Abstract
Jeremiah 33.14–16; Psalm 25.1–10; 1 Thessalonians 3.9–13; Luke 21.25–36
What does it mean for the kingdom of God to be near? Will it appear through some cataclysmic event, heralded by signs in the celestial bodies and distress and fear amongst the nations? Will its arrival be inaugurated by a second coming of Jesus, ‘the Son of Man’? Must we live in a permanent state of heightened anticipation, so that when it does happen we will not be taken by surprise?
After reading the gospel passage for today we may well find ourselves asking these questions and many more besides. My guess is, however, that despite there being many signs in our world consistent with those listed here, few will be living with quite this level of expectation. Is that because we are wilfully ignoring the exhortation to be on guard and be alert, or have we re-framed and contextualised these warnings in the light of two thousand years of experience?
Clearly, the context into which Jesus is speaking these words is significant, along with when these words were first written down in Luke’s gospel. In the preceding verses in chapter 21 of Luke, Jesus has foretold the destruction both of the temple and of the city of Jerusalem. The years leading up to these catastrophic events were turbulent and dangerous, with social and political unrest accompanied by betrayal and persecution for those living in fledgling Christian communities. The colourful language and imagery may feel a little hyperbolic to those reading this in states of relative comfort and peace, but for those living through seismic change this can reflect how it feels.
When immersed in such traumatic circumstances, where is hope to be found? Many of those who heard Jesus speaking of ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ (Luke 21:27) will have understood this as the fulfilment of the prophecy of Daniel (Daniel 7:9–14), believed to be about the vindication of God’s people after their suffering at the hands of those nations who oppressed them. Is Jesus offering the hope that these dramatic convulsions in Jerusalem will eventually lead to his vindication and that of his people? Through being on guard and alert at all times, and praying for strength to endure these upheavals, is Jesus offering a path which could lead the faithful to a place where they can ‘stand before the Son of Man?’ (Luke 21:36)
It goes without saying that human history is littered with situations for which the language and imagery of Luke 21 are not hyperbolic, and where hope has been desperately sought. Our verses from Jeremiah 33 offer a similar hope of salvation ‘to the house of Israel and the house of Judah’ (Jeremiah 33:14) several centuries earlier. And where is hope to be found in the convulsions of Gaza, the wider Middle East, Sudan or Ukraine? Others may find themselves in less overtly troubled times but what sources of hope are there in the face of economic injustice, social unrest and climate breakdown with its attendant environmental consequences?
Whilst Christians will continue to locate hope in their ongoing relationship with God and in a future, definitive encounter with God, such as that suggested in Luke 21, there remains an obligation to take responsibility for embodying hope in our own relationships and communities in the present. The kingdom of God is both a dream and a task; it is about not yet and now; as well as being ‘near’ it is also ‘among you’ or ‘within you’ (Luke 17:21). I was struck recently by a speaker who referred to many people being ‘through with out-sourcing’ when it comes to responding to climate breakdown. Hope is to be found not just in some future consummation of all things or in what other people might do—possibly powerful and influential people—but in what I can do, here and now, in solidarity with my neighbours and friends.
Maybe there is some inspiration for this in our reading from the first letter to the Thessalonians? The sense of joy and mutual love and solidarity that is expressed in those few verses alludes to something enormously powerful. For this is not an end in itself but a means by which we may ‘increase and abound in love for one another and for all.’ (I Thess. 3: 12) Living out that love in tangible and practical ways in the face of some monumental challenges is a calling we can all respond to—we are ‘through with out-sourcing’—and the opportunities are endless.
Returning to the issue of climate breakdown, an organisation which embodies this approach is the Climate Majority Project. 1 Most people are concerned about climate change and many feel that not enough is being done to mitigate it. It is easy to feel impotent and hopeless in the face of political inertia and so-called extremist campaigning. What the Climate Majority Project is seeking to do is coordinate and mobilise a broad-based coalition of citizens, encouraging a sense of climate responsibility at all levels of society; helping people to play their part and not simply rely on the actions of others. Creating, if you like, opportunities for people to ‘increase and abound in love for one another and for all’, including the fragile planet on which we live!
We enter the season of Advent. ’Tis not the season to be jolly but to be hopeful; to watch, to wait, to pray and to look forward expectantly to an event which gives us grounds for hope even in the fiercest storms and convulsions. And the dream of some future peaceable kingdom, inextricably linked to the birth of the Christ-child, is an important aspect of Christian hope. It is at its most powerful, however, when used to help inspire and shape the present; the task of building the kingdom of God being fed and driven by the dream. How am I being inspired and shaped by this hope? With whom am I collaborating to embody this hope in my relationships, communities, and ways of living?
There are all too many signs and much too much distress among the nations. We know that the kingdom of God is near. We will be on our guard and alert, praying for strength and courage and wisdom. We will play our part in communion with others to build the transitory kingdoms which will culminate in the consummation of all things, the definitive encounter with God which is ultimately a gracious, generous and gratuitous gift!