Sermon for the
Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost
November 18, 2007
Malachi 4:1–2a
Psalm 98
2 Thessalonians 3:6–13
Luke 21:5–19
Lectionary 33
Proper 28
Year C
I.N.I. (In the name of Jesus)
Endings.
Though quite a few shriveled leaves are still clinging to trees, in one month’s time, they all will drop. The growing season in this climate comes screeching to a halt.
Endings.
I’m awful at saying goodbyes. I can’t stand the emptiness that gnaws at my gut when I have to leave those I love. I grasp for words that more easily flow out when I first meet someone. “Well, see you later.” And then, I wave and say g’bye. I want a quick hug, and then to get on with it.
New beginnings are so much more attractive to me than finishing up, or closing out a project. I can’t even finish sermons until Sunday mornings, because there might be just one more nugget to discover and to share.
Endings.
We all have to face them, whether we like it or not. Botox or cancer treatments, social security or retirement accounts notwithstanding, everything, this church building, our work, our lives, all come to an end.
In the cycle of the church year, our emotional psyches are one full month ahead of the rest of our culture. The church’s new year begins in early December, and as we come near and settle in, the wisdom of the ages that recommend patient and reflective waiting against the insane consumer monster that even now is rearing up with the urge to buy, decorate, and be jolly.
Now today and onto next Sunday, we are closing out the year, turning the last page of the liturgical calendar and face to face with the images of endings, like the end of the world, fancifully called in theological jargon eschatology, “the “last days,” or the “end times.”
Endings.
At the end of the Old Testament, Malachi the messenger blasts fire as an image of the end. A fire, as anyone with a clue about what happened in Southern California or with the atomic bomb in Nagasaki, is relentless in its destructive capacity. Malachi, that social critic of the 5th century BC describes those who are described as evil and arrogant as being reduced to rubble like the ashes left in your fireplace or self-cleaning oven: stubble. Whoa.
For those who keep God in mind, however, the severe heat also brings healing as a figure who is described as a sun of righteousness. Like a phoenix out of the ashes. Like new growth that is enable by clearing out the landscape with a fire. Like messengers and promise-bearers at the end of the Old Testament that serve as a bridge for the messengers and promise-bearers of the New Testament, revealed in the gospels. Like new beginnings.
Hear yet another way of facing the fire and the end.
Near the end of Luke’s gospel, as onlookers admire the baubles of the temple, Jesus reminds hearers about the end, as in nothing lasts forever, beware of putting your eggs all in one basket, don’t get comfortable.
He furthers points out the heat of battles, the destruction of natural disasters, tenuousness family relationships, and persecution ahead for that small minority who claimed Jesus as messiah and was thought crazy or threatening by the establishment or even their closest friends.
Life as it has been known becomes distorted, out of focus, like figures in a Picasso painting whose body parts become separated from one another, with the eyes all on one side of the head and the nose attached to the knees.
The world teeters on virtual collapse, another end is in sight.
While Jesus’ words paint a topsy-turvy portrait, in between portents and warnings he provides strength and assurance:
13This will give you an opportunity to testify. I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 18But not a hair of your head will perish. 19By your endurance you will gain your souls.
Endings do not need to be feared, avoided, or ramp up anxiety. They may, in truth be opportunities for new life. They may, in truth enable Christ’s light to shine. They may, in truth, break open a new beginning.
Without the cross, there is no resurrection.
With the cross, God breaks through our own destructive tendencies in order to bring about a whole new creation.
How can we endure endings in order to find promise breaking through?
What is it that you can bring to an end, in order to start anew?
How can we as a community who gathers in faith receive the gift of the cross as a path for resurrection life?
I propose that we pray and seek God’s guidance. I propose that we seek the wisdom of the old and the young. I propose that we continue to be prodded by God’s Word and the Sacrament.
I promise that I will not be quick to say goodbye, or run away, or too easily give in to the messages of gloom I hear, but in the wake of all that threatens and kills, will seek to listen and to speak words that welcome something new, something only God can bring, out of the fire.
And if I were to sing it, it might sound like this:
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris'n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that we no more may die
Born to raise each child of earth
Born to give us second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"
I.N.I.
The Rev. Timothy J. Keyl, Pastor
Christ the King Lutheran Church
| CtK Home
| Back to Pastor's Page
|
Christ the King Lutheran Church, 3 Lutheran Drive, Nashua, NH 03063 (603) 882-6142
If you have problems with this web page contact:
webmaster@ctknashua.org