Advent I
Here we are at the Beginning of Advent,
when we begin to anticipate our celebration of the birth of Jesus and the marvellous ability of God to break into our midst in unexpected ways.
As you can see by looking around the sanctuary, the worship committee, specifically through the gifts of Shelley Lepp Fransen and with the banners from Deb Kopeschny and Carolyn Loewen, is trying to depict the magnitude and cosmic significance of God’s vision for the world. This telescope invites us to see with extended vision the magnitude of our spectacular world. This morning I’m going to ask us to focus that telescope and in different places, because what we see depends on where we focus. Let’s begin with our spectacular world. This week on my computer, I saw a remarkable picture of the Crab Nebula, currently one of the most studied objects in the sky, “making it a cosmic icon”, the caption on the picture read. The Crab Nebula is the remains of a star that died in the year 1054 CE. In the image I saw, it shimmers and undulates in fabulous energy rich patterns of red and purple around a more solid blue core.
The images of it that we can see are generally made of composite pictures provided by the Hubble Space telescope, the Spitzer Space telescope and Chandra X-ray imaging. The X-ray data from Chandra provides significant clues to the workings of this mighty cosmic “generator,” which is producing energy at the rate of 100,000 suns.
The images and the very fact of the Crab Nebula give us just one glimpse of God’s vast universe that our telescopes only now allow us to see.
What I also find truly fascinating is that some of the things we see under microscopes are no less impressive or fascinating. God, the creator of the heavens and the stars, our moon, the sun and the planets and the earth and every creature on the face of the earth, this God, has a vision for beauty and intricacy that we human creatures can only begin to grasp. The spectacular beauty and intricacy of our world is one place to focus the telescope. But there are other places we need to focus our telescope this morning. Let’s turn the telescope and focus on what humanity has done and is doing to parts of this great universe. One obvious place to turn the telescope is onto the melting polar ice caps. This is not an easy thing to do. The reality of the melting polar ice caps which have become the symbolic representation for many climate change issues may cause us to wonder; what have we done? What are we doing?
Some days I give my son a ride to school. A couple of times in the past month as we’ve headed out of the driveway, I’ve said to him, “hmm, beautiful day again, a bit unusual for November though.” And his response both times was, “Yeah, its climate change, mom.” And I cringe as we add our fossil fuelled un-renewably energized car to the neighbourhood school rush hour.
As a friend and I were talking briefly about the upcoming climate change summit in Copenhagen where a very large group of world leaders will be meeting in early to mid December to discuss what we have done to create these problems and what we can do now, she said, “you know, the more I hear about the scenarios for what the possible outcomes for our planet will be, the more I don’t want to hear about them.”
There is no question that this is a hard place to look.
Other hard places to look include:
– the pictures in the Toronto Star yesterday from a war photographer stationed in Afghanistan
– the men and women, old and young on the street corners of our cities asking for loose change, in the rain, in the wind, in the cold.
– the significant differences everywhere in the world between those who have too much and those who have too little.
But we are invited by our scriptures today to look fearlessly at these things.
Our scripture texts today – Jeremiah and Luke don’t hesitate to turn the telescope and the microscope on the hard to look places. They don’t shrink from that task.
In Jeremiah, a few verses before the verses for today we hear about the desolation of the towns of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem. The towns and the streets are deserted, inhabited by neither men nor animals.
In Luke, we hear of “nations rising against nations, and empires against empires. There will be great earthquakes, plagues and famines in various places – and in the sky there will be frightening omens and great signs ..and a few verses later, it says, signs will appear in the sun, the moon and the stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish, distraught at the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the earth. The powers in the heavens will be shaken.
This passage in Luke in particular is called apocalyptic literature. The word “apocalypse” means lifting of the veil or revelation and apocalyptic texts are often concerned with the end of things as we know them – that’s eschatology. These apocalyptic passages are found a few places in our Bible, most notably in Daniel, here in the gospels in these words of Jesus, a few places in the letters of Paul and in the book of Revelation.
There are many peop
le who spend a great deal of their time and energy fixated on these apocalyptic passages trying to describe in minute detail what they mean and how they connect to the specifics in the world that we know.
Books are written on the topic, such as by Emanuel Swedenborg’s , Apocalypse Revealed, first published in two volumes in 1766, and more recently , “The Revelation Record” by Henry M. Morris.[50] As well there are TV shows like the Left Behind series that depicts one view of what the end of this age will look like. These are just a few of the examples of places one could focus the telescope.
But what if we put the telescopes away? Do we really need expanded or focused sight to understand what these passages in Jeremiah and Luke are trying to convey to us? I would like to suggest that we don’t need that kind of assistance. What Luke in particular is trying to tell us is that what we need to know will be obvious if we are watchful. What we need to know is as observable and predictable as the budding of the leaves on a tree. When we see the buds on the tree we know summer is near. When we see all these things happening, Jesus says, we will know that the reign of God is near.
Even so, even if we can easily observe “all these things” what might we do with all the fearsome warnings that a text like this one presents? It talks about things that are only too real for us, plagues, read – pandemics, famines, earthquakes, wars and rumours of wars.
Should we be overwhelmed, terrified, despairing?
As I was talking with this friend of mine who told me that she no longer wants to hear about the negative scenarios climate change scientists have outlined for our planet, she paused and said, “you know, maybe the world as we know it should end.”
She didn’t say this with fear, or despair, or even resignation, but what I heard in her voice was a quiet realization mixed with a twinge of hope that there truly must be a greater vision, a greater reality beyond what we humans have so far realized or might be capable of realizing.
This greater vision or greater reality, according to our texts for today will come and it will break in upon us.
In terms of our possible response, I like what preacher Fred Craddock has to say about this kind of eschatological thinking.
He says,
Eschatological thinking is vital to faithful conduct and to hope which resists cynicism. There will be an end to life as it now is, an end that comes as both judgment and redemption. Whether, we go or [Christ] comes, personal theological preferences do not alter eschatology, and contemplation of that fact should have some sanctifying influence … such thinking should aid us in keeping gains and losses in proper perspective. Such thinking should chase away the demons of dulling dissipation and cheer us with the news not only that today is a gift of God but also that tomorrow we stand in the presence of the Son of man. Hmm, this eschatological vision is hope-filled, the kind of hope that gives us the kind of perspective that allows us to see both the gift of this day and that everything that is not a gift will be transformed.
This kind of eschatological vision also inspires us to keep alert and do what we can in the meantime.
If we put the telescope away, grateful, of course, for all that it has been able to show us, we are invited to see that eschatology,
God’s vision for our universe,
God’s great and cosmic vision for our universe,
God’s reign as it breaks into our universe,
has already come in an unexpected way, even as we await something more.
God’s reign broke into our midst a long time ago in the form of a child, the babe in Bethlehem. Already and for a long time the power of God’s reign has been transforming the universe.
In the midst of a spectacular world and in the midst of a suffering world a child arrived and grew to adulthood. In adulthood, this man named Jesus revealed to a suffering world the very nature of God and began to proclaim that the reign of God was at hand, in fact “it is among you,” he said. Can this alternative world be seen, felt or experienced already?
Maybe it’s not something we can see with a telescope. Maybe it’s something that can only really be seen by the eyes of the mind and heart together. It is the eyes of our minds and heart together after all that reveal to us the places in our universe where the power of love prevails.
Where the power of love prevails, that’s where the universe is already being transformed and the reign of God has already broken into our midst.
However, even if God’s vision for the universe is already among us, it is texts like the one in Luke that remind us that there is more. Thank God there is more. The promise of our scripture texts today is that the Son of Man or the Chosen One will come again to set things right. God’s vision for the world is a world where God through the Chosen One will make things right and love and justice will prevail. And the remarkable power and beauty and wisdom of this vision of God extends all the way from the awesome Crab Nebula to the helpless and vulnerable baby. May God grant us strength and hope in the face of all that is yet to come. Amen
when we begin to anticipate our celebration of the birth of Jesus and the marvellous ability of God to break into our midst in unexpected ways.
As you can see by looking around the sanctuary, the worship committee, specifically through the gifts of Shelley Lepp Fransen and with the banners from Deb Kopeschny and Carolyn Loewen, is trying to depict the magnitude and cosmic significance of God’s vision for the world. This telescope invites us to see with extended vision the magnitude of our spectacular world. This morning I’m going to ask us to focus that telescope and in different places, because what we see depends on where we focus. Let’s begin with our spectacular world. This week on my computer, I saw a remarkable picture of the Crab Nebula, currently one of the most studied objects in the sky, “making it a cosmic icon”, the caption on the picture read. The Crab Nebula is the remains of a star that died in the year 1054 CE. In the image I saw, it shimmers and undulates in fabulous energy rich patterns of red and purple around a more solid blue core.
The images of it that we can see are generally made of composite pictures provided by the Hubble Space telescope, the Spitzer Space telescope and Chandra X-ray imaging. The X-ray data from Chandra provides significant clues to the workings of this mighty cosmic “generator,” which is producing energy at the rate of 100,000 suns.
The images and the very fact of the Crab Nebula give us just one glimpse of God’s vast universe that our telescopes only now allow us to see.
What I also find truly fascinating is that some of the things we see under microscopes are no less impressive or fascinating. God, the creator of the heavens and the stars, our moon, the sun and the planets and the earth and every creature on the face of the earth, this God, has a vision for beauty and intricacy that we human creatures can only begin to grasp. The spectacular beauty and intricacy of our world is one place to focus the telescope. But there are other places we need to focus our telescope this morning. Let’s turn the telescope and focus on what humanity has done and is doing to parts of this great universe. One obvious place to turn the telescope is onto the melting polar ice caps. This is not an easy thing to do. The reality of the melting polar ice caps which have become the symbolic representation for many climate change issues may cause us to wonder; what have we done? What are we doing?
Some days I give my son a ride to school. A couple of times in the past month as we’ve headed out of the driveway, I’ve said to him, “hmm, beautiful day again, a bit unusual for November though.” And his response both times was, “Yeah, its climate change, mom.” And I cringe as we add our fossil fuelled un-renewably energized car to the neighbourhood school rush hour.
As a friend and I were talking briefly about the upcoming climate change summit in Copenhagen where a very large group of world leaders will be meeting in early to mid December to discuss what we have done to create these problems and what we can do now, she said, “you know, the more I hear about the scenarios for what the possible outcomes for our planet will be, the more I don’t want to hear about them.”
There is no question that this is a hard place to look.
Other hard places to look include:
– the pictures in the Toronto Star yesterday from a war photographer stationed in Afghanistan
– the men and women, old and young on the street corners of our cities asking for loose change, in the rain, in the wind, in the cold.
– the significant differences everywhere in the world between those who have too much and those who have too little.
But we are invited by our scriptures today to look fearlessly at these things.
Our scripture texts today – Jeremiah and Luke don’t hesitate to turn the telescope and the microscope on the hard to look places. They don’t shrink from that task.
In Jeremiah, a few verses before the verses for today we hear about the desolation of the towns of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem. The towns and the streets are deserted, inhabited by neither men nor animals.
In Luke, we hear of “nations rising against nations, and empires against empires. There will be great earthquakes, plagues and famines in various places – and in the sky there will be frightening omens and great signs ..and a few verses later, it says, signs will appear in the sun, the moon and the stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish, distraught at the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the earth. The powers in the heavens will be shaken.
This passage in Luke in particular is called apocalyptic literature. The word “apocalypse” means lifting of the veil or revelation and apocalyptic texts are often concerned with the end of things as we know them – that’s eschatology. These apocalyptic passages are found a few places in our Bible, most notably in Daniel, here in the gospels in these words of Jesus, a few places in the letters of Paul and in the book of Revelation.
There are many peop
le who spend a great deal of their time and energy fixated on these apocalyptic passages trying to describe in minute detail what they mean and how they connect to the specifics in the world that we know.
Books are written on the topic, such as by Emanuel Swedenborg’s , Apocalypse Revealed, first published in two volumes in 1766, and more recently , “The Revelation Record” by Henry M. Morris.[50] As well there are TV shows like the Left Behind series that depicts one view of what the end of this age will look like. These are just a few of the examples of places one could focus the telescope.
But what if we put the telescopes away? Do we really need expanded or focused sight to understand what these passages in Jeremiah and Luke are trying to convey to us? I would like to suggest that we don’t need that kind of assistance. What Luke in particular is trying to tell us is that what we need to know will be obvious if we are watchful. What we need to know is as observable and predictable as the budding of the leaves on a tree. When we see the buds on the tree we know summer is near. When we see all these things happening, Jesus says, we will know that the reign of God is near.
Even so, even if we can easily observe “all these things” what might we do with all the fearsome warnings that a text like this one presents? It talks about things that are only too real for us, plagues, read – pandemics, famines, earthquakes, wars and rumours of wars.
Should we be overwhelmed, terrified, despairing?
As I was talking with this friend of mine who told me that she no longer wants to hear about the negative scenarios climate change scientists have outlined for our planet, she paused and said, “you know, maybe the world as we know it should end.”
She didn’t say this with fear, or despair, or even resignation, but what I heard in her voice was a quiet realization mixed with a twinge of hope that there truly must be a greater vision, a greater reality beyond what we humans have so far realized or might be capable of realizing.
This greater vision or greater reality, according to our texts for today will come and it will break in upon us.
In terms of our possible response, I like what preacher Fred Craddock has to say about this kind of eschatological thinking.
He says,
Eschatological thinking is vital to faithful conduct and to hope which resists cynicism. There will be an end to life as it now is, an end that comes as both judgment and redemption. Whether, we go or [Christ] comes, personal theological preferences do not alter eschatology, and contemplation of that fact should have some sanctifying influence … such thinking should aid us in keeping gains and losses in proper perspective. Such thinking should chase away the demons of dulling dissipation and cheer us with the news not only that today is a gift of God but also that tomorrow we stand in the presence of the Son of man. Hmm, this eschatological vision is hope-filled, the kind of hope that gives us the kind of perspective that allows us to see both the gift of this day and that everything that is not a gift will be transformed.
This kind of eschatological vision also inspires us to keep alert and do what we can in the meantime.
If we put the telescope away, grateful, of course, for all that it has been able to show us, we are invited to see that eschatology,
God’s vision for our universe,
God’s great and cosmic vision for our universe,
God’s reign as it breaks into our universe,
has already come in an unexpected way, even as we await something more.
God’s reign broke into our midst a long time ago in the form of a child, the babe in Bethlehem. Already and for a long time the power of God’s reign has been transforming the universe.
In the midst of a spectacular world and in the midst of a suffering world a child arrived and grew to adulthood. In adulthood, this man named Jesus revealed to a suffering world the very nature of God and began to proclaim that the reign of God was at hand, in fact “it is among you,” he said. Can this alternative world be seen, felt or experienced already?
Maybe it’s not something we can see with a telescope. Maybe it’s something that can only really be seen by the eyes of the mind and heart together. It is the eyes of our minds and heart together after all that reveal to us the places in our universe where the power of love prevails.
Where the power of love prevails, that’s where the universe is already being transformed and the reign of God has already broken into our midst.
However, even if God’s vision for the universe is already among us, it is texts like the one in Luke that remind us that there is more. Thank God there is more. The promise of our scripture texts today is that the Son of Man or the Chosen One will come again to set things right. God’s vision for the world is a world where God through the Chosen One will make things right and love and justice will prevail. And the remarkable power and beauty and wisdom of this vision of God extends all the way from the awesome Crab Nebula to the helpless and vulnerable baby. May God grant us strength and hope in the face of all that is yet to come. Amen