Sermon for 1st Sunday in Advent Yr C

1^st Sunday in Advent Yr C, 28/11/2021

Lk 21:25-36

Pastor Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson

“A living hope in this troubled world”

Today marks the beginning of a new church calendar year. Advent, which means coming, is a season in which we prepare for and focus on the three different comings of Jesus. Jesus came in the past born as a human being in Bethlehem. Jesus comes to us in the present in many and various ways, including through the word and the sacrament, worship, prayers, and in our relationships with one another. Because Jesus comes in the present in many and various ways, it is not actually proper to refer to his coming in the future as the second coming. However, be that as it may, Jesus will come again in the future—and that is the focus of today’s gospel, although not entirely. 

You may wonder why we have this gospel passage, since Advent is the season we prepare for Christmas and Jesus’s birth, isn’t it more appropriate to focus on hope than the sobering gloom and doom of this passage? Why do we have to focus on cosmic disasters of the sun, moon and stars wearing out, the earth and seas going crazy by terrorizing nations with tornados, earthquakes, and tsunamis? As you know, earlier this month, COP26 tried to address climate change yet again and make commitments to prevent global warming more than 1.5 degrees above what it is now. And, as we watch, read and listen to the news, we learn of unprecedented floods, fires and droughts threatening our planet. Will we be able to reach or exceed the goals of COP26? If so, will they really make any difference? As many environmental critics of the COP meetings have said, this is the 26^th meeting and all they can do is talk way too much, and fail to take the necessary actions that would involve radical changes—especially for us affluent nations in the northern hemisphere. 

Indeed, people today are, as Jesus tells us, fainting from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world. As Jesus says, there are signs, tragedies happening before our very eyes. For far too many, there is a growing lack of food security; a growing number of homeless people because of natural disasters; places in the world that may no longer be inhabited by human beings due to a changing environment. In addition to all of these tragic changes, in the world of politics it seems that there are an alarming and growing number of tyrannical governments and dictatorships, which cause even more suffering, oppression, evil and injustice for way too many people. 

Where do we find a living hope in a world like this? That reminds me of the following Peanuts comic strip: Linus and Lucy are standing at the window looking out at the rain falling. Lucy says to Linus, “Boy, look at it rain ... What if it floods the earth?”

Linus, the resident biblical scholar for Peanuts, answers, “It will never do that ... in the ninth chapter of Genesis, God promised Noah that would never happen again, and the sign of the promise is the rainbow.”

With a smile on her face, Lucy replies, “Linus, you've taken a great load off my mind.”

To which Linus responds, “Sound theology has a way of doing that.” 

Linus is correct, sound theology can give us a living hope in a world like this. Why? Well because it is rooted in a careful reading and study of the Bible, and then responding by actions of faith. 

Our gospel is not all gloom and doom. Look at verses 27 and 28 again: “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Here Jesus quotes from Daniel 7:13-14, in which he has a vision of the Son of Man, in which all peoples and nations will serve him in his everlasting dominion. Now that certainly is a message of hope. 

There is more hope in this gospel in the closing verses. Jesus exhorts us to “be on guard.” Being on guard is not something passive, it is as he goes on to say, not allowing our hearts to be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the worries of this life. In case you’re wondering what dissipation means, well one of its meanings is expending or wasting energy without getting anywhere—kind of like spinning your tires when you are stuck in a snowdrift and not getting anywhere. As for drunkenness, well, as you know, some folks drink too much to try and escape their problems, only to discover that the problems only get worse. And, of course, several studies have shown that people who allow the worries of this life to control them can and often do end up with serious health issues, as well as may fail to act in hopeful ways because their worries paralyze them. 

In contrast, being on guard, being alert at all times and praying give us the capacity to act with a living hope in this world. 

Ironically, it is often those who face considerable sufferings who model for us the capacity to act with a living hope in this world. One such person is Bishop Desmond Tutu, who recently celebrated his 90^th birthday. Listen to his following words of wisdom.

We are His (God’s) children, created in His image, made for love and laughter, caring and sharing. I am filled with hope for the future. In spite of much to the contrary, the world is becoming a kinder, safer place. It is God’s world, and He is in charge. His gifts of goodness and kindness, reason and understanding, science and discovery are showered upon us. Revel in these gifts, enjoy them, share them, and this new millennium will become a highway of peace and prosperity for all.¹

Some people who, I think, are doing just that were interviewed on a CBC news program recently. They are engineering students at the University of Calgary. Wanting to live out their hope in this world to make their contribution to slow down climate change, they came up with a wonderful and creative plan. They realise that for many people electric vehicles are still too expensive, moreover they are difficult even to find for those who wish to purchase one. So these engineering students are presently in the process of converting a gasoline car into an electric car. They have removed the gas engine and installed an electric motor. There are other parts of the car that they also have to change in order for it to work. I’m sure they will succeed, and hope that they will inspire others to convert gas vehicles into electric ones too. 

You and I may not be engineers, or someone as famous and gifted as Bishop Tutu—however, I believe that in our small ways we can have a living hope in this world. How? Well, by carefully reading and studying the Bible and responding by even little acts of faith. Acts such as coming to church to worship and encouraging one another. Acts of phoning or visiting those who might be ill or lonely or shut in. Acts such as praying for one another, the larger church, and the world. Acts such as purchasing environmentally-friendly products and cutting down on wastes that pollute the land, water and air. Acts such as supporting the work of Canadian Lutheran World Relief—their various projects around the world do make a difference, and their project to help the BC residents devastated by the recent unprecedented flood. Acts such as supporting local charities and organisations, like, for example, the Women’s Shelter. These all may seem small, yet together, with more and more people acting with a living hope in these ways, we do make a difference, with the help of God and his grace working in and through us. For that, thanks be to God! 

1 Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon, editors, Prayers for a Thousand Years: Blessings And Expressions Of Hope For The New Millennium (HarperSanFrancisco, 1999), p. 6.

Sermon on Rev 21:1-6

Sermon for East Central Cluster Worship & Meeting, Alberta & the Territories Synod, ELCIC, based on Rev 21:1-6 (5 Easter Yr C), by Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson, Bethel Lutheran Church, Camrose on April 19, 2016.

Rabbi Dr. Raymond Apple tells the story about a man from a village who came to the big city and found that everyone was staring at him. He was certain it was because he was wearing a shabby old suit, so he went to the tailor and bought a smart new set of clothes. But people still stared, so he went back to the tailor and complained.

   The tailor said, “There’s nothing wrong with your new suit, but the problem is that you’re wearing it on top of the old one. No wonder people think you look strange!”1

   The old and the new. One of our deepest longings is for the new. I think that’s why we often ask one another: “What’s new with you?” Yet, at times—even though we may not like to admit it— are we a bit like the man wearing the old suit under the new one, when we feel threatened by the new or do not like the new? Sometimes we are reluctant to give up the old. Unlike the man wearing his new suit on top of the old one, the writer of Revelation describes a newness wherein the first heaven and first earth had passed away and the sea—the ancient symbol of chaos and foreboding—was no more. He claims to have seen a vision of a new heaven and a new earth, and a new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. A vision that looks a lot like what we find in the Book of Isaiah. In verse five, he quotes the one sitting on the throne, speaking these words of promise: “See, I am making all things new.” So, count them, four times in the course of these six verses he speaks of a new reality, a new type of existence, a new creation.

   Yet, according to the Greek word—kaina, not nea—employed here for new, it has the connotation of newness based on some kind of continuity with the old; newness by improving upon what existed before. That got me thinking about how we see and experience the new in our lives.

   Starting at the beginning, we were all born into this world, thanks to two human beings—a mom and a dad. I remember the day that our daughter, Anna was born. I witnessed her birth, cut the umbilical cord, and held her in my arms for the first time. For me it was a holy moment as she stared at me with her lovely blue eyes. I was filled with awe and wonder at the gift of life. The newness of her life changed both Julianna and yours truly forever—giving both of us a newfound hope for the future. 

   There is, for us Christians, another kind of new-birth, as we are brought to the baptismal font. God names and claims us as his children; we become a new creation by being baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus.

   When we observe God’s creation, the natural world, it seems that new life is also born out of the old; coming from what existed before.  New plants, animals, reptiles, etc., come from what existed before. The same is true regarding new creations and inventions of human beings. For example, the cars and computers of today were improved upon from earlier, more primitive forms of these things; even the first cars and computers had to be made with some existing materials.

   So in this vision of Revelation is there a complete newness in the new heaven and new earth and new Jerusalem, similar to the origins of creation when God created out of nothing; or are the new heaven and new earth and new Jerusalem somehow a renewed, restored heaven, earth and Jerusalem? From other Jewish apocalyptic literature and from other New Testament texts such as Rom 8:18-21 and 1 Cor 15; the apostle Paul seems to see some sort of new existence coming from what existed before. Even in the gospel resurrection narratives, the risen Christ comes to life from the crucified, dead Jesus. 

   So I find it rather instructive then that the writer of our Revelation pericope describes his vision of the new heaven and the new earth and the new Jerusalem as a new form of existence wherein God’s people will have their tears wiped from their eyes, death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.  

   In my context as a chaplain, I think that these words of promise are very comforting—just as they likely were for the early Christians in the Roman empire facing suffering and persecution. Our residents will not have to continue to shed tears and cry over all of the personal losses and the losses of their loved ones and friends who are no longer with them. Our residents who suffer from so many different forms of disease; as well as everything breaking down and shutting down from the aging process can find meaningful hope in a future without pain; a future without drugs and their nasty side-effects to relieve them of their pain. A perfect state of existence without sin, death and evil. Such newness is what we too deeply long for. An existence of complete and perfect relationships filled with love and peace—which we already have an inkling of when: we hold a new-born child in our arms for the first time; when we say our final good-bye to a dying loved one; when the poor are fed; the naked are clothed; the homeless refugees find a new home; the prisoner and the shut-in, and the sick are visited, healed and made whole; when we are not oppressed by or preoccupied with the past; when we live fully in the present by learning from the past and look forward with hope to the future; when we gather round God’s word and sacraments and invite all sinners to join us and become members along with us of the family of God living in perfect community with one another and with our God.

   So, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, what do you see? The Good News is both gift and promise from the one who loves and graces us unconditionally, saying: “See, I am making all things new.” And let the people say: “Amen.”  

       

1 Rabbi Dr. Raymond Apple, “Two suits at once – Ekev,” July 21, 2013, at: www.oztorah.com/. 

Sermon 3 Lent Yr A