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The First Sunday of Advent , 12/02/2018
Sermon on Luke 21:25-36, by Ryan D. Mills
A Sermon on Luke 21: 25-36
[Jesus said:] 25“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. 26People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. 27Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. 28Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” 29Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; 30as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. 31So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. 32Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. 33Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 34“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, 35like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. 36Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.” (Luke 21: 25-36, NRSV).
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Welcome on this First Sunday of Advent, the first of these four weeks of preparation where we wait and watch for the coming of our Lord Jesus, knowing that He who came the first time as a newborn baby will come again as victorious Lord of all.
When I was a child, every year right after Thanksgiving my dad would bundle us all into the station wagon at night and drive out to where it was really dark so we could look for two things: Santa’s sleigh and the Christmas Star! As a parent, I now realize he was just trying to give my mother five minutes of peace with us out of the house, and truth be told we weren’t too careful about our astronomical observations! The colder it was the quicker we always found both the sleigh and Christmas star, we were so desperate to get back into the warm car on those frozen Minnesota nights, but as we got distracted by our quickly numbing hands or began focusing on the other activities we brought with us, he was insistent: “Look up, look up, see if you can see it!”
As we begin Advent this year there’s plenty of reason to be distracted or numb by what’s going on in our world, plenty or reason to keep our eyes and spirits downcast and focused on just what’s in front of us, focused on our own anxieties and just surviving the craziness of one more December. But each week this Advent our prayer is for something bigger, something more powerful, something along the lines of our Prayer of the Day today: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and come. Protect us by your strength, and save us from the threatening dangers of our sins.” Stir yourself up, Lord, and come, come and save us from the threatening dangers of what we have done and left undone, the threatening danger of not having loved you with our whole hearts, of not having loved our neighbors as ourselves. Stir yourself up, Lord, and save us from the threatening dangers of our being weighed down with self-indulgence, crushed by the unending worries of our lives. Stir yourself up, Lord, and save us from the threatening dangers of a world unraveling, of our cosmos out of control, “There will be signs in the sun, the moon the and stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused-- people will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” Whether it’s the sun being darkened by California wildfire smoke, or acts of terror against innocents in schools and congregations and shopping malls everywhere we look; whether it’s our good earth groaning under our unsustainable heavy burden, or the senseless wars and cruel famines unceasing every day in the news, Jesus sees our situation perfectly: signs in the sun, moon, and stars; confusion and fainting from fear; wars and rumors of wars; all these things are signs of the end, Jesus says, but not the end. Instead they are all signs that point to the whole creation’s need for the Prince of Peace, the Son of Righteousness, our desperate need for the green branch to spring up this Advent and to execute justice and righteousness in the land, so that we will be saved, so that we will all, all, live in safety. But here’s the amazing thing—that right when things get really bad, right when the heavens are shaken, right when we should ‘duck and cover’, right when the awe-ful Son of Man himself appears with his saints in power and great glory, Jesus says, “Look up!” “Stand up and raise your heads, your redemption is drawing near.” When things are at their worst, when you cannot see any more future—well stand up and look up in faith, look up in hope, look up and away from yourself, look up from your own failings and inabilities, and look to me, look up to Jesus’ wounded hands outstretched for you. When the going gets tough, look up!
One of my favorite movies of the last several years is The 33, the story of those thirty-three Peruvian miners who were buried alive in a mining accident, trapped twenty stories under a collapsed mountain in the desert, unable to free themselves. What do you do in that situation, except faint from fear and foreboding, except for despair and lay down to die, except resign yourself to your bitter fate? There’s a scene where after weeks of being trapped, the miners gather together for their ‘last supper’, to finish their last survival supplies, a tiny piece of bread, a tiny sip of water, “If that’s my last meal from this job then I quit,” says one! But it’s also the story of a rescue effort, of 10 huge drills simultaneously burrowing deep down into the mountain, of the love of the miners’ families, “I’m not leaving without you,” each family above pledges. What would you do, as into your silence twenty stories underground you hear that sound, that burrowing, that shaking, the sound of rescue coming from above? What could you do, except gaze up, cry out, focus for all you’re worth on Him who is coming for you from up above? This is our situation this Advent: that for us who are buried under the rubble of sin and death, God is on a rescue mission this season. God is seeking out what is his own, he is relentlessly, incessantly on his way to reach us, to free us, to make us new, so that we may be with him and live with him forever. “Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near,” Jesus says. In the midst of it all, stand up, raise your heads, look up, your redemption is near.
And what will it be like on that great Day when He comes again, to see that drill of his power break through into our darkness, to see the true Light stream through, to feel the fresh air of his Spirit rush in? What will it be like to finally be with the Lord who waits and longs for us, who is coming for us, and who has promised, “I am not going anywhere without you!”
As I talked about worship here Trinity with someone the other day, she told me, “When I kneel down for Communion I hear the promise, “This is my body, broken for you,” and I receive the body and blood of Jesus to love me and forgive me, then I look up, I look up at the sunlight streaming down through the great rose window above me, and I know that no matter what, it’s OK, that God is with me forever.”
That’s our promise this Advent, heaven and earth will pass away, but God has promised to rescue us, to come again for us, to make everything right and new, and to be with us forever. So when these things take place: Stand up, raise your heads, and look up! Your redemption is drawing near.
And the Peace of God which passes all understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, Amen.