Apocalypse

Blessed Lord,

who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning:

Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, 

that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope

given us in our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

You may have noticed that my sermons are always Scripture based,

         and that I usually focus on the Gospel reading.

I do that on purpose,

         in part, because I have been greatly influenced by the Collect for today.

 

Growing up in the Episcopal Church I wasn’t always taught much 

                  about what was IN the Bible, 

but this ancient collect from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer 

         was held up as our ideal for how to regard the Bible.

 

Hear, read, mark, learn and inwardly digest.

In other words, 

         go at it with thorough intent until it becomes a part of you.

 

Personally I first seriously took that on in my life 

         when I had an experience as a child 

                  attending a friend’s church of a different denomination 

         for their summer vacation Bible school, 

         where everyone but me knew the story about the Good Samaritan.

We were going to act out the parable, and no one wanted to be the priest.  But I thought the priest must be a good guy, so I volunteered, 

         only to discover that the priest was one of those 

                  who walked away from the person so desperately in need.  

That embarrassment was the beginning point for a deep dive

         into the whole of the Bible.

Whatever it takes to prod us, we all need to 

         hear, read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the words of Scripture.

 

So THIS Gospel reading for today.

         We get just the first 8 verses of the Chapter, 

but the rest of chapter goes on and on and on  with a total deconstruction 

         of history and culture and social order and religion, 

                  as well as the created order.

It is apocalyptic to the nth degree.                    Everything comes apart. 

 

And so, would you believe, this is a perfect reading for us today.

 

First of all, its placement in the outline of the Church liturgical calendar is apt.

Next Sunday is the last in this liturgical year, 

         and then we have the beginning of the new year 

                  with the first Sunday in Advent.

So thematically this is part of a bringing to the close of the year, 

                           the end of the story, 

         with next Sunday a supposed glorious climax 

                                                      with the theme of Christ the King.

However, NOT the glory of any worldly reigning monarch.

 

The Kingdom, the Reign of God, looks quite different.

         In the Kingdom of Heaven the first shall be last and the last first.

         The King is crucified and reigns from the cross.

         The Lion lays down with the Lamb and becomes a vegetarian.

         And the Good News is for the poor,

                  and for release of captives and recovery of sight to the blind,

                  and liberty for those who are oppressed.

 

This Gospel passage for today ends with the words:

         “These are the beginning of birth-pangs.”

 

All the deconstruction, the decomposition, the falling apart and coming undone 

         are part of the process necessary for something new to be born, 

                  to come into being, 

                  to emerge from the chaotic ruble.

These are not the birth-pangs for a devastation 

                                    of political or military upheaval or destruction,

         but for something new and entirely different.

And what is to be born is not at all like what has come before.

         If we just try to repair and reconstruct what has been there before,                            we will have missed the point 

                  and the great opportunity that apocalypse offers us.

 

Let’s take this out of the upper atmosphere 

         and bring it down to earth into today, here in the present.

Did you notice that we just came through an election 

                  that had a lot of anxiety hovering over it?

Did you notice that 

                  although some may have breathed a sigh of relief 

                  and others felt the depths of grief, 

         that, for the most part, life went on as it had and as it will.

Lessons are learned and plans for going forward are taking place.

Where will each of us engage in the world around us,

         and how will our faith inform our words and actions?

That is the same question we faced prior to the election.

 

But notice this in the Gospel reading:

         The disciples were gawking at the magnificent temple in Jerusalem.

It was the biggest and most impressive structure in the whole country.

It was the center of their faith and religious observances.

It was the place of all their religious functions.

It was their very identity as a people.

And it was all going to come down – not one stone left on stone.

 

The Christian Church today as an institution is fragmented,

         and has been for centuries.

The word Christian has been compromised.

It has been compromised by using it 

         as an adjective to describe a political form of exclusion.

         I’ll say it out loud: Christian Nationalism.

The word Christian for too many people is associated with 

         doctrines that judge and condemn 

                  others who do not believe the same doctrines, 

                  others who do not live life styles that fit a constrained moral law, 

The word Christian is sometimes associated with places of worship 

         where abuses of various forms were actually harbored .

Think boarding schools for indigenous children taken from their parents,          sexual misconduct by those who had been trusted faith leaders,          suppression of women or those of other races, 

         judgment and exclusion of anyone deviating from binary sexual identity.  

Do I need to go on?

There are some members who have come to this church –

         this denomination and this particular congregation – 

         from places where they no longer felt that they fit or were welcome.

 

And indeed, ever since the pandemic gave all the churches 

                  a good kick in the attendance records, 

         we have had to REALLY look at who we are 

                  and what is our purpose 

                  and what is our mission 

                  and what makes us real and relevant in the world today 

         so that we can come here and be welcomed, nourished, 

and equipped to face the world as it is outside this space of religious comfort.

The apocalypse is a deconstruction, 

                  an intentional disordering of the way things have been,

         so that there can be a re-ordering of the way we do church,

                           of the way we are church,

         so that we become more solidly grounded in our faith,

                  in our prayers, in our actions, 

                  and in the ways we love one another.

 

I love that what you have done here is to pitch in together

         and how you did a massive house cleaning of those rooms downstairs.

You actually put into action through that very concrete and tangible work

         what needed to be done in order to shift how you define yourselves

                           as a faith community.

It wasn’t just de-cluttering, but also creating an open space 

         for the Holy Spirit to move among you.

What you did is a metaphor for what needs to happen spiritually 

         for the community and for each of you individually.

Well done!

 

And don’t stop.

See and accept the grace and mercy and love given eternally to you.

And then live that grace and love and mercy,

         and in serving others pass on the love, mercy and grace                  

                in a world that really needs it now.