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.