First Advent
Mark 13: 24-37, Isaiah 64:1-9
When I hear this passage in Mark, the second half of his mini-apocalypse, I find I have to unwrap several layers of questions, or interpretations or understandings in order to hear anything at all from the text.
I’ll begin descriptively and then we’ll ask some questions of the text. Mark chapter 13 is different from the rest of the gospel because it is as I’ve said a mini-apocalypse and so it is a different literary genre than what has preceded it and what follows. Other than the first two verses of this chapter, which form an introduction and give it context, the rest echoes traditional prophetic portrayals of God’s coming in judgment at an end time similar to what has been described earlier in Isaiah, Ezekiel, Joel and Daniel and anticipates some of what we hear in The Revelation to John.
And so one of the first layers of understanding we want to unwrap in order to hear what it says is the relationship of this text to these other apocalyptic texts. An apocalypse as many of you know is a revelation. And so like others before and after it this passage is trying to reveal something of the end or in theological language, the eschaton, when God through the “son of man, his messenger, or the Christ will break into history in a decisive way to bring history to a conclusion with an ultimate and complete execution of salvation and judgment.
Descriptions of suffering are common in apocalyptic literature as are descriptions of a vast altering of the natural world. For example, as described here in Mark, “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.” Words like these are common to most apocalyptic literature and refer as much to the powers and principalities as they do to the actual sun, moon and stars.
I think that’s why it’s also common to misunderstand the word apocalyptic. In popular discussion, apocalyptic seems to mean cataclysmic, but it really simply means to “reveal.”
And this brings me to the second layer of understanding that I would like to unwrap from this text and that is what it is trying to reveal and how well does it do that. At the beginning of Mark, the disciples comment on the wonders of the architecture of the temple, what large stones and what large buildings and they are right – even today, the parts of that ancient temple that have been excavated are a wonder to behold. In response, Jesus tells them that not one of these stones will be left upon another; but all will be thrown down. When the disciples were once again with Jesus privately they asked him, “when will this be, and what are the signs?” These two questions, when and what are the signs presumably should not be too difficult to answer, and yet Jesus’ response in the form of this mini-apocalypse seems to hide as much as it reveals.
Without question the “when” will not be answered definitively, for he says, “about that time, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. And when giving them a sign, Jesus uses the image of the fig tree. “From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch become tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates.” Even what “these things” refre to is quite obscure in this passage. A lot of time and energy has been spent and ink spilled on interpreting what this somewhat obscure image meant then and means for us now. First let’s look at its original context. Jesus lived and died in Galilee and Judea before the Jewish revolt of AD 70 when the Romans in fact destroyed the temple. The gospel of Mark became a book as we know it after the destruction of the temple and after many of the sufferings that Jesus predicts in this text had taken place. The Markan community may have remembered Jesus’ words about these things. In an oral culture and tradition this makes sense, but were his words only about these events, or the likelihood of these events? When he talks about the sun and moon and the powers shaking in the heavens one gets the impression and rightly so that the horizon for these events goes beyond the sufferings that the Markan community already may have experienced. That there is still some further act of completion or end to come seems clear enough. It is this sense of meaning or the horizon that goes beyond these texts that keeps modern day readers and interpreters also wondering about these signs – wars and rumours of wars, famine, etcetera when will we know if the budding on the fig tree that happens year after year is the growth on the tree that will point to the end? If much is still obscure and timing cannot be known, what is being revealed? This question brings me to the next layer to unwrap.
As with many passages there can be more than one interpretation or way that a text is used. And this one has been “used” in many ways. When I come to this passage it is hard for me to hear past the “fear interpretation” I heard as a child and youth, the one where we were encouraged to be afraid of the “end” so that we might make sure we said or did the right things so as to be “saved” and if we were saved then we would be one of the elect who would be gathered to Jesus after at least one of the tribulations. Salvation is important and about more than saying or doing all the right things. But frankly, I found it scary to think of the world as we know it ending. But my life has been a relatively comfortable one and so there are others for whom the end of the world as we know it might not be so scary. But I don’t think that encouraging people to be afraid is a necessary interpretation of this text. Jesus is talking to his disciples in this passage. He is being frank about the realities of suffer
ing and persecution that many Christians have experienced and continue to experience for the sake of the good news of Jesus Christ and he is encouraging them to be wise, to pay attention, to hold on and to watch, assuring them that God will act in a decisive way eventually to make all things right. “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away,” Therefore stay awake and keep watch precisely because you do not know when that time will come but be reassured that the suffering you experience now will not last for ever.
In fact, in the Isaiah passage for today, the Israelite refugees who were carted off to Babylon, the ones who experienced unimaginable suffering during the siege of Jerusalem before their deportation – including starvation, understandably, they longed for God to act decisively in the history of the world. (There are people and nations today who also long for God to act decisively in history.)
And so the Israelites cried out to God to rend the heavens and shake the mountains. This longing for God to act decisively to rend the heavens and shake the mountains, in 64:1 may be instructive for how we understand the mini-apocalypse in Mark. When things are difficult enough, when inequities and injustice and suffering become personal and “something’s got to give” the changes that result can be scary and uncomfortable even if God is in charge of making the changes. And yet what happens when God acts, when God rends the heavens and comes down? What happens when God does awesome deeds that we do not expect? (v.3) or when God begins to work for those who wait for him (as it says in verse 4.) Are those who participate in the Occupy movement and those who support them some of those who wait for God? Is God at work here? And when God acts unexpectedly, what happens when God’s actions dismantle the perceived distance between God and us and we have no choice but to notice that God is acting? The first thing that happens as it says in verse 5 and 6 in Isaiah is that we become aware of our sins – corporate as well as individual. In verse 6, “Before God even our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth and we all fade like the leaves that the autumn winds are blowing away. Before God’s awesome deeds we are exposed and vulnerable and that’s scary, not because we should be scared but because fear is natural before an awesome God. If our covers are torn off in this way it is natural to want to cover up again – to pull some of these layers back on.
And yet, verse 8 says, O Yahweh, You are our Father!
We are the clay and you are our potter. We are all the work of your hand
Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord
and do not remember iniquity forever. Now consider we are all your people.
Today is November 27th, 2011. As we have acknowledged in various ways in our worship today we have entered the time of advent where we await the coming of the Christ Child, the coming of God in an unexpected way.
God’s answer to us,
to our sins,
to our sufferings,
to our awareness that the world is not right
that we have been clothed in unjust systems that make all of us filthy .
When our awareness of these things makes us feel exposed, vulnerable and uncovered, God’s unexpected answer is not to leave us uncovered and vulnerable, but rather to enter the clay or dust of the earth himself in the form of a child – God incarnate.
God enters the same clay with which God created us, wraps that clay in swaddling clothes and in the most unexpected way of all hands the child to us and says, “Here – I have become vulnerable – take care of me. “
And which one of us truly knows what to do with vulnerability?
What parent who is handed a child for the first time is not overcome, momentarily at least, by the magnitude of what has just happened and then in the next moment knows that no matter what,
you will give all of who you are and what you have to the task that lies before you – caring for this little one.
and maybe in an instant, or maybe slowly and gradually you fall in love with this vulnerable one.
And so what does Mark’s mini-apocalypse reveal? First, that we are vulnerable, vulnerable to suffering, injustice, and deep inner longings for a better way and a longing for an end to all that’s wrong. Second, it reveals that we are supposed to pay attention, hold on, watch and stay awake. In our watching and waiting for the time of which we know not, we are called upon to take care of God as God presents God’s very self to us in the least of these –the naked, the hungry and the thirsty and the imprisoned that we were reminded of in the sheep and the goats story last week. Our watching and waiting is wrapped up in our care for those who need it. Will the coming of God be a rending of the heavens, or the “son of man” coming on clouds or will it be over and ove
r again our response to vulnerability in others and in ourselves?
If God does come in the clouds and the heavens are torn open and the sun ceases to shine and the moon no longer reflects its light – we will know, but in the meantime our task is clear – let us keep watch for the unexpected and respond to what we already know – God comes to us in the vulnerable and our most fitting response is to care and to fall in love.