Luke 21:25-33
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen.
Dear Congregation,
Luke 21:25-33
25 There will be signs in the sun, moon, and stars. On earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and surging of the sea.
26 People will faint with fear and apprehension of what is coming on the whole earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.
27 Then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with great power and glory.
28 When these things begin to happen, stand up and lift up your head, because your redemption is drawing near.
29 And he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees.
30 As soon as they bud, you see for yourselves that summer is near.
31 So also you, when you see all these things happening, know that the kingdom of God is nearby.
32 Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened.
33 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.”
I've often addressed the so-called "imminent expectation" of the first Christians in my sermons. Luke writes: "Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened!"
Luke was mistaken. He and many other early Christians were firmly convinced of it. They believed it and expected Jesus' return every day. And they were wrong.
Do I find that so bad? Does it make the Bible less credible for me? No, I don't find it so bad: on the contrary, it makes me a bit more cautious and humbler when I'm so absolutely convinced of something. I, and we, should maintain some doubt, or to put it positively: remain open to the possibility that things might be different from what we currently believe so firmly.
Now to the second question: No, it doesn't make the Bible any less credible.
Luke also writes: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but the words of Jesus will never pass away!"
That is indeed true and has been fulfilled to this day. Jesus' words retain their power.
And with that, I say clearly: even though we are still waiting for the Second Coming of Jesus and Luke was mistaken in his reckoning of time, these verses he wrote still have meaning for us.
Lukas focuses on a time when people, not just individuals, but entire nations, live in fear. Lukas thinks of times when the world is turned upside down: Nature is changing; the sun and moon are no longer as we know them. Chaos returns. Forces are faltering, human forces and the heavens themselves.
Luke vividly describes a feeling that many of today's contemporaries understand well. A worldwide wave of great change similar to what happened about 500 years ago when the printing press was invented, or when industrialization began and cities grew ever larger.
Every now and then in human history, there are such times when everything seems to be turned upside down and the changes are particularly vast and momentous. In our generation, it is climate change, the digital interconnectedness of the entire world, and the expansion of artificial intelligence.
Yes, this can fill entire nations and individuals with fear and terror, or at least deeply unsettle them.
Such uncertainty is often exploited: people are made even more afraid. It's a lucrative business built on fear.
Luke doesn't do that. On the contrary, and this is for me the great joy of Advent and the great miracle of the Advent season: Luke sees all of this and then writes: "When these things begin to happen, lift up your heads."
So, when you yourself become so fearful, so insecure, when you no longer understand the world, when changes come your way that overwhelm you, precisely then it is time to reorient yourself: time for reflection: Then lift up your heads, because your salvation is drawing near.
Luke finds it possible, amidst the terrifying chaos that resembles the end of the world, to orient himself so strongly towards Jesus that fear dissipates and joy grows. That is remarkable and truly a miracle.
Again, try to reflect on this: instead of sinking into an apocalyptic mood and letting fear grow ever stronger, Luke recommends raising your heads: standing tall. Not cowering, sinking into despair, and being dejected, utterly devastated, but being upright and proud: Lift up your heads. To me, that sounds completely different from the comforting "Keep your chin up!" Lift up your heads. Reorient yourselves. Change your perspective. Let God's face shine upon you and receive new strength.
Adopt an attitude not driven by fear of the apocalypse, but by the strength that grows in orienting yourself toward Jesus Christ.
And because Luke already recognizes how difficult it is for people to do this and to live with such trust, he uses the image of the fig tree. Indeed, the joy and strength that can grow when looking to Jesus Christ are like growth in nature: it takes time; the blossoms on the fig tree are a sign, an expression of hope: here a fruit will grow.
This is a particularly beautiful image for me, one that essentially reconnects us to our confirmation: Back then, most of us didn't know much. It was a blossoming moment, and today—so many decades later—many fruits have already ripened. Yes, and some things haven't. In some ways, we too have been mistaken—what's important is how we deal with these disappointments: whether we make things harder for ourselves, piling disappointment upon disappointment, or whether we raise our heads again, realign ourselves, and stand tall.
The remaining weeks of Advent invite us to do just that: a time for reflection. A time for contemplation, for orientation, for strengthening the certainty that our salvation is near!
And salvation has many faces! It is up to us to recognize them!
“The night has advanced—the day is not far off! So let praise be sung to the bright morning star! Even those who wept through the night, let them join in joyful praise. The morning star also shines upon your fear and pain.”
The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.