Sermons at St. John’s Presbyterian Church

Advent and the Second Coming:

A little crazy, yes; Important and powerful, definitely.


Transcribed from the sermon preached December 3, 2006

The Reverend Max Lynn, Pastor


St. John’s Presbyterian Church
2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705
Telephone 510-845-6830    Fax 510-845-6837

Scripture Readings:  Jeremiah 33:14-16 Luke 21:25-36

We begin Advent with a look at the end. This section of scripture is called the little apocalypse, in comparison to the bigger apocalypse of John’s Revelation. The main point is this: Redemption is on the way. Redemption will come. The tree of humanity has been cut down by sin, evil and injustice, but a shoot will sprout; the Messiah will be born, has been born, lived, died and risen, and will come again. This is good news!

So why is it that apocalyptic tends to give thoughtful, progressive Christians the willies? Why do we try our best to ignore it. Cornelius Platinga from Calvin Seminary (cep.calvinseminary.edu) points out three reasons why we get restless in the face of the second coming. First, it is strange language. Second, the time line is tough to figure out. The end didn’t come in a generation or even two, as Jesus seemed to expect. William Willimon says, “It is hard to stand on your tip toes for two thousand years.”

The result is that we settle down into a common sense Christianity. We pride ourselves on a grounded faith. We have a church structure built to last; we like the Sermon on the Mount, the golden rule. We have community, the sacraments, and good works, just enough faith to keep us going. We ration our passion and spirit to last for the long haul.

The third reason why we don’t know what to do with the second coming is that science and secular culture has flattened out our view of the world. The second coming is too fantastic, too supernatural. This is one of those subjects we would rather avoid talking about with our secular friends. We might even be a little embarrassed about it. We would rather leave it to the embarrassing Christians who have made big business out of apocalyptic speculation. How annoying they are! Painting the antichrist as an environmentalist and leader of the UN, cosmic calculators making predictions and revising them each generation. Certain that Christ will come again when Israel builds and makes sacrifice in the temple again, Texas farmers are raising the perfect calf for sacrifice and fanatical Christians support the state of Israel with no concern at all for Palestinian lives, homes and farms - and even as they are certain Jews will burn in Hell for all eternity.

We have a tough time when we encounter such Christians. They give us the willies. But we err when we let them steal the scripture and co-opt the power of the redemptive return of Christ. Our faith is less without it.

Redemption is drawing near! The people Jesus is talking to, Luke’s audience know the desire for redemption. Living in a land squeezed by Egypt, Babylon and Rome, subject to heavy taxation, slavery, war, famine and natural disasters, their hearts ache for redemption. Redemption means liberation. Redemption means justice. Redemption means the King of Peace will rule. The second coming is about hope, hope in the midst of the facts of life that too easily leads to despair.

It is quite possible that middle class American we would rather avoid the second coming is because we are comfortable enough with the lives we have here. As Justo Gonzales has said, “We whisper our prayers for the Kingdom so God can’t quite hear them. ‘Thy Kingdom come,’ we pray, ‘but not right away.’”

God’s redemption is good news for those whose life is full of bad news. If you are a slave in Egypt or Mississippi you hunger for redemption. If you are in exile in Babylon, or a refugee in Sudan you are passionate for redemption. If your house was washed away and you are stuck in the Superdome, if thousands in your community are being wiped out by AIDs or are dying from famine, if you are stuck in the cycle of poverty, addiction, and violence of the city, you are passionate for redemption. It is no surprise that Christianity is growing rapidly among such people.

But I am not so sure most of us are that comfortable, not so sure we don’t have latent, archetypal yearning for redemption. Our culture has not mastered happiness, though we have mastered the art of distraction. The economic ladder keeps our focus on the next rung. We have sex and alcohol, legalized pot and antidepressants, Desperate Housewives, My Space and porn; we have cell phones in coffee shops, Vegas and Disneyland. Certainly we agree with the Pope that religion should champion rational thought. But we don’t have to live in a place like Berkeley long to recognize that many of us use our intelligence and rationality to avoid deep feeling. Not that there are too few of us whose flighty feelings and sentimental idealism, or selfish spirituality reveals a fear of real responsibility, decisions, discipline and healthy boundaries. Yes, there are many ways to be avoidant. Even our religious arguments can be a distraction from immediate and personal pain.

A boyfriend has left, a daughter has attempted suicide, a husband has died, a strong and independent soul is forced to give up control and accept help due to declining physical or mental health. And this time of year, ironically, we are reminded of the way we wish things had been, about growth and joy cut off. There is the sister or daughter who we can’t seem to talk to, brothers who can’t get along, the painful memory of the alcoholic, abusive father, the critical mother, a hurtful affair, a divorce and loneliness. The pain comes back and we feel it in the present tense. We are reminded of power misused, and of powerlessness, of brokenness, of stunted growth, of guilt and shame. Deep down, we all have reason to pray for redemption.

The use of texts that refer to the second coming each year during Advent suggest that there is more to them than chronology of literal, historical events. On one level our text does look beyond the birth, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus to his return. On another level we are drawn into a more immediate, collapse of time and space into a present tense expectation of the birth of the Messiah.

Jeremiah’s vision of the righteous branch comes right after Jeremiah has been jailed, and the exile of the people of Judah to Babylon is imminent. Israel will be cut off, chopped down like a tree. But a shoot will emerge. From the Christian perspective this shoot is Christ Jesus, and post Easter, it is also the risen Christ being reborn and growing anew from our heart. When we risk letting go, going deep, we not only experience the pain of sin and injustice, we experience the mysterious, omnipresent power, life, love, grace and peace of God.

The cyclical character of the Christian year brings these texts into the present, as each moment in the entire story is re-enacted in both our collective and personal experience. There is a promise for us here: a promise that comes from the past and reaches into the future. The stump is not dead; pain has not stopped life. The devastating storms and war are not proof that hope is lost. On this earth and in heaven, in the world and in our heart and soul, yesterday, today and tomorrow, the gracious love of God is growing forth, being born, being born again, breaking out into life, into our life now.

This is a most beautiful, mystical truth: There is no direction or time; no race, gender, status, class, nation or age; no dimension conceived or yet to be conceived, no conscious or unconscious corner of our soul is without this promise, this hope, this light, this justice, this grace, this peace, this love of God.

It is this same mystical sense through which we perceive that this Jesus who hung on the cross was the Messiah, that he was, and is, and is to come, that the mother of all life is the daughter at children’s hospital, that the hope of the powerless victim is more powerful than a thousand armies; that the love, compassion, grace of one righteous soul is more powerful than all the evil of the world, that forgiveness of one man who lived two thousand years ago existed at the beginning of time and is present and real, cleansing our soul now, calling us to ministry and uniting us through a simple meal. What a crazy, wonderful, fantastic idea: the force of the big bang, the power which brought forth creation; expands the universe and will someday contract it, the force that brought frogs from the sea and numbers the sand and the stars, which shelters the earth with an ozone layer, draws forth flies and zebras, sea otters and red woods, this force actually cares about us, loves us, and calls us to live in community filled with peace and justice. This force so far beyond us, so beyond our imagination and intelligence is found consolidated, incarnated, present in the form of a tiny babe. It is crazy, its nuts, it is beautiful, wonderful, fantastic Good News. Come Lord Jesus.