November 17, 2024
Rev. Mary Erickson
Hope Lutheran Church
Daniel 12:1-3; Hebrews 10:11-14, 19-25; Mark 13:1-8
The End of the World as We Know It
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
As I was reflecting on our assigned scriptural texts for today, I couldn’t help but think about the R.E.M. song “It’s the End of the World as We Know It.”
Our Old Testament and gospel texts today both hinge on end of the world. These passages fall under the biblical genre of Apocalyptic Literature. They deal with what happens at the end of the world as we know it.
Many of the world’s religions and cultures deal with end times. Viking lore speaks of Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods. The giants, the great wolf and the sea serpent defeat the gods and set the universe on fire.
We are nearing the end of our church year. And at each year’s end, the gospel readings always look to the end – the very end. All things come to an end, whether it be the end of this world, our life, or the end of our personal world as we know it. As the German proverb says: all things have an end, except a sausage, which has two.
Jesus and his disciples are at the Jewish temple in Jerusalem. It was constructed from some astonishingly huge stones. Even today, at the remaining Western Wall, you can see some of these behemoths. The disciples remark on their massive size.
And then Jesus says, “You see these stones? Do you see these impressive buildings? The day will come when they’ll be completely destroyed. Not one stone will sit upon another.”
Such a level of devastation is hard to fathom. But the day of Jerusalem’s destruction was just around the corner. About 35 years after Jesus walked this earth, forces of Rome would surround and sack Jerusalem. The temple was razed into a pile of rubble. It was the end of Israel’s world as they knew it.
The disciples want to know when this great cataclysm will take place. Jesus pivots from their question and speaks about something even greater, a tumult on a global scale. Nations will rise up against nations. There will be destructive natural catastrophes such as earthquakes. Famine will ravage the land.
The rest of Mark’s chapter 13 paints a picture of the end of the world. The chapter has been dubbed by biblical scholars as “the little apocalypse.” The chapter ends with the very verses we heard on the first Sunday of this liturgical calendar, on the first Sunday of Advent. Like the Norse sea serpent Jörmungandr, the head of our liturgical calendar circles the earth and swallows its own tail.
Mark chapter 13 concludes with the words we heard in Advent: “Beware, keep alert, for you do not know when the time will come.”
No we don’t. Just like we don’t know when our own personal end will come.
As was the theme of our children’s time, life is full of scary things. Like the disciples, we, too, are assailed by fear of what is to come. We fear the disaster of catastrophe, the fear of our own final day, fear of the forces over which we have no control.
But in his final comment in today’s reading, Jesus plants the seed of hope. He states: “This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.”
Birth pangs connote suffering, no doubt. But they aren’t the end; they’re the precursor to new life. There is a struggle, yes, but that struggle doesn’t spell the final chapter. They’re just the beginning. By God’s grace, something new is being borne.
As Jesus speaks these words, his own cruel end is already overshadowing him. And in his words about the destruction of the temple, the outcome of his own future is foreshadowed. The temple of his own body will be destroyed on Golgotha. But as he prophesied, in three days he will rebuild that temple. It will be a temple not made with hands. He will rise from his own grave. In his own ending, our new beginning will be borne.
We live now in this season of scary things. But we hold onto the surety of Christ’s triumph over all forces of darkness. He is our high priest. In his offering, he has written the outcome for all our endings.
So as we face the end of the world as we know it – the smashing of our dreams, the extinguishing of our lives, even the termination of the universe, we do so with the heart of the one who penned the letter to the Hebrews.
• We hold fast to the confession of our hope – without wavering. We set our eyes on the prize. Our hope in Christ is the prize.
• Secondly, we encourage one another. It’s a mutual struggle. But while facing our fears and discouragements, we support one another. When the going gets rough, we have each other’s backs. We cheer each other on.
• Thirdly, we engage in what we might call a righteous competition. Hebrews summons us: “In the face of our sorrows, let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.” This righteous competition translates our greatest hopes into action. We reveal and embody the love of Christ to a sorrowful world. A team, when hard pressed, they urge one another on. And that is what we do.
• And finally, let us not neglect to meet together. Here, in this place, we worship of our Christ who overcomes all things. As we meet together, here the Holy Spirit is also in our midst. And that Spirit works continually to build up this body we call the communion of saints.
The end of the world as we know it will certainly come. But in every ending, we believe that Christ shall write a new beginning. This is our belief. This is our hope. And hope shall not disappoint us.
