon us, I can’t help but think of the old Roger Miller song, If You Want Me To, which begins “Thunder rollin', lightnin' flashin', / But right through the middle of it I go dashin'.”

As we celebrate our liturgical new year, we will hear variations on the theme of what appears to be earth-ending events: signs in the sky and tsunamis with great distress among the nations. This distress will create great fear, to the point of fainting or withdrawing from the concerns of the world.

There are those who will point to these words and say, “The world is coming to an end.”, but every year, whether it’s the words of Matthew, Mark, or Luke, the gospels agree that, on this first Sunday of Advent, it is not the end of the world, but the beginning of something new.

This year we hear Luke go so far as to say, “When these things begin to happen, stand up and raise your heads because your redemption is drawing near.” (NRSV) Dash into the storm. In the midst of the fearmongering that is so prevalent in our world today, Luke tells us that this is not the time to turtle up. This is not the time to withdraw from the world. This is the time to take a posture of defiance: Stand up and be counted—Dash into the storm.

There is a tendency, in this time of chaos and confusion, to say, “Jesus is coming. Look busy.” But Luke’s Gospel in particular calls us to bear witness to who this Jesus is.

In the First Testament, the first command to the prophets is to stand up. Stand up in the gates of the city (the place of judgment). Stand up and go! Jonah is told to go to the city of Nineveh, the land of his enemies. Elijah is told to go to Zarephath, a Canaanite town. In many other ways, the prophets are told to go to God’s people to tell them of God’s judgment and constancy—Dash into the storm.

In these texts we are told that the world is indeed a dangerous and scary place, but this does not mean that we are given the privilege of being able to ignore the violence and pain of our world. We are told to take a stand, lift our heads, and confront the powers of the world—Dash into the storm.

In the Baptism service, we publicly renounce the devil and the powers that defy God. We renounce the powers of the world that rebel against God. We renounce the powers that seduce and draw us away from God. In other words, we stand in defiance of those things that breed fear. We stand in defiance of the hate-mongering. We stand in defiance of those who do not recognize and lift up the value of all of God’s people. We defy the powers and structures that perpetuate prejudice and discrimination. We dash into the storm.

Yes, we even denounce racist parades that want to continue celebrating Hitler’s antisemitic genocidal regime making the Nazi salute because to say nothing means that we tacitly support the slaughter of 6,000,000 Jewish men, women, and children, and the more than 5,000,000 others whom the Third Reich thought to be undesirables. To say nothing means that we do not regret the chattel slavery and lynchings within the United States. To say nothing means that we do not regret the genocidal practices that continue to be perpetrated on our First Nation peoples. To say nothing means that we support telling those who come to our borders for asylum and a “better way of life”, “You need not apply”. To say nothing means that we believe that the LGBTQIA+ community is an abomination. To say nothing means that we believe that voting rights are not equal and that the disabled, Black, Latino, Native American, and others should not have an equal voice in our political future. To say nothing means we take shelter and hide from the storm. Take heed, there are signs along God’s Way to direct and lead us.

At Christmas, we will hear and read that Jesus is first recognized by the lowliest of his world, the shepherds. Later we will watch the child challenge the priest and teachers of his time concerning God’s relationship with creation. We will witness Jesus’ family fleeing to another country for asylum. We will bear witness to and celebrate Jesus’ walking among the most undesirable of his time. We will witness all these events with particular compassion, and yet, in many cases we will remain silent about events today. We will continue to participate in politics and institutions of our day that work to keep the people Jesus lived with and loved identified as undesirable and unfit to be our neighbors.

In this Advent season, the Church focusses on Christ’s coming again in the clouds with glory ready for the judgment of the nations. But most of us want to say, “Wait! Not yet.” adding, “Give [Christ’s] peace a chance.” So, in this time of waiting for Christ’s coming again, we prepare to tell the story of God’s love for the world and pray for a more loving outcome in world affairs. In Christ there is hope, and that hope is for the world.

When the fig tree and the other trees put forth their leaves, know that summer is near, and know also that the kingdom of God is as real as those leaves that signify life itself. Therefore, let us be the rock in the middle of the stream. Let us look up to where our hope and help comes from. Let us stand in the gap proclaiming God’s forgiveness and mercy for all people. Let us go to those places of the world where Christ is calling us, singing, “Thunder rollin', lightnin' flashin', / But right through the middle of it I go dashin'. Goes to show how far I'll go for you / If you want me to.” (Roger Miller)