Göttinger Predigten
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First Sunday of Advent, 12/03/2017
Sermon on Mark 13:24-37, by Ryan Mills
[Jesus said:] 24“In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, 25and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. 26Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. 27Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. 28“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 29So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 30Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 31Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 32“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. 34It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. 35Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, 36or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. 37And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.” –Mark 13:24-37, NRSV.
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son+, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” Thus the prophet Isaiah begins our readings this morning on this first Sunday of Advent, with a prayer for God to tear open the sky and come down to us. While up in Maine for Thanksgiving last week, I looked up into the cold pitch-black sky one night, and remembered all the times I’ve seen a meteorite streak across the sky, a blade of light slicing the sky in two, the thrill of seeing the heavens being rent apart by light. “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,” is a prayer, is a groan from not only the prophet, but from us too! Come down here, Lord, into this world that seems spinning out of control. Come down here to me at my wit’s end, not sure which way to go. Come down here to this world that isn’t just, isn’t fair, isn’t right. Come down here to my heart that is broken, to my tears that no one sees. Come down here because of the burden of my own heavy sins. Come down here because this world has no other hope! O that you would tear open the heavens and just come down!
Isaiah cries out to God today in a way that doesn’t sound too different from us, “You know, Lord in the past you did great things, you acted for all to see in fire and smoke, back then there was no doubt, then everyone knew and believed, but now, Lord: No one calls on your name, none is righteous, we’ve all ended up filthy, you’ve hidden your face from us, we can’t find you, but…but, you, Lord, are the potter, and we are the clay, and we are the work of your hands, and better to be in your hands, than in ours, so look, we are your people, and you’re all we have, so: O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!”
It was over 2000 years ago now that that cry, that prayer was answered. On that holy night, He did tear open the heavens and come down, “For us and for our salvation, he came down from heaven,” and was born of a Virgin, tearing into this world with the cry of a baby’s first breath. St. Mark’s Gospel, which we will hear over the course of this next year, tells us that at the moment of Christ’s baptism by John in the Jordan River, the heavens were literally torn open, ripped open, never to be stitched or sealed up again. Like one of those plastic bags around a Thanksgiving turkey, once it’s ripped, it’s ripped and there’s no sewing it back together again/ He tore open the heavens, and now there is no more separation from God, he has come so close now, for he was born as one of us, and breathed and lived and died as one of us, except that on the Cross, he who was perfect love and knew no sin, was torn apart by your sin and mine, but even in his death he tore through this old earth and came down even into hell, into the lowest place you or I could go, he came down, as far as you or I could go from God, he has gone there too, and on the third day he rose again, and he tore through that stone tomb, he tore through death itself, he tore through it for you and for me, to destroy your destruction and to die your death, and now… we wait, now we watch, we keep awake for his coming down again in glory.
For Advent is not so much waiting for Christ to be born—that has already happened, thank God, he has already torn open the heavens and come down—but it’s waiting and keeping alert for him who created you out of nothing, and who was raised up from the dead for you, to come down again in glory to gather you to himself. If you’ve ever seen fireworks from afar, Easter is like the bright light you see instantly, while his coming again for you is like that delayed sonic boom that takes a while to catch up. It lags, but it is coming, for the heavens are already torn open, and so his delay, and our waiting, is just his kindness, just his patience, just grace upon grace while we wait and watch.
And so Christ promises us today, that even though there will be suffering and everything will fall apart, even though the sun will go dark and the moon not give its light, and the stars will fall from heaven, even though heaven and earth will pass away, even though everything we value and love will be shaken and suffer, he promises us that just then he will come down in great glory and will gather his chosen, he will gather you, and bring you to himself, and that whatever else passes away his Word for you will never pass away.
For on the Cross he underwent great suffering for you, on the Cross the sun went dark overhead, on the Cross everything was shaken and fell apart all around him, on the Cross he himself was torn apart, so that we might be gathered, so that he could gather you and I together with all his people from the four corners of the earth, to be with him now in faith, in his Church, and to be with him forever in his glory. And so his Word for you shall never pass away, his Word that promises you: “You are mine.” “You are loved.” “You are forgiven.” “You are in my hand, and no matter what, no one will ever snatch you away from me.”
“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” Once more, this morning, he comes down to us. He who once came down as a child, born of his mother the blessed Virgin Mary, he came lying helpless in a Manger, he who once was taken down from the Cross, to be laid in the tomb for you and me; he will come down again in power and great glory to gather you and me and all his people to himself. He comes down to you now in bread and in wine, in his body and his blood, to meet you this morning, to feed you this morning, to keep you awake and watching for him this season, “This is my body, come down and broken for you, this is my blood come down and shed for you.” It seems so little, but it is more than enough to keep you nourished and awake, until he comes down again in final glory.
So, this Advent, we cry out with the Prophet and with this whole weary world: “Oh, that you would tear open the Heavens and Come Down.” Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.
And the Peace of God which passes all understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, Amen.