Dear Idris Elba, Jesus is Not Cancelling the Apocalypse: A Sermon on Luke 21:5–19

Thanks be to God?

Praise to you, O Christ?

Oh really? These are such delightful readings, and I am becoming increasingly convinced that Pastor Josh is quite strategic in the dates he asks me to preach among the good people of Holy Trinity.

I mean, aren’t today’s readings straight up delightful? That they give you the delightfully warm and fuzzy feelings of a calm and peaceful Jesus cradling a lil’ baby lamb in his arms? These readings, in a way, live into both; today’s readings give us a view of the broken reality of today’s world, actually attempting to scare the hell out of us. These readings also show what this world could be, realizing a hair on our head will not be harmed in the midst of so much earthly conflict and strife. Were there an easy way to decipher today’s Gospel, I would gladly tell you. Preachers from generations past would have said something, solved the issues of living in a world of where nation rises against nation, family member against family member. Yet here we are today, wondering, “Jesus, what do you mean?” I don’t know about y’all, but today’s Gospel kind of freaks me out.

So what does Jesus mean when he tells us that we need to beware that we could be led astray? What does he mean when he states that there will be wars and insurrections, nations and kingdoms will rise against one another, there will be earthquakes, famines, and plagues. What does Jesus mean when he says that anyone who follows him will be arrested and persecuted, be imprisoned, be brought before the powers that be? What does Jesus mean that we will be called not just to testify, but to testify among all that he just said? He’s actually not just telling us something; he is revealing something in the power of these words. This is an apocalypse; it’s hard when the present-day use of the word “apocalypse” has been relegated to disaster movies, and don’t get me wrong, I love me a not-so-good disaster movie. Just ask your pastor. But we have to re-engage with this word as followers of Jesus, not as consumers of the culture around us. We have to reframe the word “apocalypse” as not a disaster, but instead as a revealing. As a way of removing the scales from our eyes that the culture around us wants us to keep. We need to see the world for how it truly is, because nation is against nation. Kingdom is against kingdom. There are earthquakes and famines and plagues. People are being persecuted. Yet the culture around us wants to lull us into complacency. The culture around us wants us to say:

“Oh, that’s not in my town.”

“That’s not in my backyard.”

“That’s not happening to me.”

Yet Jesus’s words startle us, yes? An apocalypse actually is a destructive process, but not quite in the way to which we’re accustomed. An apocalypse is a crumbling of the untruth; it’s the eradication of what we were told is “true”, but that “truth” is controlled by a select few. These words of apocalypse are supposed to make the scales fall off of our eyes, that the world as it is is truly being revealed to us by the one who created it. What it means to truly be a follower of Jesus is being revealed to us.

One of the things of being a follower of Jesus is that we have to acknowledge that yes, he was resurrected, but he was also crucified. We have to acknowledge when we have not just a Gospel reading but a Hebrew Bible reading and an epistle that call us to task, we genuinely have to wonder what is God saying not just to the people of that time, but what is God saying to us today? God is telling us that the powers of the world want us to think that not my town, not my backyard, not me. But we’re called to think not turned inward on ourselves. Because wherever injustice is happening within God’s creation, it is happening to us too. Jesus uses powerful words to illustrate that these injustices are happening on a wide scale, and to be shook into a world now truly revealed to us, we have to truly recognize that the scale could be in our own homes. That the scale is truly in our own backyards and our own cities. And Jesus cries out for us to wake up.

If this injustice is happening to a sibling created in God’s own image, then that injustice is happening to the body of Christ. It is also happening to us. And God yearns for our response so that these injustices happen no more. That we not be turned inward, but face outward, to not just truly see what is happening to our neighbor in need, but to respond. Because it one part of the body of Christ faces harm, the entire body will be hurt. We may feel that we are far removed from that body, but if we are to proclaim that our bodies truly do matter to God and to one another, we must not just be fearful of the words that Jesus proclaimed, but we must also find our hope. God shows us that creation matters, from creating something from the void of nothing. God really shows us creation matters by risking everything, everything, in the full personhood of Jesus Christ. God shows us today by continuing to create us, within us, and through us that our bodies matter. That is why God wants us to wake up, to not just take notice, but to act. To testify. We need not be fearful, even though the text feels this way. Once we are shook awake, we realize that we are not alone in this work. Look around. We are here. No, seriously, look around. We are here. There are communities gathered to profess that yes, these words today are scary and confusing, but they are a call to action. There are siblings near and far that are also gathered to proclaim that death does not have the final say. These communities are gathered, some without buildings, some with the privilege of buildings. Because having a building is a privilege. Yes, this sanctuary, this building is lovely. We have strong memories of events of great magnitude that take place here, and memories of everyday life. But we must also remember that it is not the stones that carry these memories; it is us. We could say, “If these walls could talk…” yet they cannot. But we can. We can speak up, speak out. That is part of our call. And we are called to put flesh to the words we speak, to be embodied, to act. There is comfort in that this work, while it is difficult, is never done in vain. Nothing is ever wasted in God’s economy. We may think it is; I mean think of the disciples scattered after Jesus’ trial. After his beating at the hands of the state. At his crucifixion. That seems like such a waste. But it is not. Resurrection shows us that nothing is ever wasted. No word, no deed that is done in Christ’s name is ever done in vain, especially if they are done collectively. Do not be afraid, beloveds. We are told this repeatedly in Scripture. Do not be afraid.

Do not be afraid to testify. Do not be afraid to act. Because this work is not done in vain, and it is never done alone. Let us reveal what truly is, and what truly could be to one another.