4 Advent
Luke 1:39-55   

As many of you know, we are expecting our first grandchild in the coming months. When our daughter recently visited us she and Kathy talked much about babies and pregnancy. I found things to do in the garden!

It is not that I am not interested in such things as ultrasounds, babies kicking, birthing plans and the latest ideas on infant nutrition. It is simply that after an hour or two, I feel the subject has been thoroughly covered!

And if two expectant mothers meet up, you can be certain that the politics and the weather will never come up.

The story in today’s gospel is such a story. It is a story of two expectant mothers, meeting up. They are cousins.

And neither one of them expected to be expecting.

Elizabeth is the oldest woman anyone had ever heard of having a baby. She is probably in her sixties. She and her husband Zechariah had stopped hoping and praying for a baby decades ago. Her pregnancy is, in fact, so improbable that her joy is also tinted with embarrassment. The women of her village surely will think she is not actually pregnant. Perhaps she has a tumour or growth. So she secludes herself in her home. She stays out of public sight – until there can be no doubt that she actually is expecting a baby.

And Mary? Well, if her cousin Elizabeth is the oldest woman in the land who is expecting, Mary is certainly among the very youngest. She is still a teenager. She has been engaged but not yet married.

And if Elizabeth’s pregnancy is improbable, then Mary’s is impossible.

She is not married. She has not known a man. She is still a virgin. But, of course, no one is going to believe that story. So she, too, wants to stay out of the public view in her village. The trip to her cousin Elizabeth’s home, about two day’s travel away, is a good excuse to be away for a few months.

And there is something else unusual about these two pregnancies.

Both had been announced by an angel.

An angel had appeared to Elizabeth’s husband Zechariah when he was in the temple in Jerusalem serving as one of the priests. When the angel tells him that their prayers for a baby had been answered he could have forgiven for thinking that the prayers of he and his wife, or perhaps God’s response, had gotten lost in the divine post. That was decades ago. They had not prayed for a baby in many years. Nonetheless, the angel told Zechariah that he and his wife Elizabeth would have great joy in the birth of a son and that many others would rejoice as his birth as he would do great things in the sight of the Lord because the spirit of Elijah would be upon him. For a first century Jew, and one trained in the scriptures as Zechariah was, there was little doubt what the angel was saying. His son was going to be the forerunner who prepares the way for the Messiah.

When Zechariah pointed out that his age and the age of his wife made this, well, rather improbable, and asked for a sign, the angel responded sternly. The angel announced that he was not just any angel, but the archangel Gabriel who stands regularly in the presence of the Almighty. There was no mistake about the message. And if Zechariah wanted a sign, he would have one. He would not be able to speak a word until his son was born!

When he returned home, we imagine that through a series of signs, gestures and writing he got the whole story out to Elizabeth. And sure enough, just as the archangel had said, Elizabeth became pregnant.

But the archangel Gabriel was not done with his tasks. Six months later he had another visit to make, and another announcement. This time in a village in Galilee. There he came to a young girl named Mary. He told this young girl that even though she was not yet married she was going to have a son, and that she should call him Jesus, for he would be great and would rescue his people and would be called the Son of the Most High.

Like Zechariah, Mary also had questions. Perhaps by this point Gabriel was thinking, ‘Why can’t they simply believe what I tell them.’ But perhaps after the experience with Zechariah he was expecting questions. And the most obvious was this: ‘How can this be,’ asked Mary, ‘since I am a virgin?’ It was a perfectly reasonable question.

And Gabriel goes easier on Mary than he did on Zechariah, who as a trained priest serving in the temple should, after all, have known better than to ask God to ‘prove it’.

The sign Gabriel gives Mary was that of her cousin Elizabeth. He told Mary that even though her cousin was now an old woman, and well past her child-bearing years, she was in fact six months pregnant.

So the angel leaves and Mary hurries to visit Elizabeth.

So Luke’s Gospel begins with a double annunciation, two stories with the Archangel Gabriel announcing the birth of a very important child. This is then followed by two birth stories. The account of the birth of John the Baptist to Elizabeth and Zechariah is followed by the more famous story of the birth of Jesus.

But in between these two stories we have the meeting of the two unexpectedly expectant mothers.

Apart from Zechariah and Joseph, they are the only ones who know what God is about to do. And while it is not yet clear what Zachariah or Joseph are thinking at this point, it is clear that both Elizabeth and Mary not only understand what God had promised, but they believe it.

God had promised that both births would bring joy, and joy is certainly the dominant feeling when the two women meet.

We are told that the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leapt for joy when Mary came to her door. Elzabeth took this as a sign that this was the Messiah for whom her son would be preparing the way.

And, filled with the Spirit, she speaks: ‘Why have I had this honour, that the mother of my Lord should come to visit me? For as soon as I heard your voice the child in my womb leapt for joy. Blessed is she who believed that the prophecy of what has been promised by God would be fulfilled.’

Now, it would seem that there must have been some conversation between Mary and Elizabeth before these words are spoken, for Elizabeth knows of the message to Mary and Mary’s response to it. And she immediately confesses faith in Messiah, her Lord, who is still early in his first trimester. Talk about getting in early to confess faith in Jesus!

Then we have the famous response of Mary, called Mary’s Song, or the Magnificat, after the opening words of the song.

Every Jew, and certainly every Jewish woman, would have immediately recognized echoes of the song of Hannah, mother of the prophet Samuel.

Hannah had prayed to God asking that he look upon his lowly handmaiden with favour, in words virtually identical to those of Mary. And Hannah begins her song with ‘My heart exults in the Lord, my strength is exalted in my God.’  It was a favorite story and song of Jewish women.

And Mary would have known the song well, and in her excitement at the confirmation of the angels announcement through Elizabeth she responds with humility and praise. She responds with joy.

And the joy is not just for her. In a series of couplets, in Hebrew style, with echoes of not just of Hannah’s song, but of many of the Psalms, Mary lists the many ways God is about to turn things upside down. The lowly will be lifted up, with the haughty will be brought low, the hungry will be fed and the rich will go away empty.

God is not just coming into the world to make a show of things. God is coming into the world to change things.

And her song ends with praise of God who remembers his people and who shows mercy.

After this Mary remains with Elizabeth for three months. We are not told if she leaves just before the birth of John or just after. Luke does not want the stories confused, stories he certainly has gotten from Mary herself. The interlude of the meeting of the two expectant mothers has taken place. It is time for Mary, now clearly starting to show her own pregnancy, to return home and bear the weight of the gossips. And it is time for Elizabeth to give birth and for Zechariah to finally be able to speak.

The nativity narratives are about the move from birth announcements, to the story of two births.

But we should not pass over this meeting of the two expectant mothers in the midst of these accounts too hastily. For it is here that the mothers take centre stage. It is here that they both have a voice. It Is here that, taking comfort in one another’s company, and comparing their stories, they both confess an unwavering faith in God and in what he is about to do.

It is here that perhaps the only two people on earth who not only know what God is about to do, but really believe God is about to do it, come together.

And their mood? It is not one of fear or apprehension, but of pure joy.

Elizabeth and Mary know what God is about to do. They are preparing to give birth. And they are also preparing for the dawn of a new age.

And they are both overjoyed. They are the first to feel this joy. But they will not be the last. The joy at what God has done and continues to do through coming among us in human flesh continues to reverberate in our own time and in our own lives.

How do we prepare for Christmas? How to we prepare for the coming of God in flesh among us?

With only a few days left before Christmas we might be thinking of the shopping we need to do, the presents left to buy, the travel arrangement to make, the cards to send. But in the midst of everything else there is really only one way to prepare for Christmas, for the celebration of the birth of Jesus, of God among us. And that is the way that Elizabeth and Mary have shown us.

We prepare with hope, love, peace and joy, just as they did. For it is hope, love, peace and joy that God has brought into the world and into our hearts through the birth of Jesus. Any other response misses the point of Christmas.
Amen.
Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

 

Text: Luke 3:7-18
Advent 3.

 

When families contact the church to enquire about baptism, we don’t tend to respond like John the Baptist did to those who came enquiring about his baptism in the wilderness. He called them ‘a brood of vipers and asked,  Who warned them to flee from the coming wrath? We usually just say “Would you like to get together and talk about it?” 

But John is different. His baptism is different, his approach is different. I wonder why? 

Why the confronting language? The brood of vipers, the wrath of God, the axe lying at the root of the trees, the winnowing fork, the chaff being burnt.  What’s John doing? What’s he driving at?   Today we consider –

The warning
The way and
The welcome
by which he seeks to call and draw and gather people back home to God.

The warning, the way, and the welcome.   

First, the warning. You’ve already heard part of it but John goes on to tell the crowd to “produce fruit in-keeping with repentance.” He says: “…do not begin to say to yourselves: ‘We have Abraham as our father’ for I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham.”

Some of these folks who came to John in the wilderness were there under false pretences.  They didn’t think they needed John or his Baptism of repentance. They didn’t think their lives needed challenging or changing in anyway. They felt secure in knowing they were descendants of Abraham.  They were from good stock, which they believed gave them a place of privilege and superiority over others.

John’s warning is a warning against pride and self-importance. Things we are all susceptible to when we think too highly of ourselves and not highly enough of others. John the Baptist is helpful because he gives us a different perspective: an outside perspective on what really needs chopping and changing in our lives, if we do want to turn back to God.   

Imagine driving along in your car and you think everything is fine. You have the radio on, the air conditioner on, the petrol tank is full because you saw it a week or so ago at a bargain price, and you filled up. So you’re pretty pleased with yourself.

All seems well…but then someone drives up alongside you and they are yelling at you insistently to wind down the window, trying to tell you you’ve got a flat tyre. Or your boot’s open. Or your engine is on fire, or something. Now you’d be crazy to say “Ah they don’t know what they’re talking about—it looks fine from in here. There’s no problem from my perspective from where I sit things look great.”

Surely you’d listen to the person outside the car because they see things you don’t.

John is like this, he brings an outside perspective; an outside voice; an unconventional approach. But we ignore him at our peril, we remain proud and smug and self-important at our peril. Turn around John says; turn around to see that God has more for you than just you! That is his warning.

What about his way? How does he go about it? John’s message has this great levelling effect. The valleys are filled in, the mountains are made low. The crooked roads become straight and the rough ways become smooth.  He brings down the proud and lifts up the humble. And some of the proud do wake up to this fact, and they ask him this question, “What should we do then?” What is the fruit of repentance? How should our lives change? When we turn to God, when we are baptised, when we do trust him, what changes should that bring?

John explains to them very practically and very ethically how it looks in each of their situations, and he says for those who have plenty it looks generous, it looks like sharing, it looks like not being too attached to worldly possessions.  It looks like giving things away, not just our old things that we don’t want any more. But maybe new things too.

“Anyone who has two shirts” John says, “should share with the one who has none and anyone who has food should do the same.” Most of us have far more in our pantries and in our wardrobes than we really need, and John says turning to God involves turning away from being solely interested in our own needs, and turning towards the needs of others. Turning away from greed, turning towards generosity.

The tax collectors ask “What about us” and John encourages them: be fair and equitable. Don’t rip people off don’t take more than you should.  Don’t be dishonest on your tax returns. The soldiers asked “What about us?” and John replies: “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely. Be content with your pay”. They’re called to not be harsh with people to not accuse people and to be content with what they earn.

That’s a good one for all of us to learn to be satisfied to be content. The surveys show that most of us, when asked how much money it would it take for us to feel truly secure and be truly happy, respond by saying “Just a little bit more than we have, not too much more, but a little more would be nice.”  John encourages us to learn to be satisfied, to learn to be content as a way of living out repentance and living out our baptism.  And for each person in each station and each vocation it looks slightly different.

But the point is that the way of John puts us all on a level playing field and calls us all to be deeply aware of the needs of others on that playing field.  What opportunities might we find to do that as Christmas approaches and we witness to family, friends or strangers in need.

At this point the crowds are starting to wonder about, John. Who is this guy?  And they wonder if he may in fact be the Messiah, the way he talked, the fire in his belly, the authority in his voice, the commitment to God.  But he quickly set them straight on that count.  John answered them all: “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire”.

John’s ministry was always preliminary and always intended to give way to the ministry of Christ.  John’s was a baptism of repentance, Jesus’ was a baptism of the Spirit. John’s was a message of law, Jesus’ was especially a message of grace. John told us not to trust in ourselves. Jesus gave us something better in which we can trust, the mercy of God, the forgiveness of sins, the healing of our hurts.

Together John and Jesus sing a beautiful duet; the law and the gospel, music to our ears.  Together they show us how far away from home we have strayed, how urgent it is that we turn back and how ready God is to welcome us back when we come like the prodigal son.  We read in Zephaniah that the Lord says: “At that time I will gather you, at that time I will bring you home.” Coming home to God Is a beautiful thing, a joyful thing, a wonderful thing.

We were welcomed into God’s home and family through our baptism.  We might not remember it. We might not think about it on a daily basis. But that doesn’t make it unimportant or change the reality of what God did. At our baptism a relationship was established between you and your heavenly Father and you were welcomed into his home.

May God fill you with the promise and joy of coming home to him in this Advent season.

Amen.

On this second Sunday of Advent, which season of the Christian year consists of the five Sundays leading to Christmas Day, the Gospel and the Epistle forcefully remind us of the meaning of Advent. It literally means ‘Coming’. While Advent speaks to us of Christ’s coming as the promised Messiah of Israel it speaks to us today of the Lordship of Christ as the coming Revealer of His kingdom as the Lord of all future time.

The exhortation to watchfulness in the lessons from the gospel for today is an exhortation not to take God’s grace for granted. We are not to think that the fulfilment of God’s purpose is an automatic process and that some how or other we are on the winners’ side because of who and what the church or we are. The kingdom will come as a thief in the night precisely because it is God’s free and unmerited gift. And that day will bring many surprises.

Until we appreciate this background to the account of John the Baptist’s preaching and his subsequent baptism of Jesus in the Jordan river, we will find it difficult to understand John’s preaching as ‘good news’. Who of us would regard what he has to say as decisively helpful in understanding our relationship to God. Who of us are helped by the knowledge that the truth of our life before God and each other in the final analysis depends upon the depth and truth of our repentance. John proclaimed to the people who came to hear him that they should repent in the light of the immanent appearance of God’s righteous judgement; the coming of God’s kingdom.

If we are tempted to think that John’s preaching of the coming judgement was directed at those who may be thought to be concerned only with outward works of righteousness rather than inward motivation of the heart,(the traditional examples being the Scribes and the Pharisees for whom John did indeed reserve some very special criticism in the other accounts of his preaching in the gospels: Mat 3:7  But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?) This view only intensifies the problem of John’s preaching for us. For who can be sure of the motives of any of our actions done or left undone? We know that the motives of our actions are at best mixed and at worst an expression of our preoccupation with our own self-interest. This was an intense problem for Martin Luther, alone with God in his monastery cell. How do I know that I have repented enough to receive the grace promised in the Eucharist.

He kept his vow to, “Help me, Saint Anne. I will become a monk.” only 15 days later July 17th, 1505. There were seven monasteries in Erfurt. He joined the most rigorous one. It was the Augustinian order of friars. He was 21 years old, and he had a singular focus on saving his soul.

    “If I could believe that God was not angry with me, I would stand on my head for joy. When I was a monk, I wearied myself greatly for almost 15 years with daily sacrifice, torturing myself with fasting’s and vigils and prayers and rigorous works, like self-freezing, not having any blankets, and I almost froze myself to death, earnestly thinking to acquire righteousness by my works.”

His problem is shown by Freud and others to be a universal problem of human consciousness. Freud called the boiling cauldron of our unconsciousness the Id and we spend our life attempting to put a lid on the id of our unconscious mind. This causes all sorts of neurosis by which we attempt to deceive ourselves about the reality of our thoughts about ourselves and others. Luther thought he could solve this problem by some drastic measures, such as by freezing himself in the snow or by  flagellation, beating himself with a whip. All to no avail for him he remained his miserable self.

To transfer the source of repentance from outward actions to inward motives only intensifies the problems created in attempting to understand John’s preaching of repentance as “good news”. His proclamation of repentance for the forgiveness of sins in the light of the coming judgement is extremely “bad news’ for all who hear his words. For none can come and stand before the judgement seat of God confident that the truth of their life can be understood as grounded in our capacity to repent. We all know what the prophet Jeremiah knew and Sigmund Freud confirmed for us, that the human:

(Jer 17:9) “the heart is deceitful above all things; and desperately corrupt– who can understand it?”

But when we reach this rather melancholy conclusion concerning the medium and the message of John the Baptist, we must remember that we have left out of consideration the one vital factor which enables John’s preaching of repentance to be heard as exceedingly ‘good news’ and not ‘bad news’ at all in this time of Advent.

This factor is the presence in the crowd who came to hear John preach of the one-man Jesus of Nazareth. With the rest of the people, He heard John’s exhortations in view the coming judgement; with them he had himself baptised in the Jordan; with them he received a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

The good news in the Baptists proclamation and action is this unheard-of action of Jesus, the Holy Son of God who though He knew no sin, by His action in accepting at the hand of John the Baptist a Baptism for the forgiveness of sins, He begins his public ministry by declaring His solidarity with sinners. No one came to the Jordan that day to hear John’s call for repentance more laden with sin and guilt than He, no one needier before God than he. He who is God’s Son. He who is different from all other people, in the inexplicable freedom of His grace negated the distance between Himself and all other people by becoming in His Baptism wholly one with us: not in our holiness in our alienation and estrangement from God and each other. He does this by receiving from John the Baptist a Baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin.

In St Matthew’s gospel it is precisely this anomaly, this scandal, of which John the Baptist becomes acutely aware. He says to Jesus that that it is he, John, who needs to be baptised by him, Jesus, rather than the other way around. But against John’s protest at the contradiction involved in Jesus “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” Jesus insists upon John baptizing Him with this baptism “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins”. Because Jesus insists by receiving such a baptism, “We fulfil all righteousness.” Here we must understand that Jesus fulfils “all righteousness”, by placing himself in the wrong. He does what is right by placing himself in the wrong before God, for the sake of all those whom He now represents who stand in need of repentance, for all sinners, for all of us.

So, when Jesus is baptised by John with a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin in the light of the coming judgement of God it is not of His own sin that he repents and confesses. It is the people’s burden of guilt with which He identifies Himself as He goes down into the water of Baptism: as He receives John’s Baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

Precisely because He is the One who in this strange way identifies Himself with us, with our human alienated condition He is also the One, the only One who embraces the coming judgement of God; since He now embarks upon a public ministry through which He more and more becomes entangled in the godfosakenness of our human lot. Until at the end of His life He fulfils His strange journey into the far country of our alienation from God by crying out after his declaration of godforsakenness, τετέλεσται “tetalestai” “It is finished”. The glory of God, of which at Christmas we hear the angels sing, heralding Jesus’ birth, this glory is the glory of the humility of God. A God who does not count it too small a thing to declare His unity and solidarity with sinners. God’s glory is revealed here, as is made plain in the holy gospel of St John and the 17th chapter, as Jesus treads the ever-descending path of humiliation to the cross. It is in the cross that the unity of will and purpose of the Father the Son and the Holy Spirit is revealed: And it consists in this: the mysterious delivering up of the Son by the Father together with the giving up of the Father by the Son for the sake of the threatened and lost human creature.

In this way also we come to see how appropriate it is that we understand the call to repentance by John the Baptist in the light of the coming judgement of God to be wholly good news. In the light of Jesus action in submitting to this Baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins John becomes a harbinger, a witness, to the advent of the salvation of our God. A true messenger of the light that has dawned and shines upon us all. That light which St John the Evangelist tells us, in the first chapter of his gospel, which, “enlightens every person who comes into the world.” For in Christ our humanity has been restored to its wholeness in relationship to God and our fellow human beings and it is this restored humanity of Christ which is offered to us as the truth of our life as through the waters of our own Baptism as we are incorporated into membership of the very Body of Christ, His church, of which He is the heavenly Head.

As in the beginning God brought forth a cosmos out of the primeval chaos by means of His Word and Spirit, whom St Irenaeus calls the two hands of God: as in the beginning God triumphed over all that was opposed to the creature’s existence and brought life out of darkness and disorder, safeguarded the life of the creature from the encroachment of chaos, so here in the recreation of the creature God’s act of reconciliation is wrought by His Word and Spirit out of the water of Jesus baptism.

His descent into the waters of baptism signal Jesus’ descent into the watery chaos from which God called forth the cosmos. Here this chaos is identified. In Jesus condescension it is seen to reside in humankind’s alienation from God. In his baptism Jesus makes himself one with our rebellion by receiving at the hand of John a baptism of repentance: he who knew no sin, who is ever one with the Father, makes himself vulnerable for the sake of the creature, identifies himself with its existence. Threatened as it is by the impending abyss of nothingness to which it has committed itself in its grasping after the futile possibility of being its own saviour and helper: its rejection of grace.

Instead of our human lives crumbling away into meaninglessness of what Shakespeare calls our “dusty death.” Jesus gives to our human life it’s created meaning and purpose. As the risen and ascended One, the Victor of Gethsemane and Golgotha, He gives us nothing less than Himself and all that is His by means of His Word and sacraments: He promises Himself to us; He gives us back our true human being, restored in reconciled fellowship with God and each other.

Dr. Gordon watson.
Port Macquarie.

1 Advent 2024
Luke 21:25-36

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. ²⁶ People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. ²⁷ Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. ²⁸ Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Luke 21:25-28

These words of Jesus are meant as a clear reference a famous messianic prophecy in Daniel 7:13-14. Significantly, the text in Daniel is associated with and often read at Christ the King Sunday, the last Sunday of the church year, which was last week. It is a text about the enthronement of the Messiah. This is what the text in Daniel says:

“I saw one like a son of man coming with the clouds of heaven. And he came to the Ancient One and was presented before him. To him was given dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.”

Jesus can talk of his return with great power and glory on the clouds on the basis of his enthronement as king. Jesus’ words in the Gospel reading for this first Sunday in Advent, and the text from Daniel chapter 7, tie the church year together. We finished with a reminder and celebration of Jesus as King. Now, we begin the new church year with a reminder that this king, the Son of Man, will return to earth, just as he has ascended into his heavenly throne.

And that is what Advent is about. It is about expectation and preparation for the coming of Jesus. And it is about expectation and preparation for both of his comings to earth. It is about preparation for Christmas, for his coming to us in flesh. And it is about his coming again in power and kingly glory. Both themes run through our Advent season, and so we find what seems to us this strange mix of Bible readings, songs and prayers that both anticipate Christmas and the end times.

But that is Advent. It is a preparation for celebrating God’s first sojourn among us, beginning with the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. And it is equally a preparation for his coming again in power and glory.

As a text focusing on the second coming (or coming again) of Jesus, the text in today’s Gospel reading carries the usual aura of apprehension and even fear at what is to come. We have signs in the heavens (appropriate for one returning from the heavens) as well as the seas. The heavens and earth will be shaken and there will be much anxiety and even panic about what is coming. We are told to be alert for these signs. To be prepared. Because Jesus coming will catch many off guard and unaware. And we are told that when these signs begin to appear, the generation of people who see them will not pass before Jesus returns in power and glory to earth.

Many throughout the history of the church have become focused on just what these signs mean. And also the meaning of ‘this generation will not pass away.’ Is it the generation Jesus was speaking to? Some who first heard these words would have thought that. But it seems in context much more likely to mean the generation that sees the signs he is speaking about. And just how long is a generation? Is it 20 years? 40? 60? 100? For those who become obsessed with biblical prophecy and trying to predict the time of Jesus’ return this becomes a big question.

And so also the question about reading the signs in the heavens and the earth. Every time there are special occurrences in the skies, such and comets, eclipses of moon and sun, solar flares, alignment of planets, etc there is another wave of those claiming that these must be the signs Jesus spoke of. And the same with massive storms in the ocean, and especially tsunamis. But the thing is, it has always been this way. Since the time of Jesus (and long before as well) these celestial occurrences have been observed, and there have been massive storms in the seas and tsunamis.

The one thing we know for certain is that everyone in the last two thousand years who has boldly predicted that the signs in the heaven that they observed, for the storms or tsunamis they experienced, are the signs that Jesus was talking about, has been wrong. But that does not stop or give pause to our modern day readers of prophecy who write books and flood the internet with their predictions.

Their ability to so clearly read the signs and to cause great anxiety is a bit like some of the more extreme climate catastrophists among us. There is no doubt that the impact human activity has on climate is a serious issue. But it seems that we cannot have a single hot or cold day, or heat waver or storm without it being a sign of the end. When I was young a heat wave was a heat wave and a storm was a storm. Cyclones, typhoons and hurricanes struct certain parts of the world every year, and there were always massive tornadoes in the American mid-west. But now it seems every weather event is a sign of the end. It is proof positive that climate change is about to bring an end to life as we know it. Some talk as if these things have not occurred before, or are somehow more extreme or common that they were 20, 40, 60 or 100 years ago. Even though both our memories and the records suggest this is not the case. But the reporting of such events has become more alarmist and sensational.

They are always certain that recent and current events are the portent of the end. But then the rains come again, as they always have, the seas calm again, as they always have, the floods subside, as they always have. Life goes until the next dramatic weather event somewhere in the world.

It is the same with the self-appointed readers of biblical prophecy. And the same with the heavenly signs, the roaring of the seas, and also the ‘wars and rumours of wars’ the Bible speaks of. They come and go as they always have. We get back to our routines until the next event or series of events fires up the readers of prophecy and those who read their books and follow their websites become anxious once more.

It is a predictable and sad cycle. But it is not what Jesus intended for his people when he said these words. He wanted us to be watchful, not panicked. He warned that those around us who did not know him and his love would be anxious and frightened about what was coming. Jesus did not mean for us to feel this way.

In fact, quite the opposite. Jesus told us these things that we might have hope, that we might rejoice that he is coming again.

Notice again the words of verse 28, the words so often overlooked by the prophecy readers and the predicters of the end times.  Jesus says, ‘when these things begin to occur, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.’

Notice, Jesus doesn’t say, ‘run and hide.’ He doesn’t say, ‘be very afraid.’ He doesn’t say, ‘be anxious.’ In fact, he says quite the opposite. He tells us that when times are difficult, when we think this must surely be the end, to stand up and lift our heads in anticipation and celebration, because our redemption is near.

To say the least, it is not the reaction one would expect when everyone around us is anxious or in absolute panic. It is not the reaction one would expect if the world as we know it really was coming to an end.

But it is precisely the reaction to be expected from those who know and love Jesus. It the reaction of knowing that the king who is returned in great power and spectacular glory is also coming and the just and loving and forgiving king. The return of Jesus is, first and foremost, the return of our king, and saviour and friend.

When Jesus calls us to stand and lift up our heads instead of being anxious and fearful, he is calling us to hope.

And hope, as it happens, is the traditional theme of this first Sunday in Advent.

Preparing the way for the coming of the Lord. Expecting his return. These things are not about fear and anxiety. They are about hope.

And it is hope not despite of all the signs and turmoil we experience around us. It is hope precisely because of these things.

If all is going well in the world and in my life, then it would be odd for me to be anything other than optimistic about the future. We see this in the regular consumer optimism surveys. When the economy is going well, people are optimistic and have plans for buying, holidaying or staring a new business. When the economy is not going so well, or is forecast to have troubles, then we see the opposite. People are worried and put off any many commitments.

Imagine if we did just the opposite. If we started a new business venture or plans a big holiday when all the economic indicators were bad. Some would say this was simply foolish. Others would call it overly optimistic. Or perhaps we might simply call it hope.

This is similar to what Jesus describes in today’s text. The whole world is anxious and fearful. And not without reason. Yet his followers are to stand and lift their hands in celebration and excitement. That is true hope. It is hope built on the confidence we have in Jesus. That the king who is coming is the king we know to be just and loving and kind. The king we know as our friend, the one who gave his life for us.

Christian hope is about expectation and preparing. But not the kind of fearful expectation and preparing we see in so-called ‘preppers’ getting ready for the end of the world or some impending disaster by barricading themselves in.

Genuine Christian hope is one of joy and peace. It is one that is confident in the coming king when everyone around us is anxious and fearful. And this is true in our individual life journeys just as much as in the journey of world history leading toward the physical return of Jesus as king.

We might feel anxious at reports of wars and cyclones and fires and droughts, but these, unless we are in the midst of them, often seem a safe distance away. But when crisis and trouble strikes close to home, things are very different. When the bad news from the doctor is delivered to us, or someone close to us, it seems like the end of our world. When it is our job that is lost, or our relationship that breaks up, it really does seem like signs that the end is near.

But the message of Advent, the message of the coming kings, calls us to keep our eyes focused on Jesus even at these times. That is true hope. To rejoice and trust in Jesus even when all around us is fear and anxiety. When we can hope and trust in the coming king, not just in the face of far aways signs and portents and troubles, but also in the face of the challenges and troubles we will surely face in life, then we have understood the real meaning not just of Advent, but of hope in our coming king.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.