Pages

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Advent 2



Luke 21:25-36 - Advent 2 - December 9, 2012
Our Redemption Draws Near
In the news lately, I’ve read, and maybe you’ve read also, that there’s been some roused concern over the end of the world (as we know it) supposedly predicted by the ancient Mayans.  Maybe you haven’t noticed the stories.  It’s not like it’s really big news.  After all, how many kooks rise up here and there claiming to know when the end of the world will be, even being so bold as to set dates and times?  We know it’s a hoax every time.  Doesn’t Jesus Himself tell us? “Of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”   Now if not even Jesus, according to His humbled human nature, is privy to the knowledge of that exact day, certainly no other man will be either. 

This Mayan prediction, though, is a little different from that.  It’s no less ridiculous – don’t get me wrong.  But it doesn’t really predict the end of the world per se – it doesn’t say that judgment day is coming or that Jesus is returning.  It’s just that their calendar, prepared centuries ago, which spans 5,125 years from beginning to end suddenly, on December 21, 2012, just stops.  Why?  Why so precise?  Weird, huh?  It’s allure, I suppose, lies in the fact that so much is left to the imagination.  Could it be the end … of something?  Could it be a meteor?  Could it be economic collapse?  Could it be the fall of America?  Could it be the rise of another superpower?  Could it be some sort of catastrophe that the devil has been brewing up and saving for December 21 of this year for a really long time now?  Could it be?   It doesn’t matter.  And there’s a couple of reasons why it doesn’t matter. 


First of all, there are much more realistic explanations for why the ancient Mayan calendar is put together the way it is.  But that’s another issue. 

The real reason it doesn’t matter is because nothing will really substantially change even if something terrible were to end up happening.  What signs do we really wait for anyway?  What more devastation can occur on earth that hasn’t already occurred that could more clearly or effectively teach us to place our hope in Christ alone?  What calamity, what world war, what great recession could teach us more about the fate of this wicked world than what the Lord God in our Gospel lesson has already taught us?  Nothing.  Do we see this world get worse and worse?  What’s new?  Is this life not full of trouble? 

There will be signs, [Jesus says,] in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth distress of nations in perplexity because of the roaring of the sea and the waves, people fainting with fear and with foreboding of what is coming on the world. For the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near. 

When these things begin to take place.  It’s no wonder that folks have thought that the Day has been coming so soon for so long now.  Every generation of weary Christians, oppressed by the evils of the age, expects that Christ must return soon – things have gotten so bad.  And every generation that has entertained this expectation has been absolutely right.  The signs point to it.  These things have begun.  Our redemption is drawing near. 

But Jesus didn’t give us a heads up concerning these signs so that we might figure out the day or hour – and then based on our figuring – then become ready.  No, He told us what to look for in order that we might always be ready.  Always.  And that’s why we can always expect this world to bring so much heartache and pain. 

Bad things happen.  We wait for the destruction of this world.  The distress of the nations consists of the nations being afraid of and perplexed by the world’s demise.  But the hope of the nations, that is, the hope that all nations have in Christ, consists of this very same thing:  that this world will soon be destroyed.  The only thing is, for us, with the world’s destruction, comes our redemption as well. 

You lose your job.  Your car breaks down.  Your wife or husband is sick.  The market crashes.  Investments fail.  Fire and drought burn what you’ve worked so hard to enjoy.  Tornadoes and storms repossess what the bank does not.  Relationships crumble and you can’t fix them.  You’re slowing down.  There’s trouble without; and there’s trouble within.  Within – temptations won’t go away.  You resist.  You cave.  They return to claim you.  As you get older, and seem to conquer one temptation, another one soon makes its appeal.  Life is so hard.  The world is so evil.  You know it.  You see the devil at work.  But your flesh still delights in the pleasures he promises.   You know it’s a lie.  You identify sin.  You join voices with those who condemn it.  But no matter how much you condemn what is morally wrong, you still see your own failure to free yourself from what God condemns in you.  O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?  Dear Christians, thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.  

Straighten up; lift up your heads; this is what He redeems us from.  Even all of creation groans with us like with labor pangs for that day of redemption – that’s what St. Paul says.  Creation itself waits for the revealing of the sons of God, when we will be rescued from this dying world. 

Life brings sorrow.  We need to be delivered.  This earthly life is tainted by sin.  We need God to take this life away away from us.  We need God to forgive us our sin.  We need God, through the merits of Christ alone, to give us a new life that is perfected in righteousness.  We need to know what Jesus has done to redeem us from sin, death, and the power of the devil.  We need to see this current life that we live as something worth losing and being delivered from in order that we might see in our pain, in our sorrow, in our disappointment the certainty that despite it all our redemption is drawing near.  In order to see this and know this and believe this, we must know the bloody suffering and death of our Lord Jesus Christ. He, by His sacrifice on the cross, has rescued us from God’s wrath, and has reconciled us to His Father in heaven.  

Therefore we rejoice in tribulation, because tribulation drives home this crucial truth: our redemption is drawing near.  He who has overcome the world will soon return.  Christ will come again to destroy the earth.  Christ will come again to claim us.  These are the two parts of our redemption. 

Now there are good things in earthly life, to be sure.  God is gracious, after all.  He is generous.  He was even generous toward His own Son in the flesh as He lived His life on earth.  Jesus had good parents, didn’t He?  He received His daily bread and even enjoyed the finer things in life like good wine, and health.  And yet what is it that Jesus said? “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”  What does He mean?  This is not to say, you know, that He was poor or destitute or even homeless.  No.  There is no innate virtue in poverty.  Poor people are just as greedy as rich people.  It is to say, rather, that Jesus – even as our substitute living a life of faith toward God – did not count these earthly blessings as anything to be held onto compared to the life that God promises in His word.  Jesus held as more precious the life that is reserved in heaven for all those who long to leave this world. 

But we long to stay.  Don’t we?  The earth will be destroyed.  Do we mourn?  Now, of course, it’s good to recognize life as a good gift from God.  But how do we define our lives?  Do we define our lives by what we have? – by what moth and rust destroy? – by the joys this world offers?  Is it so hard to see them go?  Do we define our lives by our moral accomplishments? – by our kindnesses and good reputation?  But it is precisely this that we need to be saved from – our stubborn holding on to what is in constant jeopardy.  God still gives us what is good.  But the breath of the same good Lord who gives us everything blows upon the things He gives us.  And we are left with one solitary hope: Christ.  As the voice in the wilderness cried, according to Isaiah’s prophecy:

The grass withers, the flower fades,
Because the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God stands forever. 

God takes away good things.  In Christ’s warning that He will come again to destroy the earth, He is telling us that He will destroy the good things we have.  And He will destroy those who won’t let go of them too.  But He won’t take away His word.  No.  His word endures.  St. Peter, quoting the same words of Isaiah that I just quoted, says in his first chapter:  Now this is the word which by the gospel was preached to you.”  What you hear from the mouth of God is the most certain thing in your life. 

To illustrate this point, Jesus tells a parable: 
Look at the fig tree, and all the trees. As soon as they come out in leaf, you see for yourselves and know that the summer is already near.  So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all has taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
This is one of the plainest and simplest parables that Jesus ever told.  As surely as there are clear signs in the budding trees that the long cold winter is over and that summer is near, so also the fact that sin and suffering continue to fill this earth and afflict us only indicates one thing:  God’s kingdom is near; His word is sure. 

God’s kingdom.  We know what that is.  It is His kingdom of grace here on earth before it is His kingdom of glory on the last day.  God’s kingdom is near.  It is near to claim us through the word of God that gives Baptism its power.  It is near to cheer us in our every loss, even when our sinful hearts still find it so hard to say good riddance.  It is near to give us new hearts that rejoice to see God’s will done.  It is near to forgive us our sins on account of Jesus’ bitter suffering and death.  It is near you.  It is in your mouth and in your hearts, that is, the word of God, which we preach (Romans 10:8). 

Through the preaching of the Gospel, God is near to save you.  Listen to these words from what should be a relatively familiar Psalm (46), and note how closely they address the first paragraph of our Gospel lesson this morning: 

God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
Even though the earth be removed,
And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
Though its waters roar and be troubled,
Though the mountains shake with its swelling.

We will not fear.  Because God’s word tells us not to.  This is why God has been speaking through His prophets and Apostles for so long.  “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (Romans 15:4).  Where else would we find hope?  This hope is found in Jesus of whom the prophets spoke.  It is found in Him who comes to us this Advent season in order to give us the fruits of His first advent when He came in humility to bear the curse of sin in our place.  It is found in Him who will come again in His final advent in glory when He will rescue us all from the destruction that we see is coming. 

This generation doubts.  This generation ignores the signs.  This generation holds on, with desperation and foreboding, to what will most certainly pass away.  But this generation will see that God’s word cannot be broken.  Christ is coming.  Heaven and earth and everything that the world tries to earn and claim will pass away.  But the promise that Jesus gives to us in the Gospel will never pass away.  The robe of righteousness that clothes us by faith in what our Savior has spoken will never pass away.  The God to whom we are reconciled by the blood of Christ our Lord and Judge is the eternal God.  And He prepares for us what we will enjoy with Him forever. 

And so we watch ourselves.  We watch ourselves lest we be weighed down by dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life – by worries and concerns about what awful thing comes next – today, tomorrow, next Friday the 21st – it doesn’t matter.  We watch ourselves by finding in Christ our true treasure, our pure righteousness, and our eternal stay. 

Let us pray:
Lord, your mercy will not leave me;
Ever will your truth abide.
Then in you I will confide.
Since your word cannot deceive me,
My salvation is to me
Safe and sure eternally.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

No comments:

Post a Comment