Text — Mark 13:5-8;17-20; 24-31

Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray.  6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray.  7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come.  8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

17 Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days!  18 Pray that it may not be in winter.  19 For in those days there will be suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of the creation that God created until now, no, and never will be.  20 And if the Lord had not cut short those days, no one would be saved; but for the sake of the elect, whom he chose, he has cut short those days. 

24 “But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,

and the moon will not give its light,

 25        and the stars will be falling from heaven,

and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

26 Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory.  27 Then 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.  29 So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he † is near, at the very gates.  30 Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.  31 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

What do we make of a passage like this?  What does it mean when Jesus says the end is near, that wars, earthquakes, and famines are the beginning of the birth pangs, and that we should hope that these days will be cut short?

This event that’s being talked about is the apocalypse.  The word apocalypse means revelation, or unveiling, uncovering of the truth.  the underlying idea is that there is much about God and life that we can’t know.  Our vision is obscured.  St. Paul said it’s as if we “see through a darkened glass.” We can’t see the Truth in its fullness.  And that includes the truth about what our struggles in life mean, why life is hard,  and where this is all leading.  There is much that isn’t ours to know.

But, from another perspective, from God’s perspective, there is Truth.  Good and evil may be hidden or disguised for humans, but they’re seen clearly from God’s perspective. 

In the first century, in the time of John the Baptist and Jesus, there was a widespread belief that went like this:  Very soon the veil will be lifted.  Good and evil in the world will be seen for what they really are.  They won’t be disguised  or hidden anymore.  This is a major theme or motif of the Advent season.  Everyone’s true heart and motives and life will be laid bare in the Great Judgment.

This present age, the age of darkness and partial sight will end.  Wars, earthquakes, famine and so on are signs that this end is very near, and that the new age, the new creation, is about to break in.  Again, this whole process is called the Apocalypse, the Revelation. 

Now there’s one more thing you need to know to make sense of the New Testament.  In the first century, this apocalyptic vision raised an obvious question.  What if you die before the end?  What about good people who suffer and die before this great turning point?  Do they lose out on their reward?  And what about bad people who die before the end?  Do they escape the day of Judgment and get off the hook? 

The answer is: no one loses out or escapes.  On that day, the day of the Lord, even those who are in their graves will be exposed to this light of revelation.  In John’s gospel (5:25-28) Jesus says this:

Truly I tell you, the hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God … all who are in their graves will hear his voice and come out — those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of condemnation.”

This is the world view that underlies most of our Advent readings and hymns in particular.  Advent and Easter are the most apocalyptic seasons.  The end draws near with angel’s announcement to Mary that she will bear the Savior.  John the Baptist announces Jesus’ arrival to the masses.  The end begins to break in with Jesus’ birth.  It breaks in more with Jesus’ death and resurrection, and it breaks in even more with the coming of Jesus’ Spirit at Pentecost.  We call Jesus the first fruit of the new creation because his resurrection is the sign that this general resurrection is about to happen.  For us, this sounds bizarre and complicated, but this is the language of the Bible we have to work with and understand. 

At this point, an obvious question presents itself.  What happened?  We’re still waiting.  Jesus himself said in verse 30 of our passage:

”Truly I tell you, this generation (his own generation, in the first century) will not pass away until all these things have taken place.

But that generation did pass away, and many other generations have come and gone but those things he described didn’t take place.  The end has not come. What do we do with that?  Was Jesus wrong?  Is this whole apocalyptic vision wrong? 

Or does this vision hold a deeper truth — a saving truth?  Maybe a new age did come on a different level than the cosmological one.  The moon didn’t disappear and the stars didn’t fall, but maybe Jesus did change everything by giving us a different way to think about all our lives.

I have an example in mind.  It’s not a pleasant one to consider, but we are talking here about the end of history and the end of life, so I  ask you to forgive me for not coming up with a more cheerful way to make this point.

Imagine a baby born into this world.  She takes her first breath.  She’s held by her mother and her father, who love her deeply.  They feel that rush of wonder and gratitude to see this tiny, fragile human life that’s come out of their own lives and love.  Everything goes fine at first, but then after something appears that every parent dreads.  This little girl whom they love so much, gets sick, and struggles, and suffers, and dies.  Her life is cut short.  This happens.  

The part of that experience I want to focus on is this.  This baby never gets a chance to find out why she suffers.  She never gets to know what her parents are about — why they love her, or how they suffer with her and for her, how they worry and try everything to save her life.

She never gets a chance to know what her life means to them.  All of this remains veiled.

And yet, we can also imagine, easily, that her parents still feel grateful for her life — that they got to know her and hold her for as long as they did.  Her life means more to them than she could ever know.  She will still be their daughter forever.  This truth can only be known from outside her life, from a larger perspective, from the parent’s perspective, or from God’s perspective.

This story is a little apocalypse.  In both cases, in the life of that child in the apocalypse in the Bible, a lifek a world, a universe, ends.  In both case, the love operating is unknown to the person suffering.

All our lives are like that.  Life is a mixture.  We never figure out exactly what it all means.  But as Christians believe that the gospel unveils what we need to know. 

Only from the larger perspective, from God’s perspective, the truth of our lives is known.  Heaven and earth will pass away.  Our little world, and even this planet, will pass away.  But God’s Word, Jesus Christ, the revelation of God’s love for all creatures, will not pass away.