Between Distraction and Despair:
Advent as Apocalypse

November 28, 2021 • 1st Sunday of Advent
Scripture Reading: Luke 21:25-36 (The Inclusive Bible)
Pastor Alexis Lillie

Well … happy first Sunday of Advent! This is an intense passage, especially on a Sunday when we're probably expecting stories about the typical Advent themes of hope, and peace, and joy, and love leading up to Jesus' birth! 

So I’m going to do something they tell you in seminary not to do; explain why I'm preaching on this text. In this case, I think pulling back the curtain is helpful. This is one of the passages in the lectionary text for today. If you’re not familiar, the lectionary is designed in part so we cycle through the sacred texts and thus get some of the stranger and more difficult passages that we wouldn't always choose to preach from. 

Admittedly seems a little strange to dwell on ideas presented here: destruction, foreboding, foretelling the kin-dom of God. It’s also weird because we get Jesus talking as a grown-up and normally in advent texts, Jesus isn't born yet! We're going to get to the birth narrative, and how it ties in, but first, some investigation of what's going on in this text itself. 

Right before this passage, Jesus has predicted the destruction of the temple and of Jerusalem, which is then connected closely to the imagery in this passage about distress, and confusion, and fear over what is yet to come. It’s thought, then, that Luke was written post-destruction, and people in Luke’s audience would know that Jesus' prediction came true. 

Because of this, there will be suffering and pain: the Jewish people have lost their place, their physical space, the place where they worshipped and gathered as community. And yet into the context of what's going on in this passage, and what's going on in Luke's day, Jesus also speaks of something unexpected that's on the other side of this suffering and devastation.

The "son of humanity" is coming and redemption is drawing near for "this generation." 

Does that clear it up?? This is a complicated sentence in and of itself!

I would venture to make a connection here to Pastor Jeff's sermon last week on salvation, and the idea that redemption, or salvation, or being made new – all these ideas are connected. And these ideas are not individualistic, and not only human-focused. This would have resonated with Luke’s audience, too, because the meaning in Greek of “this generation” is “all that are born,” “all that live on earth.” Expanding the understanding to all the created order! All that is alive! This apocalyptic-sounding vision offered by Jesus is assurance that even in the face of devastation, the movement of God toward flourishing – this idea that we call redemption or salvation – will not be impeded. 

No matter how much it appears that the world is coming undone, God’s way endures. This is unexpectedly good news!

So, with a bit of an understanding of the text in its interpretive and cultural context and what is being foreshadowed – the flourishing for all things that is expectedly unexpected – I want to actually flip this around. I want to use this text to look back on the stories surrounding Jesus' birth.

The various stories of Jesus' birth have some common denominators with each other, and with much of the despair we find in our text today. In all of these texts, there’s the oppression of Jewish people - a minority group in the surrounding Roman culture. There’s mistreatment even within the Jewish community of their own people. There’s fear for bodily safety, and their places that they gather. There’s manipulation under an unjust economic system. We see all this throughout the stories of Jesus' birth but really throughout his life, and that entire time period. 

When read "backward" toward the birth of Jesus, the "coming of the son of humanity" is not a future event, it's something that has already happened in Jesus' birth. However, it is still the unexpected in-breaking of the divine: God's vision for the world endures even in the midst of suffering and destruction; it’s revealed in a really unexpected way, as a baby!! 

This is certainly unexpected in and of itself, but also because of the way prophecies of the “savior” were often interpreted. Around this time of year, in church, we talk a lot about how the Jewish community expected a literal, physical king. Instead, as a response to the injustice and violence suffered by the Jewish people, the fulfillment of prophecy – according to the connections the gospel authors want us to make – is a baby!

No matter what the time period we find ourselves in – whether the original context of our passage today, or the tumultuous times of Jesus' birth, or the many apocalypses we could point to today – the dramatic and unexpected ideas from our text resonate.

There’s a feeling of the heavens being shaken, of witnessing destruction, and experiencing despair. These are things that speak to us all, across history. And yet what the passage reminds us, no matter our historical location, is that we can also look for the hope of the unexpected. In the midst of suffering and trauma, we can look for the Son of Humanity, the Christ, and the many ways that can show up. But look closely because the presence of the Christ may show up in ways we may not be conditioned to see. 

Then I think the question becomes: how can seeking out these unexpected presences in the midst of disaster lead us to "raise our heads" like our passage suggests? At first glance, the admonition not to get weighed down with distraction in the midst of disaster seems unnecessary. When things reach this level of cataclysm, who is going to be so unaware of all this catastrophe that they miss the signs and drink and worry and are caught unexpectedly? 

And yet, that's exactly what happens. I know for myself, I can listen to a podcast and absorb info on climate disaster while drinking a latte or shopping online. Or I should say, many of us have this luxury of distraction, and we must work out how to balance staying engaged without falling into despair and letting distraction from that despair become indulgent. 

This text calls us not to escape and also not to get bogged down in the pain of reality. How can we accomplish both these things?! How can we "raise our heads" as the text says? This seems especially important for those of us who don't have the luxury of distraction – who could easily despair as we are suffering under a system that, similar to Jesus' day, is still oppressing, exploiting, abusing, denigrating. 

Because, to circle back to the original context of this passage, that's really who this story is for. For most of his life and ministry, Jesus is concerned with the folks in his community who are suffering and oppressed. Whether read looking forward toward the continuing work of God in the world, or read with the stories of Jesus' birth in mind, the unexpected in-breaking of the divine is good news for those who are suffering under the status quo. By extension then, it sometimes isn't such good news for those of us for whom the status quo works ok. 

In response to oppressive circumstances, all of us have an invitation to look for where Christ is showing up in unexpected ways. This can also be an antidote to the temptation to sink into despair or distracted indulgence when confronted with reality. 

There's that famous quote by Mister Rogers: "When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'" This, perhaps, is the Cliff Notes version of my sermon! The "TL;DR" for your internet nerds! 

The "helpers" and the help that arrives in the midst of scary things are the unexpected, whatever form they take. They are providing an opportunity to pull ourselves out of this conflict between despair and distraction.

Today we've leaned into this idea and named and lit the candle of the unexpected. So I invite you to continue pondering: Where do things feel bleakest for you? Most cataclysmic or catastrophic? What are the unexpected things happening in the midst of this despair? Can you see these things as divine? 

Look for the helpers, the things you least expect, the surprising notes in what may feel like an orchestra of suffering. This is the hope, the peace, the joy, the love we seek this Advent ... this is God. 

(c) 2021 Alexis Lillie
All rights reserved.