One will be taken; one, left – 27 November 2016 – First Sunday of Advent

The religious imagination chews on images that sometimes clash and sometimes feed depth to each other. Such is the beginning of Advent, a time when we consider ultimacy.

In these weeks, if we prepare for the coming of the Holy One, we anticipate our ultimate salvation. If we ponder in these weeks our own finality and that of Earth itself, we practice living with the knowledge of oblivion and, in so doing, we hold what exists in the present of infinite value. Whichever path we emphasize in Advent, our comprehension of Jesus’ presence will be strengthen and altered by immersion in a story that is at once ancient and new.

Matthew 24:36-44

Jesus indicates that the time before the temple is destroyed will seem quite normal. People will be engaged in the activities of ordinary life—eating, drinking and marrying. But all of that normalcy will be swept away just like it was in the story of Noah's flood.

The image of “one taken and one left” is employed as a core element of the premillennial dispensationalist idea of the Rapture. It seems more likely that, following the image of the flood, to be “taken” is to be taken away in judgment or death, while being “left” is to remain alive.

Jesus reiterates his warning that no one knows when this flood of judgment will happen. Jesus' followers will not be surprised when the temple is swept away, together with the political and religious system built upon it. Instead, they will recognize it as God's vindication of Jesus.

This Advent text assists the Christian assembly to make spiritual preparation to greet the Lord. It is not difficult for us to be deceived by the apparent normalcy of daily life and fail to recognize that the risen Christ is ready to meet us at this hour and every hour, whether in prayer, service to the neighbor in need, worship or Bible reading. Advent summons us to be alert during all of ordinary life, recognizing that the living Lord is ever ready to break into our lives with saving power. – Aaron J. Couch

Isaiah 2:1-5

As the Christian assembly welcomes the season of Advent, it receives a word of promise that rings with hope for the coming of God and the triumph of peace. . . In the religious imagination of the ancient world, mountains were the “thin places” where one might encounter the divine. This passage announces that the Temple Mount will be recognized as the reality to which the Mesopotamian ziggurats aspired; the reality of which the Greek's stories of Mount Olympus were shadowy intuitions—the home of the living God on earth. . .

The exaltation of Zion points to the preeminence of Israel's God. The whole human family will discover the goodness of the Lord and will seek God's instruction (Torah). The result will be the end of warfare and lasting peace. People will realize they no longer need weapons that produce death, so they will transform them into farming tools for sustaining life. – Aaron J. Couch

Romans 13:11-14

Paul directs his readers' attention to the future and to the salvation that God will accomplish, because that future is what gives meaning and direction for believers in the present time. . . Paul employs the image of putting on the armor of light, which suggests that there is a struggle involved in embracing God's future fully in the present. He also uses the image of putting on Jesus Christ (Galatians 3:27) as a metaphor for baptism. The two “putting on” images may be considered roughly equivalent. The promises and character of Christ may serve as a strong defense against the enticement of a life lived only for personal gratification, which sadly will lead only into darkness. – Aaron J. Couch

Aaron Couch is a co-pastor of First Immanuel Lutheran Church in Portland, Oregon.

Homily Service 41, no. 1 (2007): 5-14.

Being Shaped Anew – 30 November 2014 – First Sunday of Advent

The words of the commentator to Homily Service for this Sunday in 2008 are true still today. All the problems of today are the same problems. They will persist… and so will the light that we celebrate coming into the world.

Before we can see the light, we have to know the darkness.

The lessons for this day are not uplifting, nor particularly hopeful. They include community laments, acknowledgments of sin, realities of destruction, despair, and chaos, as well as a sense of God's abandonment. But these are precisely the realities (albeit in a different context) that people sitting in the pews face today, as they grapple with the housing crisis, an anemic economy, a high unemployment rate, an exploding population that the earth cannot sustain, global warming, a painful war, and uncertainties over the future. Perhaps the proclamation and recognition that God's people have repeatedly grappled with similar realities in ages past, and have emerged with their faith not only intact but strengthened, will lay the groundwork for an Advent season based in faith and hope, with the expectation that regardless of what the future brings, God is indeed with us.  . . .

            – Carol J. Noren

So why does Advent begin in the realm of the Prince of Darkness when we are eager to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Light? Why do we drape our sanctuaries with the heavy purple of twilight rather than the illuminating rose of dawn? Why do we recount prophecies of the end of the world when we want to hear tidings of the beginning of a new creation? Why do we light only one candle when we want to ignite the full brilliance of God's glory?

It is a good question. So is this: Why do we continue to dwell in the darkness of injustice and oppression when God has already shown us justice and mercy in Christ? Why do we continue to engage in the darkness of armed conflict when the Prince of Peace has already walked among us? Why do we continue to pursue the darkness of greed and power when Christ came among us as a servant and called us to lives of service? Why do we continue to embrace the darkness of pride and selfishness . . . to rest in the darkness of satisfaction when there are others around us who still struggle under a blanket of poverty? . . .

The Good News of Advent is that our darkness is not complete nor is it final, for the Light of God dwelt among us, and still does, and will again. The Good News of Advent is that even in the utter darkness of our human sinfulness, we can light a single candle and God is here.

We begin in darkness because we are people. We do not remain in darkness because we are God's people. We begin in darkness, for we are human beings. We need not curse the darkness, for we know how to light a candle. It is an Advent candle.

            – John H. Barden

The prophet Isaiah (64:1-9) reminds YHWH “we are the clay, and you are our potter…” Advent gives us space and time to be re-made by the potter as we bump up against the cheerful demands of the season while hearing the laments of the scriptures.

The season calls us to rest before we find ourselves agog with frenzy. We sing the hymns that speak of quiet, hear the words of warning, gather with the people of God, and notice the light of only one candle… then two… and three... until there are four. This is the gift of a waiting time not a busy time.

While we are being moulded into the potter’s vision, Mark’s Gospel (13:24-37) tells us that we are to Keep Awake… Watch Out… Be Prepared… because there is a birth coming that is greater than all births, and this one will change the cosmos. You don’t want to miss it.

And none of us needs to miss it because the epistle of 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 assures the church that we are “not lacking in any spiritual gift” as we wait “for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

It is God who strengthens us.

Carol J. Noren is a Methodist who has served congregations in Minnesota.

John H. Barden is a Presbyterian pastor serving as Vice President for Admissions at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary in Texas. 

Homily Service 42, no. 1 (20 Oct 2008): 4-15.

Reign of Christ – 23 November 2014

In the church calendar, celebrating the Reign of Christ culminates the Time after Pentecost when we reach a sort of high point. The long green season has taught us many things about being church, and we have pondered our own congregations and our own hearts, the work of the church in every land, our outreach, the needs of our local community, and all that our ancestors have bequeathed to us in experiences and hopes.

All of that history and proclamation leans toward this day when we are taken to the heights: a vision of the one who rules over all things coming in glory with angels. As a judge, the ruler sits on the throne with the sheep and the goats from all nations gathered before him. The separation begins. We behold our own lives scrutinized and pronounced upon by the one who has every right to do so and does it with utter justice.

Because it is most alarming, what stands out in the Gospel reading is the condemnation of those who have not tended “the least of these.”

What stands out in the reading from Ezekiel is the shepherd’s promise to gather the sheep. Less prominent, but not lost in the prophetic voice, is the warning to those who are “fat and strong.” They are those who have had their fill of wealth and power without concern for the “least.”

Matthew 25:31-46

[W]e follow the way of Jesus Christ in caring for the hungry, the naked, the thirsty, the imprisoned. The least of these are those who are Christ in our midst. Was not our Lord hungry and thirsty? Was he not naked at that cross, imprisoned, shackled, nailed to the tree? To care for fellow members of the household of God is part of bearing our crosses for Christ and loving Christ. It is being the body of Christ to the body of Christ.

In his fourth-century sermon #272 on the Lord's Table, St. Augustine famously proclaimed, “Be what you see, receive what you are. If you are his body and members of him, then you will find set on the Lord's Table your own mystery.”

You have been taken. You have been blessed. You have been broken. And now, you have been given. Be the body of Christ to the body of Christ, to the least of these.

– Neal D. Presa was the Moderator of the 220^th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA).

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

The prophet speaks words from YHWH. The sheep, that is, the people of God, have experienced terrible days of “clouds and thick darkness” (v 12) and are scattered from their homeland (referring to the exile). YHWH comes to shepherd them back to their homeland. God will provide everything they need: good food, flowing waters, rest, and healing. God will favor the weak, lost, and injured but will punish those who use their authority for selfish gain.

God will act. God will be involved. God will act to restore the sheep—the people to their own home. After the in-gathering, God will provide a new leader—a new shepherd, David. YHWH, through the voice of Ezekiel, promises a different kind of leader than before.

– Eric T. Meyers serves as pastor to the Frederick Presbyterian church in Frederick, Maryland.

Ephesians 1:15-23

[T]he writer of Ephesians prays that the church may come to know [the] immeasurable greatness of God's power in Christ available to us.

Most of the time, we don't go around at school or at work or at home claiming that we have any kind of power. When we do want to gain power in certain situations, it's not the power of God at work in us, it's the sin of pride as we manipulate others to get what we want. Still, many times we are overwhelmed with the feeling that we are really powerless in the world today. The power being talked about in Ephesians is not worldly power by any means. This is not the kind of power that sends us to war, or suppresses others to build up ourselves. We are talking about King Jesus power—that makes us more than we are.

            – Kelly Lyn Logue is a pastor in the United Methodist Church.

Christ’s reign has one large focus on this day: Care for those in need… for those who sacrifice for others… for those in whom we see the one who died and rose for us.

Homily Service 41, no. 4 (21 July 2008): 139-147.