We Need John the Baptizer

 

If you are wondering what happened to my sermon for the Second Sunday of Advent, I didn't have to preach because we had our "every fifteen months or so" visit from Bishop Frank Logue. If you want to hear what he had to say, you can always check out the St. Barnabas YouTube Channel. 

And as we inch ever closer to the resumption of the chaos that was the administration of our president-elect when he was in office from 2017-2021...I have doing a lot of reading of the preachers of the Confessing Church movment in Germany during the reign of the Third Reich. I came across a sermon on portion of our Sunday Gospel. The preacher, Helmut Gollwitzer, used the Luke text to call out Germans for their cruelty to the Jews. He was preaching the Sunday following the infamous Kristallnacht, when the Nazis smashed the store front windows of Jewish establishments and burned their synagogues. 

While I don't anticipate the thugs of this incoming administration doing that, I do fear that there are going to be some truly awful things done to immigrants and very likely transgender people, who are less than one percent of our population, will also have a target on their backs. 

With that in mind...this is is the sermon I wrote. See what you think.

Texts: Collect for the Third Sunday in Advent, BCP 212

Luke 3: 7-18

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"Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us…."

That’s what we prayed at the beginning of the service.

And I have to wonder if that’s what motivates the outburst from John the Baptizer in our Gospel this morning.

I always love seeing the meme passed around on social media with the bearded guy in a brown sackcloth growling out: “Happy Advent, you brood of vipers!”

Because his words are so jarring…I think it’s easy for us to get too fixated on that first part of the Gospel.

There’s a lot more happening here…and we’ll get to that in a moment.

But first…just as a refresher…this Gospel lesson is found in the third chapter of Luke…beginning at the seventh verse.

In those first six verses we heard last week…as Bishop Logue noted in his sermon… Luke…the meticulous note taker and keeper of orderly records of everything… listed out the names of all the major powerful political and religious leaders of the day… the functional equivalents of who is president…who serves in the U.S. Senate all the way down to the mayor of Valdosta. Names that the Jewish population would have easily recognized…and could make life easier or harder for the folks of that time.

And God…in God’s mission of redemption of the people…those huddled masses yearning to breathe free…surpassed all the prestigious leaders in the Roman Imperial matrix and went straight to John…out in the wilderness conducting his baptisms in the Jordan River….and gave him the charge.

God tapped him to live out the words of the prophet Isaiah…serving as a prophetic witness himself of the new thing that was coming into the world.

John has been loud.

He’s attracted the attention of people… a lot of people.

And among those coming out to see him are the very people John can’t stand.

See John was not just some lone guy doing his own thing out by the Jordan River.

He was the leader of a movement…the Essenes…a break away sect from the Judaism of the day.

The Essenes felt that Judaism wasn’t cutting it any more…and that the leadership had become corrupted by the forces of the Empire.

John and his disciples were seeking a purer form of the religion…getting back to the “true Judaism.”

So when the crowds start coming…and John sees tax collectors…who were Jews working for the Roman Empire…and Pharisees and Sadducees…who were the Jewish leaders he’d had a problem with in the first place…and soldiers…the locals who had come to serve the Empire under Herod…John starts demanding “Who sent you?!”

Not only is he angry…there’s an air of suspicion in his tone…which makes sense.

The world of John…the First Century Palestine…was full of uncertainty.

It was tumultuous.

And for anyone on the wrong side of the Empire…it was dangerous.

So it makes sense that he’s on guard.

John bellowing out an invective such as “brood of vipers” is the typical street back talking an underdog uses against their bully.

But can you imagine how this must have shocked the crowd?

It certainly isn’t the normal way to greet people who are coming to be baptized!

And given that these are people with positions and privilege…they could have taken this tongue lashing as reason to retreat into their shells again.

But something happens.

After John has dressed them down so thoroughly…demanded that they must “bear fruits worthy of repentance”…they stop.

They listen.

They ask, “What are we supposed to do?”

I have to wonder if John wasn’t a little bit surprised. 

Here he’s called them names and questioned their motives for coming out there…and now they’ve asked him…him…to tell them what they would need to do to show that they’ve truly had a change of heart…and demonstrate their willingness to repair the breeches in their society?

How should they make amends and live differently?

And so he tells them: got two coats…give one to the person who doesn’t have one.

Tax collectors: quit with your practice of tacking on an extra percentage for yourself. Just charge the tax owed.

Soldiers: heard what I said to the tax collectors? You get a salary. Don’t go twisting the arms of other poor Jews and basically stealing their lunch money.

In other words…live your lives in harmony and without brutality toward others who are living under this tyranny of Rome.

Such a scene is an important one for us to see in our own times and during this Advent season.

We need those John the Baptizer figures calling us to account…to wake us up to the ways in which we live and move and have our being that may be making things harder on others.

It can be things we’re not even conscious of because we live in a society that keeps us distracted from noticing what we ought to be paying attention to and questioning.

We see it with the whole debate about public schools and public libraries.

There is so much focus on banning books and trying to suppress knowledge…preventing us from getting to know each other better…that we are in fact becoming more and more isolated…and fragmented…and suspicious of each other.

There’s no harm in learning the story of our country through the eyes of her immigrants.

There are important lessons to be learned about what promises were made and promises broken to the indigenous populations.

And… hard as it may be to hear the true stories of the slave trade and the way our European ancestors made it acceptable to enslave Africans for profit…these are the real stories that remain as sins we’re still dealing with today.

Because such wrongs have lived on in the invisible lines of where people can live…which influences whether they have good schools or even something as basic as a grocery store nearby.

When we learn each other’s stories…and listen to the experiences of people different than ourselves…we begin to form stronger communal bonds.

This can lead us to question other things that we seem to take as “just how things are”:  

Why is it that some kids must depend on their schools in order to get proper nutrition and then families have to scramble in the summertime?

Why is it that city and county own buildings that stand empty, but they can’t seem to figure out affordable housing?

When we insist on going to stores on holidays, do we remember that the person working may be having to take time away from their family for our convenience?

John the Baptizer told the crowd he baptized with water…but what he also did was to trouble the waters of his time.

He told them they needed to start waking up and paying attention to the needs of those around them.

We need to hear that message too.

Because…as our opening collect said…”we are sorely hindered by our sins.”

Not just our personal wrong doings or slights.

There are things that have been and are still being done in our name that are counter to our baptismal promises to seek and serve Christ in all people…and respect the dignity of every human being.

Those acts…whether we actively participate in them or not…still require us to stop and listen…

And we are left with that same question: “What should we do?”

We should begin with where God meets us…in our own bodies.

It begins with our self-care.

It’s like the instructions we always here on the airplane. If for some reason the cabin starts losing pressure and the oxygen mask drops down…put your own mask on first and then help your child or other fellow traveler.

But if we’re breathing fine…then do tend to that person who isn’t.

We should raise our voices to attract attention to those people…and those places that aren’t doing OK.

Because in caring enough to notice…and in the giving and the receiving…we build up community.

And building community…strengthening the bonds between people… that’s the true joy of this season of expectation and celebration of God’s gift to us in Jesus.

Because building community and empathy and trust…is the work of Jesus.

The one who is even greater than John…the one who points the way to Love…and coming at a time when Love’s presence is most needed.

May we be the bearers of the light of joy.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

Don't Give up on Hope

 

We're starting a new church year with a Gospel focus on Luke. And as always the first Gospel reading is one that sets a scene of a people living with uncertainty and things falling apart around them. 

What timing for us as we face a world that is turning toward authoritarianism and anti-democratic "norms." 

Thankfully, the Gospel...as dire as it sounds...also is a story of Hope and of Love that overcomes all attempts to kill it. May that be the thing that we look to in these upcoming years.

Text: Luke 21: 25-36

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Happy Church New Year!

And welcome to Advent…a season of waiting and preparing for the coming of birth of Jesus.

We’re moving on from hearing stories from the Gospel of Mark…and turning our focus to the Gospel of Luke…with the usual smatterings of lessons from John as well.

Luke’s account of the life and ministry of Jesus is very orderly…and directed mostly to the newly arrived Gentiles into the faith in ancient times.

Luke also is a Gospel for the underdogs: caring for women, children, the sick and the poor are important to Luke…and they are the central characters in Jesus’s healings as told in this Gospel.

And since caring for widows and orphans and the downtrodden and destitute were commands made of Jews…once again…we must remember that Jesus is giving us a perfect demonstration of how to live as a faithful Jew.

His chief mission was not to start a church…but as Bishop Michael Curry says…Jesus was about starting a movement…to recapture the imagination of the Jewish population.

Unlike Mark…the writer of Luke’s Gospel was not a first-hand witness to Jesus. 

Luke follows most of Mark’s story…and adds some color and gives more examples of Jesus’s teachings in the form of parables.

As I like to say…Luke is a little bit like the Rogers and Hammerstein of the Gospels.

There are moments where something big happens in the story… so big that the characters must burst into song.

Now …that didn’t happen in today’s Gospel.

And if it did…I imagine it would not be a sweet and uplifting tune like the Magnificat.

Today’s Gospel would more likely be set to some screaming death metal guitars or a punk rock anthem.

“Signs in the sun…moon…stars…nations confused…roaring seas…powers of heaven shaken.”

If we’re having some déjà vu…it’s because this is the same “Little Apocalypse” language we heard two weeks ago as we were finishing Mark’s Gospel.

And for the original hearers of this message back in the First Century…they were a people who were feeling and reeling from cataclysmic events that had left them shaken. The attempted uprising against the Roman Empire had resulted in the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem for a second time…and the people had scattered in fear. To them…their world was crashing all-around them…and the promised return of Jesus…the Messiah…hadn’t happened as predicted.

We may not be able to relate to that sort of worldview…sitting here in 20-24 America. 

Or maybe we can understand it…in our own context.

Think of what it was like when Hurricane Idalia swept through the area.

Large branches and whole trees came down on homes and cars.

Power was out for a period of time.

All of it causing the headaches of finding roofers…and tree removal companies…and adjusters.

And then…just as things were coming back to something more normal…there was the overnight hours of Hurricane Helene this September…a storm that was initially forecast to be much further east of Valdosta.

More trees crashing into homes…blocking streets…the whole landscape of Valdosta State’s main entrance off North Patterson Street showed that nature had decided to clear cut the campus forest.

Power poles all around the area were snapped in two.

So many were without electricity for days and weeks.

Even the people in the higher elevations in the Carolinas were not spared as Helene’s rains wiped out whole areas with mudslides.

And all this coming after living through the COVID pandemic which seems to have left everyone more irritable and impatient than they were before 2020.

With wars overseas…and our anger-fueled politics in this country causing us to become the Divided States of America…maybe we can tap into those fears that our biblical ancestors were experiencing when the Roman Empire was trampling them down.

And that’s where it becomes important to hear again Jesus saying…”raise up your heads…your redemption is near…because even when heaven and earth pass away…my words will not pass away.”

Just as the prophet Isaiah offered comfort to the exiles returning from Babylon…Jesus is saying to the disciples of then…AND now… if we experience feeling as if the tectonic plates of our lives are shifting… hang on to my words… my love… my peace… my hope.

That’s what we need to always keep in front of our eyes.

It’s no mistake then…that on this First Sunday of Advent… as we hear disquieting words of people fainting from fear and foreboding of what is coming…we are lighting a candle for hope.   

This hope is the promise that nothing…not death…not rulers…not things present or things to come…or any powers…will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:38-39).

It’s this hope burning like the flame on that candle that represents a light so powerful that no darkness can overcome it (John 1:5).

People will try.

There are always going to be those who push fear and attempt to snuff out that powerful fire of Love by cutting people down…and telling them the lies that they don’t matter…that our lives aren’t worth anything.

But hope is always there to remind us that if God loved the birds and the bees and the lilies in the field…then guess what: God loves you and me even more!

This is same hope that the 20^th century theologian Howard Thurman found as the source of encouragement in the face of the racism and white supremacy in the country during his days.

Thurman understood that it was the hope found in the life of Jesus…who stood up to the hypocrisy and cruelty of the systems that existed in the First Century…that pointed the way for all those who have ever felt like their backs were against the wall.

By drawing upon that hope…anyone who has ever felt like one of the left behinds or forgotten could keep their light shining within their heart.

Because ordering one’s inner life around the teachings of Jesus provided that outer shell of protection from the furious fearful winds kicked up by those committed to darkness.

And that’s the key here to hope…

We must pay attention and order our inner lives…and focus on that sixth sense that tells us God is with us…God is living and breathing through us. And God is never far from us or leaving us to fend for ourselves.

Stick close to that source of light and hope…and make room in your hearts for the mercy and love of God to be your guide through this season and beyond.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

"My Kingdom Is Not From This World" A Sermon for the Last Sunday After Pentecost

 If you have been following this blog with the texts of my sermons, I would hope that you have figured out that while I am a Christian, I do not support the Christian Nationalist agenda that is mobilizing to take control of our government. I do not support the posting of the Ten Commandments in classrooms. I do not support mandate that teachers trained in math or science take on the additional role of being a pastor. I do not want public schools to take the place of the church in any way, shape, or form.  If you want your child to learn about Jesus and to become familiar with the Holy Trinity of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit...please...PLEASE...bring them and yourself to church. We would LOVE to see you on Sunday morning! 

This sermon for "Christ the King" Sunday was my anti-Christian Nationalist sermon in its most explicit sense. There is simply no basis for anyone to ever claim the Jesus of the Bible as one who ever wanted to have a 'nation'; hence all these efforts to use the power of the state to indoctrinate children into the Christian faith run totally counter to what should be our practice as Christians. Our role is not to dominate, but to serve. And through our service, we show the love of God as manifest in Jesus. 

When I preached this sermon at St. Barnabas, not a single person said "Amen." How about you? 

Text: John 18:33-37

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All hail the power of Jesus’s name…O King Divine!

Crown him with many crowns!

Because… on this last Sunday of the eternally long season of  “After Pentecost”…we celebrate Jesus Christ as the King of kings…the Lord of Lords…the most mighty of the mighty….

He’s the top dog!

The big Kahuna!

But…

….he never lifted a weapon.

….never called for bloodshed.

….never proclaimed himself “mighty” or a “king” in that strong man sort of way.

Jesus was never into that type of power.

So as kings go…he’s a really strange one!

That’s why he completely confounds Pontius Pilate.

The brutal and pompous Roman Governor had just arrived in Jerusalem.

He and his army were there for the Passover celebration to make sure those uppity Jews didn’t get any strange ideas about challenging the Empire.

In this Gospel exchange…Pilate is suspicious of Jesus.

 

He seems to have heard a rumor that there was this

Interloper…some weird itinerant rabbi doing amazing deeds among the people.

Some were saying this new guy was a “king.”

Kings…in the minds of the ancient world…weren’t like a King Charles in England…who is just a constitutional figurehead.

A king in the days of the Roman Empire would have much more authority.

They could amass armies and invade territories and pillage and plunder.

Given that there was a lot of discontent among the Jews…and the Zealots were looking for a means to overthrow the Roman Empire…anyone claiming to be a “king” was seen as an insurrectionist.

Pilate was probably expecting this “King of the Jews” to be a more brash and brazen character.

But the Jesus who appears before Pilate doesn’t come in fighting or shouting.

He’s in a simple tunic …not even carrying a stick let alone a sword.

His only weapon is his words. And his words were love.

We might hear the scoffing and incredulous tone in Pilate’s voice:

“Are you…hmmmm….(air quotes) the King of the…ugh…Jews?”

Unphased…and unwavering…Jesus does what a good rabbi does. He responds with a question.

“Do you yourself know this about me or did you get it from somebody else?”

Now Pilate is not only puzzled…but Jesus has just insulted his prejudice.

You see: Pilate despises the Jews…and Jesus just suggested that by asking if he’s the King of the Jews…Pilate must be a Jew himself…looking to address his king.

Pilate angrily dismisses this ridiculous idea that HE is a Jew.

But he’s still operating out of this mindset that a “king” must be some kind of a strong man.

And yet…here’s this non-combative guy playing mind games with him.

He demands to know what’s this really all about?

Why have the Roman sycophants of Judaism turned Jesus over to him?

And that’s when Jesus really messes with Pilate.

“My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over…”

“My kingdom is not from this world.

I am not the leader of any nation.

I am not an authority riding on horseback…or wrapping myself in any flag of any kind.

I do not need nor do I seek power over anyone.”

This is the revolutionary vision of Jesus…the totally countercultural way in which Jesus asserts his kingship.

It’s what we’ve been hearing every week from Mark…which then gets picked up by Matthew and Luke…and each one of them adding a little more to the story here…fleshing out this scene over there.

It’s the Jesus of John’s Gospel…the Jesus who is the Word made into mortal flesh to live…teach…heal…and die as one of us.

Every time the people tried to make Jesus a king in the way it was understood in the First Century…Jesus would somehow manage to dodge the crowd and make his escape.

When he was famished and out in the wilderness and Satan kept whispering in his ear that if he would just give up on God and worship this Tempter of his soul instead…he could be king.

Not just of one country.

He could have the whole world be a single Jesus Nation!

And Jesus said no to it all.

“My kingdom. Is not. From. This. World.”

It’s one of the most curious things about the Christian faith.

Those of us who follow Jesus…have met and come to know God through the life…ministry…death…and resurrection of Jesus…are aligning ourselves not with dominance…and some bullying political power source.

We are following a compassionate man.

A king who rules not from a throne…but from the cross.

We see in this one we call our Savior:  a man who sits down with those who others see as the expendables…and the unimportant of society.

This king was born on the road…in a stable full of animals… to human parents living under an occupation.

From the very start of his earthly life…Jesus’s kingship was to live and move and have a kinship with the vulnerable of creation.

This is not very king-like…even by our standards here in the 21^st Century.

Conventional wisdom of the rest of the world counts the life of this Jesus as weak.

So then what do we make of this idea of the poor and weak…and the willing-to-suffer Jesus being our “king of kings”?

Why is our king not a warrior?

It’s a really tough and sobering question for the church…which was only made more difficult when the Emperor Constantine in the 4^th Century had his big “a-ha” moment…and converted to Christianity and decided that the worldly kingdom of the Roman Empire was now also the kingdom of God.

The Church has gone through ups and downs and schisms and break ups…as generations upon generations call for it to remember as the old hymn says that it’s true “one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord.” (Hymn #525)

And the kingdom of Jesus is not of this world.

The citizenship we hold in this kingdom as ones aligned with Jesus calls us to a different land…and bigger understanding.

We are ask to see beyond borders and barriers.

It’s not about any one nation;

it’s about being called into a relationship that lifts our hearts and minds…our bodies and souls…to a place where there is no longer “us” and “them.”

The kingdom of Jesus is a spiritual and mental shift to put aside all our earthly aspirations to dominate another.

Our citizenship in this kingdom is about transformation…and learning once and for all that we are all siblings…adopted children of God…created for the purposes of helping each other…caring for the disenfranchised among us…rejoicing with one another in good times…while holding space and being present to each other in our moments of pain and doubt.

In African culture…this is called Ubuntu…a recognition of the humanity of another person.

The late Nelson Mandela used Ubuntu as the philosophical practice to help move South Africa beyond its sinful past of apartheid.

It speaks to the idea of human kindness…mutual caring…and connection that builds up a community.

That takes an intentional effort to make it happen.

It takes each person having the willingness to do the work of living and growing into our faith by seeking “peace and justice for all people and respecting the dignity of every human being.” (BCP, 305)

Being at someone’s hospital bedside…taking food and clothing donations to the shelter…preparing meals for people: all of these are examples of the way we put our faith into action…and build and strengthen ourselves and each other. Demonstrate what it means to follow a king of Love.

Growing up into the people of God…standing taller on the side of Love…even in the face of those bullies who call our compassion “foolish” or “weak” in fact makes us stronger…and better citizens of the kingdom of Jesus.

Because to those who are the marginalized…our weakness looks bold and bright and amazing against a backdrop of anger…fear and hatred.

The more visible we are as the followers of a Jesus who served rather than sought to be served…the more we conform our lives to his ways…the more we will be a helper to those seeking love and acceptance.

Earth will become just a little bit more like heaven.

And there will be much rejoicing in the kingdom of Jesus.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

Things Fall Apart...And It's OK

 

The Second Temple of Jerusalem by Alex Levin

Well, the scriptural hits keep coming in this post-election season. 

Nothing like having "The Little Apocalypse" in a very shortened version to work with for preaching after a week of announced nominees for Cabinet positions who are horribly unqualified and even dangerous. I mean, a guy who was under investigation by his own party for sex trafficking minors as the potential attorney general of the United States?! A man who is a rabid anti-vaxxer and claims to have a dead worm in his brain to lead the Department of Health and Human Services? A defense secretary who thinks our military is too "woke" because women are allowed into combat roles? And we're going to let a woman who has a warm relationship with one of our worst enemies be in charge of our national security? 

It's cartoonish and outlandish. And a dangerous game of chicken to see how far the Republican-controlled Senate will bend to the president-elect's will. 

The one upside from the Gospel reading: we know that, in the end, God didn't make the crucifixion the end of the story of Jesus. Nothing was easy, but eventually...goodness, Love, and light prevails. 

We just have to keep that hope alive and not give in or accept despair as the answer.

See what you think.

Texts: Mark 13:1-8, 1 Samuel 2:1-10, the Collect for Proper 28, BCP 236

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We’re going to try an exercise.

Close your eyes.

Take a breath in and let it out.

Now imagine a structure…a huge building.

It’s made of rocks the size of a Harley Davidson motorcycle.

There are magnificent gold-plated shields hanging in a decorative fashion on the walls.

There are huge towers.

People come in through arched entry ways…thirteen to fourteen feet high.

There are Corinthian columns and a series of several stone steps that lead into a courtyard the size of a football field.

Keep that structure in your mind.

 Now open your eyes.

That building…the temple of Jerusalem…captured the imagination of the disciples.

It was huge! It was so big…so powerful…and it was the central gathering place for all of Jerusalem.

It was a market place.

A place of worship.

It was the biggest Wow of all the Wows… the mightiest symbols of strength for the Jews who were living under the control of the Roman Empire.

This is the Temple Herod Antipas had constructed.

The first Jerusalem Temple… the one King Solomon had built…was wrecked by the Babylonians…many centuries earlier.

 

It took years and years to build it again.

So there was some pride among the Jewish disciples when they gazed upon this massive building.

And now Jesus says…it’s all coming down.

Everything.

Not one stone left on top of another stone.

This scene is what follows Jesus’ lecture on the greed of the treasury. 

And just like with the treasury…Mark tells us that Jesus is sitting opposite the Temple…as he predicts its demise.

The disciples have that pit in the stomach feeling when they hear all this from Jesus.

Perhaps some of us also felt a little queasy listening to how something so grand and prominent and important is destined for destruction.

It’s as if September 11^th…and the twin towers of the World Trade Center…came crashing to the earth again.

And Jesus says, “It’s OK. This needs to happen.”

But why?

This whole chapter in Mark’s Gospel is what scholars call “The Little Apocalypse.”

It gets that name because of all the language about earthquakes and upheaval and wars and such.

The word apocalypse means “revelation.”

And there’s a lot being revealed here.

So let’s pull back the curtain on the scripture and take a look at what was happening at the time that Mark was putting pen to papyrus.

That will give us some appreciation for this Gospel reading…and may give us some insights for our lives now in the 21^st century.

Scholars have dated Mark’s Gospel to just before the second destruction of the Temple about 70 CE.

There was a war between Jewish Zealots and the Roman Empire.

The Zealots were the rebel forces determine to overthrow their Roman oppressors.

Rome…which had more might and military was also in the throes of chaos with internal battles occurring in their power structure.

Because Rome wasn’t always well organized…the Zealots would win the occasional battle.

But their main focus became protecting the Temple in Jerusalem.

And there was heavy recruitment to join the Zealots in defending the Temple.

The community hearing Mark’s Gospel were living in this time.

They were among those being asked to take up arms.

So this conflict and these realities were the constant news feed happening on the street.

When Jesus talks about hearing of “wars and rumor of wars” that’s what was in the air.

And the Jesus of Mark…was not a warrior of the Zealot-kind.

Jesus was…and is… a countercultural figure.

His mission didn’t involve picking up a sword as the answer to the oppressor.

Protecting the Temple would not be the priority for Jesus.

His fight was to free people from power structures…including those of a temple that had become an exploitative system under the Roman authorities.

This is also another pivotal moment in the journey of Jesus to the cross.

He’s moving from acts of healing and his ministry…and now is delivering one last sermon to his followers about what is coming as they enter Jerusalem.

It’s going to be rocky.

It’s going to be scary.

People are going to be coming after you.

And it’s going to be OK.

He likens all of this to being like a woman in labor.

And any mother can tell you that labor is not the most joyful moment of pregnancy.

And as any person concerned with women’s healthcare can attest to…pregnancy can be a dicey and dangerous adventure…especially with the first child.

But once the labor is through…and the child is born… there is rejoicing.

There is new life… and a future.

These birth pangs…these endings…this tearing down of the Temple…Jesus says…

”Yeah. It’s gonna go down.

But don’t give up.

Don’t fall into the trap of hate and despair.

Keep your eyes and your heart open to love and hope.”

These aren’t simply saying platitudes he’s making up on the spot.

Just as Hannah sang her song of vindication against the mighty… Jesus’s words are meant to remind those listening to him of the warnings of their Jewish prophets…such as Zechariah.

Amy-Jill Levine…a New Testament scholar at Vanderbilt…notes that there’s nothing new about him warning of false prophets.

Those who pass themselves off as the self-proclaimed mouthpieces for God… existed before Jesus….written up in the Book of Deuteronomy.

These cautions from Jesus should not be new to us either.

If we have been gathering to worship…

if we have been receiving the sacrament of bread and wine in the faithful belief that we are being re-membered into the body of Christ…

then we have a place in this experience with Jesus of knowing that Love is the way toward life…and that light that keeps us moving in a Godward direction.

As our collect this morning says…are holy Scriptures are written for our learning.

We hear this Gospel, we read these words with the intention that we are to mark these words…learn from them…inwardly digest them.

Jesus offers these words of warning us so that we are not  blinded by the bright shiny objects.

We must be careful about putting too much stock into the things we think are great and powerful.

Finally…Jesus gives us these words as a preparation for how to live through moments that feel peculiar and unsettled.

We call that “liminal space.”

Liminal spaces are those times in our lives where things feel neither here nor there.

Grief is often described as a “liminal space.”

It can feel foggy…and strange.

Almost as if we’re moving at one speed while everything else around us is functioning at a different almost frenetic pace.

When we’re in that time…a place between what was and what is coming…we have Jesus telling us to understand that we will go through difficulties and hardships…but—as the poet Maya Angelou says—just like air…we will rise.

This is the promise of Jesus: that we are never alone.

And this is the promise of hope in everlasting life:

that no matter what…those who keep their eyes fixed on the love and light of God will not get lost in the dark and despair.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.