2008-11-30 Luke 21:25-36

2008-11-30 Luke 21:25-36

James McTyre

Lake Hills Presbyterian Church (USA)

Good morning.

Anybody else feeling a little worn out today?

Giving thanks takes it out of you.

You get extra points for being here the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

Because Thanksgiving is hard.

You have to eat all that turkey and pumpkin pie.

You have to lay on the couch, and fall asleep watching football games you don't really care about.

Any of you feel like you've spent the last three days in the kitchen?

Thanksgiving - it takes a toll.

But now comes the best part, turkey sandwiches.

Turkey sandwiches on white bread with may-o-naise.

After all this Thanks and Giving, the scripture today's a little bit of a jolt.

Just about the time you get all warm and cozy after three grueling days of giving thanks, just about the time you start thinking of relaxing for one day of rest you come to church and instead you get a serious jolt.

"But in those days, after that suffering, 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...."

“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come."

Um. Merry Christmas.

So much for a peaceful Sabbath.

The church in its centuries of wisdom looks at the weeks leading up to Christmas, the four Sundays of Advent and delivers a taser-sized jolt.

You think it's time to nap? the scriptures say.

You think it's time to let down?

You think you've got a minute to plan out your offense through Christmas, Hannukkah and Kwaanza?

Think again.

Scripture's bringing us a big-ol can of Jolt Cola, with caffeine, taurine, and Vitamin Gee You Better Get Yourself Movin' Now.

But why? Why the jolt?

Why the jolt at precisely the time when we want peace?

Why the anxiety when what we really want is children's laughter and chestnuts roasting on an open fire?

This little apocalypse at the front-end of Advent is an alarm bell for our souls.

Anybody like hearing the alarm clock go off in the morning?

This little apocalypse at the beginning of Advent is our wake-up call.

Before you sleepwalk through all the stuff you think you have to do in these coming weeks, before you step along with the rest of the revenge of the shopping zombies, wake up.

Wake up and remember!

Remember why we have Christmas in the first place.

Is it because of all the stuff we can plan and buy and cook?

Sometimes we're tempted to think so.

But we know it's not.

Christmas is about Jesus.

And Jesus is about God.

And God is about the stuff we can't do.

God's jolt is the gift of hope.



---

This morning we lit a candle of hope.

What do you hope for?

If you ask the kids, they probably have a list.

Or two.

But we all have our lists, at any age.

Only, as we get older the list might not have as many things you can get at the store.

Health. Savings.

A sense of accomplishment.

Joy.

Those don't exactly fit in Santa's bag.

That's the difference between a wish and a hope.

You might wish for a Barbie Glamor Camper.

(Who in the world ever thought the words “glamor” and “camper” could go together?)

Or maybe a Barbie Totally Stylin Tattoo Doll.

(Honestly, they really make a Totally Stylin Tattoo Barbie. Goes so well with Multiple Body-pierce Ken.)

If you do your shopping online, you know that every store checkout area has something whimsically called, your "Wish List."

If you want to think about a purchase, or if you want to email it to someone buying you presents, you click, “Add to my Wish List.”

I have yet to see a store with a "Hope List."

Wishes are stuff we know we really don't need, but would be cool to have.

Hope is the stuff we long for.

You can get your wishes filled at Nieman-Marcus or Home Depot or Sea Ray.

Hope is tougher to find in retail.

Where do you find hope?

Maybe right here, in church.

I hope so.

Maybe you find hope in the pages of scripture.

Maybe your hope comes from sharing stories with other people who've made it through, or from just knowing that there are people who hope you make it through, and want to help, whatever your situation.

These days, people go “Church Shopping.”

If you had never been to a church before, if you browsed your way in the front door for the first time, you might think it strange that something as big as hope would come through vessels as fragile as the crackly pages of a book, or the veined hand of an elder.

You might think hope would come packaged and warrantied - read these verses, say these prayers, associate with these people and you'll have boatloads of hope, or your money back.

Hope's too fragile for that kind of treatment.

Hope has to be passed along with such care.

Hope is like a shaky hand lighting a candle's flame.

You just have to hope you meet the match to the wick long enough for the flame to ignite.

Hope is gently passed through a handshake or a hug, through eye contact that says, "I really am glad to see you."

Hope sits by a hospital bed.

Hope cries at a funeral.

Hope soars with the choir's harmony and hope dances on piano keys.

Hope is that scripture you've heard a million times and suddenly get, for no apparent reason, just the right word at the right time.

Hope defies explanation, defies rational thought, but hope is real.

You know it when you feel it.

And you know when you need it.

The first candle of Advent is a candle of hope.



---

The scripture, this little apocalypse described by Jesus, doesn't sound all that hopeful.

"There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken.”

It sounds as if Jesus is saying the end is coming.

Like the signs outside Sevier Heights say, "Be Prepared to Stop."

That's exactly what Jesus is saying.

The end is coming, soon.

But he's not saying it the way the guy with the sign on Market Square, walking in circles is saying it.

Because the apocalypse Jesus is describing is a sign, not just of endings, but of a grand, new beginning.

“At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

What Jesus is saying will end is the need for wishes.

What Jesus is saying will end is the pandemic of hopelessness.

What's ending is the search for hope because here, descending from the clouds with power and glory is hope.

Hope tangible, hope touchable, hope real, live and in person.

Hope that we can hold onto.

Hope that holds onto us.

God's hope in the new day of a new heaven and a new earth is hope that will never, ever let us go.

God's hope rips through all the packaged wishes.

God's hope tears apart the gray skies and shines like radiant diamonds of new life, not from some distant tomorrow, but within our grasp and forever.

No more fragile hope.

No more broken hope.

No more hearts that yearn for something just out of reach.

Hope clear. Hope defined. Hope alive.

Scripture jolts us awake to a new morning, a new life in Christ Jesus.

The old life is gone, a new life has begun, in Christ Jesus we are alive, in him we hope.

Not as the world hopes.

But as those who aren't troubled, as those who aren't afraid of what tomorrow might bring.

Because our hope doesn't come from things seen, but from things lived, and shared, and new.



---

If you are worn out.

If the idea of Christmas stresses you out.

Start your Advent Season with a jolt.

Christ's coming isn't something you can bring.

Christ's coming isn't something you can usher in, as in, "Oh my gosh, we hung the garlands wrong - Christmas isn't coming this year!")

Christmas doesn't need you.

Christ doesn't need you.

And yet he chooses you.

And he wants you to hope in his word.

He wants you to find hope in scripture, and church, and even (and maybe especially) a few strangers, a few unexpected mercies.

Christ wants you to find hope in God.

Christ's hope should shake up your world.

Christ's coming will shake up our world.

Christ will bring us hope.

So be ready.