First Sunday of Advent, Mark 13:24-37

December 3, 2023,

Pastor Jonathan Linman

Today’s gospel passage may provoke in us a palpable sense of foreboding. Mark reports that Jesus said, “In those days, after that suffering [of persecution and false prophets and desolating sacrilege], the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” (Mark 13:24-25) These words may fill us with trepidation, because they might seem to be consistent with some of what we’re experiencing today.

Of course, the world has always been troubled by events – human and natural – that cause much suffering and death. But these days, things more cosmic seem to be taking the center stage, like the continuing threat of nuclear weapons annihilation and the specter of ecosystemic collapse because of climate change. Then who knows what Artificial Intelligence will add to the potential toxic brew? Combine these extreme, more cosmic forces of destruction with the more usual ways in which humans are made to suffer – war and crime, injustice and corruption and the like – and we can easily be overcome with fear and trembling about what may be before us as a species.

There’s a lot going on these days that brings us into uncomfortable contact with the ravages of human sin – our sin and that of others. Both the nuclear and climate threats we face we have brought on ourselves as human beings. And in this we may see ourselves reflected in portions of today’s reading from Isaiah where the prophet proclaims: “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.” (Isaiah 64:6)

Of course, this is only part of the story. In today’s appointed passages, I also hear a lot of promise which amounts to good news. It’s so easy to lose sight of good news when so much that commands our attention is bad news. Isn’t that right?

Lest we descend into the abyss of despair, listen again to Jesus’ own words which Mark records. Amidst the powers in the heavens being shaken and the sun being darkened, Jesus said: “Then [we] will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then the Son of Man will send out the angels, and gather the elect from the four winds, form the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.” (Mark 13:26-27)

With this word of promise amidst so much that seems so hopeless, we may identify with the prophet Isaiah’s exclamation in today’s first reading: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1a)

This prophetic utterance expresses the urgency we may feel right now with all of the intersecting crises we face. Thus, we, too, may want to cry out: “Tear open the heavens, O Lord, and come down!”

A major theme of today’s readings suggests that redemption follows on the heels of apocalyptic tragedy. There’s an affirmation and promise that good things can happen after we all hit rock bottom, that God will, in fact, tear open the heavens and come down to save us from our terrible circumstances.

In terms of what God is up to in sending his Son to us, it’s essential to acknowledge the context of today’s gospel reading. All of this apocalyptic stuff is proclaimed in Mark’s Gospel just prior to the story of Jesus’ Passion, his death and resurrection, the ultimate story of good coming out of the horrific.

Here’s how Mark recounts it in his Passion story, describing the events of the crucifixion on Good Friday: “When it was about noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon…. Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, ‘Truly this man was God’s Son.’” (Mark 15:33, 37-39)

This all sounds like a fulfillment of what Jesus said in today’s gospel: the sun went dark for that time. And the powers of the heavens were shaken, and on the cross, the Son of Man appeared in great power and glory. With his arms outstretched on the cross, God’s Son gathered the elect from the four winds and from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

And with the curtain of the temple – the holy habitation of the Most High on earth – torn in two from top to bottom, the heavens were torn open and God, made manifest in Christ Jesus on the tree of the cross, came down to us in the most decisive way in human and cosmic history.

Today begins a new cycle of the church year, the First Sunday of Advent. This is a season to anticipate the various ways in which God enters human history in Jesus Christ. In short, this is a season to prepare for the various comings of Christ, when the heavens are torn open and the divide between things human and things divine is crossed and blended.

The heavens were torn open and God came down in the person of the babe born to Mary in the manger at Bethlehem which we’ll soon celebrate at Christmas.

God came down again at Jesus’ baptism by John in the River Jordan where Mark reports that “just as [Jesus] was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending life a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’” (Mark 1:10-11)

The heavens were torn open again when the power of God rolled away the huge stone at the entrance to the tomb when Christ emerged in resurrected new life.

Advent is about remembering all these comings of God in Christ to us from the heavenly places. But Advent is also about anticipating the promised coming again of our Lord sometime in the future to finish the job he began two millennia ago.

But it’s also true that the comings of God in Christ are part and parcel of our lives today in the present moment. It’s not just about remembering Christ’s coming to us 2000 years ago. And it’s not just about the future coming of Christ either.

The heavens are torn open right here in our midst as well, right now in our present day. Mark reports that Jesus also said: “Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.” (Mark 13:30) Which is to say, for all the living generations in Christian history, Christ has been fulfilling the promise of his coming to us with all sorts of holy things taking place right under our living noses.

The heavens open up to us when Christ comes to us in his holy word of scripture, which he also promises in Mark, will not pass away (cf. Mark 13:31) even in our own age: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

Christ’s coming takes place in our own generation when the heavens are torn open on the occasion of each and every baptism when God in Christ proclaims us as beloved children with whom God is well pleased.

Christ’s coming takes place in our own generation when the heavens are torn open as Christ is known to us in the breaking of bread, when things earthly are joined to things heavenly with the Spirit working amidst simple bread and wine in conveying to us Christ’s living presence, his coming to us, his advent among us even now, even here.

Our present-day generation also knows the heavens being torn open when two or three gather in Jesus’ name and there he is suddenly in our midst in our holy conversations.

Christ’s many and various comings – in the past, in the present, and promised in the future – have the element of surprise. For there’s plenty of mystery and unpredictability concerning the comings of Christ, when the heavens are suddenly rendered and we come to see and experience the divine in our midst, when we entertain angels without knowing it, when we see Christ’s face in whom many consider the least among us.

Thus, we’re called upon to “beware, keep alert” and to “keep awake.” The biblical Greek suggests that another good translation involves being watchful, vigilant for the comings of Christ. In short, Advent is a time of heightened watchfulness and vigilance in our wakeful alertness.

To be more alert and watchful and vigilant you may during Advent want to spend more time in quiet prayer, just being in the present moment. You may want to spend more time in devotional reading of the bible. Or come to our Wednesday morning bible study. Or the evening soup suppers and Evening Prayer services – and our other occasions for worship in this season. During a busy time of the year, it may be a challenge to claim time and energy to pay attention and watch carefully for signs of Christ’s surprise comings.

But when Christ comes, and breaks into our days and routines in unexpected ways, our faith is awakened, enlivened, giving us hope to endure and persevere in these days of the shadows of night. And we come to know the truth of Paul’s promise to the church at Corinth: “God will also strengthen [us] to the end, so that [we] may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom [we] were called into the partnership of the Son of God, Jesus Christ our Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1:8-9)

And with such awakened, enlivened faith, another wondrous thing happens when we do God’s work with our hands in the world: we become in our words and loving deeds yet another coming of Christ into the world as church, the body of Christ, in mission. In our ministries, the terrified, despairing people of the world have occasion to see the loving, peaceful face of Christ in our loving kindness and peace-making.

So, let us pray, “Come, Lord Jesus” – come to us in those many and various surprising ways when the heavens are torn open and you come down into our apocalypse to redeem and to save, breaking the cycle of bad news to bring the good news of your very presence for the healing of the nations. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.