[Jesus said:] “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. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”
Luke 21:25-36
Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
“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, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be 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.”
My sermon from the First Sunday of Advent (December 1, 2024) on Luke 21:25-36 and Psalm 25:1-10.
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In my neighborhood images about the future are everywhere. There is, for example, an inflatable plastic train filled with sun-faded elves who are heading to the North Pole. On the house next to them are icicles along gutters who shine brightness at night and that will never actually melt no matter how warm the air actually gets. And just down the block is a twelve foot tall skeleton whose scary Halloween-esque face has been cheered up by the bright red of Santa’s hat. Most of us, even if we’re not believers, can’t help but be focused on all the stress and fun this season brings. There’s the plans for winter break; the questions about which toys in Santa’s sleigh are meant for us; and the expectation for the kind of peace and comfort being sold in most TV commercials. But that doesn’t mean this season will be exactly what we want. There’s also all those other emotions and thoughts and sadness that make this season more difficult than we want. Christmas is an event and experience that demands our focus, attention, and care. Yet it’s also, at this moment, happening in the future even though the air is filled with the smell of Christmas cookies and Cyber Monday deals. Even if we’re trying to hold onto the anticipation at the heart of the Advent season, every Christmas card, every online order we place, and every ornament we hang on the tree is a downpayment for the hope we need for Christmas to be. And so it’s fitting, I think, that on this first Sunday of December – this first day of Advent – we are keeping our eye on the future which is also a big part of what our reading from the gospel according to Luke is all about.
Now the start of Advent is always hard because every town tree lighting, every targeted ad on our social media feeds, and way too many Hallmark movies inspired by the Kansas Chiefs are trying to turn every moment into a soft-focused version of Christmas morning. The coffee and hot chocolate were drinking on Christmas morning while kids quietly opened gifts while surrounded by those who loved them best – is too often the limit of what we allow Christmas to be. But God choosing to break into the fullness of our life will be something different since it’s not what power and authority typically do. Rarely would we choose to embrace the kind of fragility, vulnerability, and weakness God did to feel what being human is all about. The Christmas we expect often runs headfirst into the Christmas we get which isn’t always full of snowflakes falling gently from the sky. And the words we just heard from Luke seem to fit the real energy Christmas brings. These words from a larger conversation Jesus had right before the Cross. He, like any good physician, was being a bit proactive by inviting his followers to prepare for what life might bring. He, in the verses right before the ones I just read, hinted at Jerusalem’s destruction and the disciples’ own persecution since they had the audacity to proclaim that someone other than the Emperor was king. After prepping the community for the hard work of faith, Jesus then encouraged all of them to be ready. Those hearing these words for the very first time wouldn’t have been entirely surprised since he mostly quoted from the prophets – such as Daniel, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and even the Psalms. They pointed to a future day when God would, once again, intervene decisively in the world. The stuff of life we all live would be transformed into something more. Now the verbs Jesus used are the ones we usually associate with Christmas morning. What we’re longing for is a kind of comfort that fits the Mary who we regularly proclaim as being completely mild. Yet Jesus’ promise “this generation” will see all God’s power up close and personal pushes us to wonder what Jesus’s words – and this entire season – are meant to do. And this, I think, is an invitation to let Advent and Christmas – with all its anxieties, joys, happiness, and way too many unmet expectations – be as complicated as it truly is.
Saying that, though, is easier than doing it since we live in a culture that makes the joy of this season depend entirely on us. What we need is some kind of spiritual tool to let us live into the fullness of this season which we find in the opening words from our Psalm today. That poem began a very simple yet profound declaration – inviting us to fully participate in whatever this future might be. That word – “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you” can be a kind of mantra that speaks into this current moment. So when we heard Jesus say today that “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” – we can respond with those other holy words: “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you.” As we race to finish our never ending todo list attempting to make this season match every expectation we have placed on ourselves – we can shout into the sky “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you.” When Jesus spoke knowing the Cross was almost here – telling his friends how “People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken” – we can join with them by saying: “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you.” And when Jesus looked at those whose future would be complicated since they would see their hopes, dreams, and imagination transformed into something more – he offered the promise that his word and his relationship with each of us would never fade away. It’s this gift that we have done nothing to earn that propels us to offer our soul, our time, our energy, our focus, and our trust to the One who is always there for us. These words from Psalm 25 will not, nor are they meant to replace our doubts, worries, and fears. They serve, instead, as a reminder that our faith is never in vain. What we long for, what we hold onto, and what we trust never fully depends on us. It rests on the One who chose to be with us even when it feels as if Christmas will never come. The promise at the heart of Jesus’ words – the promise at the heart of the the Advent and Christmas season – and even the promise at the core of those Christmas inflatables that we put up in our lawns – is simply that no matter how chaotic and uncertain and pain filled our world and our lives might be, we are already wrapped in God’s future. And since God is holding us through what will be, we can face the fullness of our lives, of this season, of a future holding all our hopes and our disappointments, with the simple phrase: “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you.”
Amen.