Approaching the Mystery of the End of the World Faithfully

Approaching the End of the World Mystery Faithfully

            As we enter 2012, as the ball drops, as Auld Lang Syne plays in the background, many within the greater community will be concerned as to what this New Year will bring. I try not to pay too much attention to end of the world predictions, but we’ve all heard the dastardly predictions of what this year has to bring us. The Mayan Calendar ends this year, and frankly, that has freaked people out!

            Recently when I was preaching at a church in Iredell County, I was asked, “How do I approach the end of the world with faith? How can I deal with what is coming my way with dignity and grace?” This question took me back, because it deals with a very real fear many people have with this New Year. How do we deal with doomsday as people of faith? First of all, I would remind people who are keeping score that there have been thousands of failed predictions in the past, and there will probably be more, simply and directly, we cannot predict the end, and honestly we shouldn’t be concerned with that. That’s really not our jobs. Our jobs, as people who claim the Christmas reality and New Year hope should be doing our very best to proclaim God’s grace present in the lives of those around us.

            In the theological world in which I often find myself living, we have a wonderful term to describe an end of the world we can all look forward to! It’s called realized eschatology, big fancy words simply meaning that the kingdom of God will come, when we as people who believe in God bring that about. We become a part of God’s kingdom coming to earth. So in a sense, it’s not an end, but a beginning! A beginning of hope, joy and peace, we who are caught in the crosshairs between heaven and earth should rejoice in the mystery of the end, or beginning depending on how you look at it. Peter Gomes puts it this way; “mystery is unwelcome because it intimidates many of us, suggesting a limit on our capacity to control. Few of us are willing to sacrifice autonomy, for an awesome encounter with the seraphim and cherubim continually crying, holy, holy, holy”

            For us, we have trouble ceding the control of our earth to our God, and that is why the end of our world and the beginning of God’s scares us. So this year, whether it is the end or not, let us all take faith that God is in control. God will never leave us nor forsake us. I love how the book of 1^st Timothy puts it, “Without any doubt, the mystery of our religion is great: He was revealed in flesh, vindicated in spirit, seen by angels, proclaimed among Gentiles, believed in throughout the world, and taken up in glory.” We can all praise God for 2012, no matter what happens. To be honest I’m not concerned about the end of the world, let’s get to work and make this year worth living. 

The Muppets and Advent Incarnation

            Around this time I love to pull out a Christmas CD and listen to the sounds of the season as I drive. This year, it was John Denver and the Muppets’ album, A Christmas Together. There is a beautiful song on that CD that speaks to the realities of life, death and the great beyond. When the River Meets the Sea, as the song states so profoundly, “Like a baby when it is sleeping in its loving mother's arms, what a newborn baby dreams is a mystery. But his life will find a purpose and in time he'll understand, when the river meets the almighty sea!”

            The writer of the book of Galatians puts it this way, “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’ So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.” What a wonderful idea to hold fast to. God sent his son in the fullness of time so that we might experience the height, depth and gravity of God’s mercy and grace.

            We who claim the name of Christian believe that Jesus was fully human and fully divine. If Jesus was fully human, what then, did Jesus dream about? As a newborn baby I wonder what the Savior of the nations had to dream about. I wonder as he was cradled in Mary’s arms what in the world was going through his head. As we ponder these questions let us ponder our own dreams.

            In the fullness of time, we dream dreams of wealth, of power, of earthly things. Instead we should have hopes for love, peace, justice and hope. The reality of our Advent and Christmas season is one of change, one of hoping for better. In the fullness of our own existence, we realize that God is present amidst our lives. We feel God incarnate in our very beings.

            This year, look for Christmas. I always see the incarnation of God in the beauty of my grandmother’s Christmas tree, or in the candlelight carols sung in church. Find the incarnational theology in your own life. Where does Christ become present for you? Hear these words from a wonderful hymn, “Where cross the crowded ways of life, where sound the cries of race and clan, above the noise of selfish strife, we hear thy voice, O Son of Man.” Where our lives intersect with a cross and a manger is where we see God. Where our lives full of rivers meet the almighty sea, is where God is present. Thanks be to God. 

The Advent of the Stars

            There is something about being a college student in which the spontaneity of life overtakes you. One night, in the early hours of the morning, a small group of my closest friends here at Appalachian decided that we wanted an adventure. We gathered blankets and jackets and set out on the Blue Ridge Parkway. We ended up at the Julian Price Memorial Park along the banks of Price Lake. We sat along the banks of the lake and marveled at the stars that peaked out from the canopy of clouds.

            I started a conversation with a friend who I have come to love, and we talked about the meaning of our existence. We looked across the lake, and saw the beauty of the stars light years away. I couldn’t help but feel God at work in our lives, mending, creating, restoring while we were watching the stars. I was reminded of what Martin Luther once penned long ago, “God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.”

            God at work, in the early hours of a Monday morning when we all had tests and assignments to do the next morning, you could feel the tangible evidence of God’s grace at work in the conversations going on. Our pasts, our histories were revealed in a different light, our futures looked a little brighter. Maybe it was Orion’s Belt shining in the darkness, but I tend to cling to the hope that it was God in our midst.

            Eventually we realized we needed to head back to the university, and actually get some sleep. As we drove back to Boone we could see the twinkling of the city coming into view. I thought of that wonderful town, of how God came long ago to save the likes of us. I thought of Advent, which is quickly approaching, in which with great expectancy we await the coming Christ.

            After I had dropped my friends off and was heading back to my dorm, I was listening to the radio. Christmas music was on, and regardless of how early it may seem to me, one of my favorite carols was on. The wonderful line, “Yet in thy dark streets shineth 
the everlasting Light, the hopes and fears of all the years 
are met in thee tonight.”

Within the streets of towns and cities, God is at work. The hopes of our lives, the fears of our existence are brought into a different light in the presence of the incarnate Savior. God is bringing about God’s reign through ordinary experiences like stargazing.

            As we approach the Advent season, as we approach the beauty of everything we hold dear, may we always remember the experiences that make this time special. Whether that be a late night adventure with friends, a feast on our tables, or the wonders of this time, may we always find God amidst our ordinary existence. 

Abbey Tsumas: 2 Years Later

        In the Jewish faith, when our Jewish brothers and sisters visit a grave, the custom is to place a small stone on the grave. This shows that someone visited the gravesite and that the deceased has not been forgotten.   

            I remember when I was a young child my grandmother would take me to play in Oakwood cemetery, we’d play on the tree we affectionately knew as Moses, because of its age and size. As I grew I stopped playing in the cemetery. I looked back on those days, and marveled at the fact that I played in the cemetery, a place where I would later come to bury my uncle, and a place where I would come to assist in many graveside services. I remember those days, but deep, deep down; there is an absence, for now I longer play in cemeteries. I know that for now, I mourn in those places.

            My mind often around these shorter days turns to death. Two years ago, around this time I lost a friend. I remember where I was, what I was doing when I received the call that my friend Abbey had died. I remember the gathering, the crying, and the pain. We all just wanted to rewind, to relive, and to never have to face death. We all have had experiences like these when we would give anything just for more time.

Abbey and the gang at Band Banquet

            God in infinite wisdom sent us examples, game-changers, people who expose the love affair God has with humanity. I am reminded of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined.” For many of my friends and myself, we look back on the life that was lived when we remember Abbey Tsumas as a person who shined light on things. We remember that she has not been forgotten. 

            There is a creative writing professor at Appalachian by the name of Joseph Bathanti, he tells the story of his friend who was in the business of restoring icons and sacred art. In his wonderful poem Bathanti describes the brokenness of a statue that his friend was rebuilding. I would propose to you, that right now God is in the business of restoring sacred art. God is at work in the very lives of broken people like you and me. God knows the hurt we feel when we are at a loss. God is ever present, ever ready to provide comfort and peace to those in need. It may not always be evident, but it is there, in our very midst.

            I challenge you this week to adopt a tradition of remembrance, maybe that’s looking through an old photo album, maybe that’s paying a visit to a family member who has lost someone close. Maybe, just maybe that’s laying a stone on the grave of a loved one. For one day, we all will be laughing at death in our resurrection, we will giggle at tombstones and share stories around the graves. We will run, we will laugh, and yes we will shout for joy when we see people like Abbey again. We once again will be playing in the cemeteries.    

The Wedding at Cana

            I love a good wedding. In fact, this Saturday, I will be attending one of my good friend’s nuptials. We all have been to a wedding; we’ve all enjoyed seeing happiness. This reminded me of a story we often hear of Jesus beginning his earthly ministry with none other than, a wedding.

            I must admit, when it comes to big crowds I can be somewhat of an introvert. Now don’t get me wrong I can put on my extrovert hat and ‘work the crowd’ just as well as anyone else, but I feel sometimes like Jesus did, hesitant to make a scene when it’s easier to sit by the punch bowl and talk with your close friends. As Jesus said, “My hour has not yet come” But there is something very interesting about this text, something profound that we often miss when gleaming through the New Testament.

            Interestingly enough it is suggested that most of the water in the time of Jesus’ life and teachings was not fit to drink. They didn’t know what we know about purification. Christ, the one we call Lord took unclean, undrinkable water and made it into wine, what the Jews considered to be fit for drinking. How marvelous! Jesus took something dirty and made something beautiful! How often do we sit on the sidelines and expect transformation? How often do we just wait for God to send a sign? God is in our midst, working, now! God is in the business of taking something ordinary, like dirty water, and making it extraordinary, like the good wine.

            Dr. Samuel Wells, the Dean of Duke Chapel puts it this way, “The best advice I can offer is that it's not love that teaches you what marriage means - it's marriage that teaches you what love means.” We are constantly learning, constantly transforming, that is the beauty of the Wedding at Cana. Jesus came out of his shell in the sense that he found the transforming power of ministry. We too must be willing not to wait for our hour to come, but to bring that hour about!

            The next time you’re at a wedding, look at the transformative power of what is happening. Two beings, are becoming one. It is truly marvelous and appropriate that Jesus would start his ministry at a wedding. God invites us, if we are willing to become one with our Maker. God invites us to transform our lives and the lives of others into ‘good wine.’

            I really am looking forward to my friends wedding, and I wish them all the best for a happy future. There is something to be said to be willing to commit your life to someone else. I certainly don’t claim to be the foremost scholar or experienced practitioner of marriage, but what I do know is this: God, like a groom is waiting at the end of the aisle, are you willing to walk towards the beauty and splendor of a future in God’s kingdom? That, my friends, is a wedding we can all look forward to.