Advent 1A2022
Matthew 24:36-44, Isaiah 2:1-5
Jesus sits outside the temple in Jerusalem with his disciples and teaches them about the destruction of the temple which would happen in 70 of the common era, about what would happen to them as followers of his—namely persecution, and finally, in today’s gospel reading, about the end of all time and his return to earth. While some Christians hear Jesus’ words and fashion an end times script into which they are looking to insert themselves and this world, while some Christians hear Jesus’ words and imagine a “rapture,” Jesus himself says nothing of the sort. In raising up examples of Noah and the flood, of those taken from and left in the field, of the thief in the night, Jesus demonstrates the sudden, unexpected, and uncontrollable nature of his return. The people of Noah’s day know nothing of the great flood. Those taken from and left in the field have no warning and no idea what being left or taken means as no positive or negative value is assigned to either position. The householder does not expect the thief. “About that day and hour no one knows,” Jesus says, “neither the angels of heaven nor the Son, but only the Father.” The return of Christ to earth is so sudden, unexpected, and uncontrollable that even Jesus does not know when he will come back. The only thing to do, therefore, is to keep awake because we cannot control Jesus’ return and, by extension, cannot control the future.
Maybe we’re saying this morning: Not cool, Jesus. Not cool. For we like to prepare, to set our lives in order, to reduce uncertainty as much as possible. We have 401(k)s and life insurance policies anticipating retirement and acknowledging our mortality. We have wills and power of attorney forms signed and ready to go. We go to the doctor and exercise and eat healthily hopeful that we will avoid major medical problems. We get married and commit to a lifetime of shared pursuits. We read to our kids and drive them to lessons and games and activities with the hope that our investment will yield a productive member of society (and also just because we love our kids, of course). We look for ways to reduce our carbon footprint, mindful of climate change. We consider the future of democracy and vote accordingly. We reduce uncertainty and exert as much control over the future as we can possibly muster. And still, as this community tragically and painfully knows, the future for which we plan can be taken away in a moment. The reality of this life is that we do not know the future, not even the next moment, and we cannot control it.
It is a scary thing—to acknowledge our relative lack of importance in the grand scheme of things, to accept that, even while we plan and work and do all the right things, what we hope for may never materialize, to sit in the now and realize this is the only moment that we can truly know with any certainty. I invite you to do just that for a few moments. To put your feet on the floor, your hands in your lap, and just be here, now. Pause To close your eyes if you would like or to lower your gaze to the floor in front of you. Pause To become aware of your breathing that, a moment ago, happened without your consciousness. Pause To sense the floor beneath your feet, to sink into the chair beneath your body. Pause Perhaps you came here today feeling overwhelmed; perhaps you have a running to-do list or set of anxieties in your mind. Just set it down for a moment. Pause All we can really know is now, this moment. Pause We are here together, and we are safe in this moment. Pause The next moment, pause now, pause and now, may be different than we expect. Our lives could change in an instant. Pause But what will happen in the future does not take away this moment. Pause Thank you for trying out mindfulness meditation with me. Feel free to go back to your busy mind and anxious spirit now. 😊
After relieving the disciples of certainty, after disarming their desire to know, after illustrating his point with scary examples of the sudden, unexpected, and uncontrollable, Jesus declares: Keep awake for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. To be honest with you, I wonder if Christ has already come back among us but if we don’t notice because we are asleep in our own pursuits. I wonder if Christ is bringing the kingdom even now but we are too busy to pay attention. I don’t know if that’s true, but I want to keep awake.
To notice the birds in the trees, to keep awake.
To say what I actually think, to keep awake.
To rest in the sunshine through the window, to keep awake.
To put down whatever mesmerizes me, to keep awake.
To allow another’s love to reach me, to keep awake.
To listen fully to a child, to keep awake.
To breath in the scent of baking bread, to keep awake.
To see the person right in front of me, the person with a whole world inside them, just like I have, to keep awake.
To say yes to opportunities that give life, to keep awake.
To be here, now, to keep awake.
When we keep awake, we see what God is doing right here, right now. Asleep, we swirl in anxious thoughts and dread the unknown future. Awake, we live with gratitude for this moment. We do not know and cannot control the future. But when we live awake, we cannot help but see the goodness of God. Thanks be to God! Amen.