If you read through the gospels, at some point you are going to run into apocalyptic language – language about wars, earthquakes, plagues and persecutions. It’s in Matthew chapter 24, Mark chapter 13, and here in Luke chapter 21. It is not a subject we enjoy reading about. These passages feel like a paranoid persons’ worst nightmare of a CNN news summary. The apocalyptic language not only triggers images; if you are of a certain age, it may even come with its own soundtrack. Something like this. (Play Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries”) That’s Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries”, which is famous for being used in the helicopter scene from Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 movie “Apocalypse Now.” In that film, the crazed commander had that music blasting out of speakers while a squadron of helicopters strafed and bombed Vietnamese villages. It remains a powerful depiction of the horror, the horror of war, or as Jesus said, of “dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.”
Most of us don’t know what to do with passages like these. Radio preachers seem to thrive on decoding these verses, convincing gullible listeners that the horizon of the end of the world is in sight. These charlatans seem indifferent to the fact that in the exact same passage, Jesus says we are to beware of false teachers who tell us “The end-time is near!” and not go after them (Luke 21:8). On the other hand, there is a strong temptation to de-fang these passages by turning them into ancient history lessons. We know that the Jerusalem temple went through a huge building expansion during Jesus’ lifetime. But after Jesus’ death, in the year 70, the Roman war against Palestine led to the destruction of the city and the magnificent temple. By the time Luke wrote his gospel around twenty years later, people not only remembered the destruction and war and famines of those years, they were also being persecuted and arrested right then for their faith. It’s important to know this history and realize that the things Jesus prophetically spoke about did come true and were a reality for the early church. But if it is wrong to fixate on this passage as a portrayal of a violent, end of the world apocalypse, it is also wrong to suggest that the words only refer to painful events over and done with 2000 years ago.
Throughout the years, every generation has historic moments seared into their memories. They ask one another, “Do you remember where you were when World War II ended, when Armstrong walked on the moon, when Kennedy or Martin Luther King was assassinated? Do you remember when the space shuttle exploded, when the first Persian Gulf war began, when Timothy McVeigh blew up the buildings in Oklahoma City?” At some point, perhaps due to the growth of cable news networks and 24-7 news coverage, these images of war and disaster become more frequent. Now people ask: “Where were you when the planes crashed into the twin towers, when we saw people stranded by Hurricane Katrina, devastated by the tsunami that hit Sri Lanka, grieving because of the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut, left homeless because of Hurricane Sandy or (most recently) Typhoon Haiyan?” These images stack up in our memory and threaten to overwhelm us. But rather than be numbed by them, we need to see how they are just as timely for our faith as those which Jesus predicted and Luke described.
To begin with, Jesus points to all wars and disasters and then offers a pastoral word to us: “Do not be terrified.” Remember the gospel story when Jesus and his disciples were crossing the Sea of Galilee? A big storm arose, and the waves and wind got stronger and stronger, but Jesus slept through it all on their boat. The disciples woke him up, saying, “Don’t you even care that we are about to perish?” to which Jesus replied, “Why are you afraid?” and with a word calmed the storm. In some ways, the same dynamics are present here. In effect Jesus says, “There will be wars and storms, earthquakes, typhoons and disasters. Don’t be afraid; these things will take place, but that does not mean that the end will immediately follow.” Jesus is reminding us to keep focused on the big picture, on the broader horizon of how God’s will is shaping all life and all time.
Fear and fixation on immediate disasters can leave us feeling paralyzed and helpless. It makes us as captive to spirits of defeatism as the Israelites long ago were captive in ancient Egypt. In times of trouble, when war and violence, human sin and brokenness surround us on all sides, it is good to remember the words of Reinhold Niebuhr, who wrote: “Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime; therefore, we are saved by hope. Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we are saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own; therefore, we are saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness.” (from The Irony of History) To Niebuhr’s words, we add Jesus’ pastoral words not to be afraid. For the end of history is not imminent. More importantly, the God of the end is also the God of today, and with Christ, our Lord and Savior, there is perfect peace.
Jesus not only offered pastoral words that day at the Jerusalem temple; he also offered prophetic words. We tend to read this passage and fixate on the litany of woes – the insurrections, persecutions, and betrayals mentioned by Christ. But as Jesus mentions these things, he adds a crucial bit of information. He says, “When you are persecuted, this will give you an opportunity to testify” (Lk 21:13). Keeping our eyes on the big horizon of faith means that we hold onto how God is in control today, tomorrow and every day. That’s the faith perspective. Keeping focused on that big horizon also compels us to point to how God is near and challenging us to live as people of faith every day and in every situation. That’s the prophetic imperative – to use times of trial as opportunities to testify.
Think about it this way: When bad things happen to us or to people around us, we can either be passive and silent, be argumentative and aggressive, or be outspoken and prophetic. The first option is defeatist – the second is belligerent and selfish – but the third option is potentially the most faithful and fruitful. As Christians, when we see values compromised and justice denied, we are compelled to testify. So we speak out when food stamps are cut without any other plan in place to care for the poor. We are compelled to speak when handgun violence strikes down young men on our streets and unfair mandatory sentencing laws puts thousands of fathers behind bars and away from jobs and their families. We are compelled to speak out to ensure the Affordable Care Act rollout gets fixed quickly, to insist that the NSA stop its abuse of power stretching back to the unjust Homeland Security Act fiasco, and to demand that no government, especially not ours, believe that drone strikes are ethical forms of modern warfare or civilized diplomacy. Times of trial, when human lives are at stake and human suffering is clearly visible, are precisely when Christ calls us to speak up and speak out – to point to God’s kingdom values that must replace our flawed earthly understandings.
In January 1941, Franklin Delano Roosevelt prepared to give his State of the Union address. It was a sobering time in American history. The Nazi war machine had moved across Europe and was unleashing horrific bombing raids on our British ally. He began the speech by saying this: I address you, members of the Seventy-seventh Congress, at a moment unprecedented in the history of the Union. I use the word ‘unprecedented,’ because at no previous time has American security been as seriously threatened from without as it is today.” Roosevelt spoke against the tyranny of Nazism and called for greater support to be given to our allies. And near the end of the speech, he famously listed off his call for “four freedoms.” He said this:
In the future days, we look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms. The first is freedom of speech and expression – everywhere in the world. The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way – everywhere in the world. The third is freedom from want – which means economic understandings that will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants – everywhere in the world. The fourth is freedom from fear – which means a worldwide reduction of armaments so that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor – anywhere in the world.
A few days earlier, Roosevelt had listed off these four freedoms to his circle of advisors. One of them, old Harry Hopkins, registered a protest at FDR’s use of the phrase “everywhere in the world.” He said, “That covers an awful lot of territory, Mr. President. I don’t know how interested Americans are going to be in the people of Java.” “I’m afraid they’ll have to be some day, Harry,” replied FDR. “The world is getting so small that even the people in java are getting to be our neighbors now.” (from Rendezvous with Destiny) Roosevelt was right. Just as New Orleans, Newtown and Sri Lanka have been brought into our living rooms, so now have Afghanistan, Java and the Philippines become of interest to all Americans. To us, for our time, Jesus says, “Don’t be afraid. Testify. Speak out. Point to God’s horizon and God’s presence now.” Jesus offers us pastoral words and prophetic encouragement. And through the witness of his own life, death and resurrection – and by the promise he’s given to be with us always – we know the lasting truth of his message. We will not perish, but by our endurance, our faithfulness, our love, steadfast hope, and God’s grace, we shall endure.
Thanks be to God. AMEN.