2023 12 03 Sermon

A Strange Beginning
Advent 1 B
Mark 13:1-2, 24-37; Psalm 80:1-7;  1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone

        When I was in Italy with my family last April, one of the highlights was visiting ancient Rome.  And the highlight of ancient Rome is the Colosseum.  2,000 years after it was built it is still a wonder to behold.  As you walk through its interior stairways and hallways, you're walking just like the spectators who once watched the gladiators fight would have.  Well, they now have it set up as a museum so you can better imagine what the Colosseum was like in its heyday.  This includes displays with illustrations of the marble façade and numerous statues that used to adorn the exterior of the building.  Those fancy things are no longer there.  As ancient Rome fell into corruption and decay, the Colosseum was picked over by scavengers—its most valuable parts taken away and used for other purposes.  The arches and giant stones, the bricks and mortar; they still stand today but are no longer clothed in glory as in ancient times.

        Outside the Colosseum in ancient Rome stands the Arch of Titus, built by the Roman Emperor to celebrate his military victories.  Inside the arch is a picture carved in stone, in bas-relief, of the Roman army carrying away the giant Menorah from inside the Jerusalem Temple.  This event came at the end of the Roman siege of Jerusalem, which lasted four years, from AD 66-70.  The Roman victory meant that they destroyed the Jerusalem Temple, and a pagan army trampled the holiest place in the Jewish world.

        This is what Jesus had been warning his disciples about, some 40 years earlier towards the end of Jesus’ ministry.  As they came out of the Temple, one of his disciples looked around in awe at the wondrous and glorious building—the Temple—that stood as the emblem of their faith and said, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!”  And Jesus responded, “Do you see these great buildings?  Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”  Such a warning about how the powers of this world would be at work, to tumble the Temple, was totally shocking.  The Temple was where everyone looked to see the evidence of God’s presence among them.  It was the center of their worship; the place where their beliefs about a merciful and righteous God were enacted on behalf of the people.  How could the Temple possibly be thrown down?  That would mean God had abandoned us!  Or so it would seem if you’re the one living through such suffering; let’s not forget, this would not be the first time something like that had happened.

        Psalm 80, which we read earlier this morning, is a lament from 700 years before the time of Christ, when the northern kingdom of Israel had fallen.  In praying that Psalm, we join ourselves to the cry of those ancient people, pleading “Restore us, O God; let your face shine on us and we shall be saved.  Stir up your strength and come to help us!”.  It’s a good prayer for us today, or for anyone who is suffering.  In biblical times, this prayer would take 200 years to begin to be answered, and for restoration to begin.

        The kingdoms of Israel and Judah fell.  Even the mighty Roman Empire—who ruled that land in the time of Jesus and the early church, and who defeated Jerusalem, and who tumbled the giant stones of the Temple, and stole the Menorah, and then built an arch back home in Rome to celebrate their victory—even Rome fell.  And today, nations still rise and fall, and people go through terrible suffering because of it.  We can see it every day.  And we see it sometimes even in our own personal lives, when we must endure suffering, which at times can be overwhelming.

        In every generation it is tempting, and even understandable, to point to these kinds of events and say “This is it.  This is the sign that the end times are finally upon us.”  In gospels, however, Jesus has a very consistent message for us about the end times.  He says: “About that day or hour no one knows”—not the angels, not Jesus himself, only God the Father in heaven.  Therefore, Jesus says, “Keep awake”.  And when you notice—as so many generations of faithful people have noticed—that there is a contradiction between God’s promises of blessing for the world, and the ways of the world that are full of suffering, oppression, sin, and evil—when you notice this contradiction, that is when you most need to “Keep awake”.  Kingdoms and nations rise and fall, and even our own life experiences rise and fall—but the presence of God continues on, to give us strength and hope through faith.  God leaves gifts hidden for us to find in the midst of our adversity, just when you’d least expect it.  So keep awake—keep alert to see them!

        Keep awake by encouraging one another through our difficulties, because whether or not we feel the presence of God at a given time, Christ promises that he is always near to you, and he is near to all who suffer—because God loves this world so deeply that he wants to set things right.  If you feel his absence, Jesus’ promise remains that “his words will not pass away” [Mark 13:31] and that he will come again “to make all things new” [Revelation 12:5].  God’s presence is not confined to a Temple, or a church, or to any place or country or nation or people.  God is not confined to our feelings about God, or our thoughts about God, or even to our beliefs about God.  God is certainly present in these things, because God is present in all times and places.  But God is so much bigger than what we can see, or think, or touch, or feel, or believe.  God is the ultimate reality in which “we live and move and have our being” [Acts 17:28].

        It may seem strange to begin the Advent season with scripture readings like we’ve had today, because mostly we’re focused on getting ready for Christmas at this time of year.  We have our beautiful Christmas tree up and the church decorated.  But our scripture readings today ask us to stop for a moment from the busyness and normal preparations of the season, and remember that the world God chose to enter in the flesh through Jesus Christ is the real world as it is.  Advent is a time to remember that God comes among us not only in the joy of a baby’s birth in Bethlehem, but in the midst of every circumstance of life, both good and bad.

        And in spite of our sinfulness; in spite of the suffering in the world; in spite of sickness and death; poverty and pain; violence and fear; prejudice and suspicion; in spite of the lack of love and peace and goodwill and civility and compassion that is all too easy to find—in spite of all that, God promises to be faithful, and to keep showing up among us in surprising ways, with the promise of good news: that a better world is possible, and in fact is on its way.  Because the Christ who was born into this crazy world is the same Christ who died on the cross, and who rose again from the tomb, and who promises to come again to judge the world in righteousness to make all things new.  Amen.