In the Midst of the Chaos (Advent 1)

Jeremiah 33: 14-16 & Luke 21: 25-36
Roger Lynn
November 29, 2015
1st Sunday in Advent
(click here for the audio for this sermon)

Wars and rumors of wars. Climate change and environmental disasters of every sort. Paris bombings and school shootings. Disease and accidents. “In the bleak mid-winter...” is how the ancient carol puts it. We live in frightening times and the forces of fear often seem to hold sway. It’s no wonder that some people hear the apocalyptic words of Luke’s Gospel and believe they are about these times in which we live. “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.” (Luke 21:25) Which, of course, they are, but, interestingly enough, not at all in the way many people think. 

In the midst of the chaos in which we live, we long for a better tomorrow. “The days are surely coming...” is how Jeremiah puts it. (Jeremiah 33:14) We want to be able to believe that the darkness will not have the final word. And so it is that apocalyptic language such as that which appears in our reading from Luke’s Gospel has often been a source of comfort for people. It is easy to turn the words into a secret code that somehow reveals a timetable for when God will finally act to put things right in the world. 

The problem, of course, is that such an understanding makes it very easy to start believing that God is not active and present now. God becomes the great policeman in the sky, who, for some unfathomable reason is choosing to wait, but someday soon will show up to sweep the neighborhood clean and make it safe for good, decent folk to live. The “bad guys” will get what they deserve and the “good guys” (read here “us”) will finally be rewarded. 

I believe that Jesus had something else in mind – something both more immediate and more eternal. To discover just what that might be it is helpful to remember the message with which he began his ministry. “The reign of God is at hand!” Throughout his ministry Jesus seeks to help people get in touch with this basic reality – God is here, now, in the midst of life. So when we hear the apocalyptic words of Luke 21 – “Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” – it speaks not of some future coming of God, but of an always and eternal present. “So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” Not near as in “not quite here yet” but near as in “as close to you are your breath.” We find God not outside of what’s happening around us, not beyond the present troubles, but in the very midst of the chaos – right where we need God the most!

The poet Mary Oliver has this to say on the matter in her poem, “The Fist” –
There are days
when the sun goes down
like a fist,
though of course

if you see anything
in the heavens this way
you had better get

your eyes checked
or, better still,
your diminished spirit.
The heavens

have no fist,
or wouldn’t they have been
shaking it
for a thousand years now,

and even
longer than that,
at the dull, brutish
ways of mankind –

heaven’s own
creation?
Instead: such patience!
Such willingness

to let us continue!
To hear,
little by little,
the voices –

only, so far, in
pockets of the world –
suggesting the possibilities
of peace?

Keep looking.
Behold, how the fist opens
with invitation.

Several years ago I wrote a column for the newspaper in Moscow. The words I wrote then speak also to what I’m saying to you now.

As many of you know, I’ve been walking the labyrinth for several months now. I find this ancient spiritual practice to be a very experiential, metaphorical form of prayer. Whatever is happening in my life seems to find resonance with some part of the experience, from the twists and turns of the path, to the leaves I find along the way. On more than one occasion the wind has come up just as I’ve reached the center, reminding me of the ongoing presence of God’s Spirit/Breath/Wind.

Last week I had a particularly powerful, and delightfully surprising, experience. There was a six inch blanket of snow covering the ground and I almost didn’t do my usual weekly walk. After all, I thought, the path would not be visible. But then it occurred to me that I could walk a spiral. And so I went. 

When I arrived it was a circular space of smooth whiteness. What I saw laid out before me was “all possibility.” The path was there, just waiting to be discovered. And it began to take shape only as I walked it – one step at a time. Slowly at first, and then more confidently as each layer was laid down, I moved towards the center – a center which was not yet even visible. And then I found myself turning sharply – almost dizzyingly – into a center which only in that instant emerged. I stood there in the beauty of that moment – seeing my breath – aware of the presence of the Spirit – grateful just to be alive. As I started out again I very quickly realized that I was not yet ready to leave. I needed to allow myself the gift of just being in that moment for a bit longer. When I finally did walk out, the path was there before me. It had, of course, been there all along. But only by stepping into the possibility – one step at a time – did it finally come clear.

So as we begin this Advent season, filled as it is with themes of watching and waiting, may we remember that the object of our anticipation is, in fact, already here. All around us there may be people who are filled with “fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” (Luke 21:26) But if we will keep our hearts open, if we will pay attention to the deep truth which lays just beneath the surface, we will discover the reality to which Jesus always seeks to point us – God is here, now, in the very midst of us. I invite you to spend some time making room for the presence of the Sacred in your life. Maybe that will take the form of walking the labyrinth. Maybe it will be sitting quietly in front of a candle. Maybe it will be in the midst of some active service in our community. Find what works for you. Just remember to pay attention and be open to the possibility of being surprised – even in the midst of the chaos.