Looking to the end

A Sermon preached on April 17^th, Easter IV, at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden

Acts 9:36-43, Revelation 7:9-17, John 10:22-30

So, this morning I thought I would talk about eschatology. Eschatology is the theology of the last things or the end times and not to be confused with escapology, which is what Houdini did when he escaped from chains and locked boxes. Although for some people, eschatology is a form of escapism, a way of ignoring or denying current problems by pushing them into the far, far future. 

Eschatology permeates the Bible. It is in the Old Testament, you find it in all the books of the prophets, especially in the Book of Daniel in his wonderful vision of one like a Son of Man coming “with the clouds of heaven, and he came up to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him. And to him was given dominion, glory and a kingdom that all the peoples, nations and men of every language might serve him.” (Daniel 7:13-14) Eschatology is part of the Lord's Prayer: “thy kingdom come, thy will be done.” Jesus often talks about the end times: “At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.” (Luke 21:27) Paul writes about the last things: “After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.” (1 Thessalonians 4:17) And the whole book of Revelation is about the end. At its core, eschatology is simply a reminder that God not only has the first word, but also the last word. And that is a good thing!

What is not always a good thing however, is how some Christians approach eschatology in general, and the Book of Revelation in particular. One article I recently read summarized the problem very nicely: “the expectation of other-worldly realities quickly degenerates into an ethically, politically, or ecologically irresponsible attitude to the here and now.” By that the author meant the tendency to simply withdraw from practical, social, and political concerns, or to tolerate conditions of injustice and oppression because the present state of affairs is seen as temporary and penultimate. It won’t last and will eventually be replaced by a “kingdom of peace and justice and unimaginable bliss.” 

Perhaps even more damaging are those forms of  obsession with the end-times, with the coming apocalypse that take the biblical promises that God will fashion a new heaven and a new earth as a sort of notice served from on high that this current world is already marked for destruction. “This can be seen as a license to treat the world and its resources carelessly, or even in a ruthlessly exploitative manner.”[1] This attitude is one motivation behind the denial of climate change that is prevalent among some evangelical Christians; the other motivation, particularly on the part of those with a vested interest in fossil fuels, is greed. In extreme cases this attitude can be taken to the - frankly blasphemous - conclusion that we can actually hasten the coming of the end times not just be rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem, but by causing the very destruction that Revelation and other apocalyptic writings describe. The whole concept is based on the false premise that God will destroy and replace the world and creation, when in fact what God promises is renewal and redemption for all of creation: the new heaven and the new earth will be fashioned out of the old. 

The opposite approach is to ignore the whole topic and to take what we might call a secular Christian approach, focusing on the here and now, and on improving our current situation. This attitude is based on the myth of progress, the idea that all natural and historical processes have an inbuilt tendency towards perfection. Put simply, things get better as time passes. Well, some things do, and some things don’t. Our ability to heal and to cure has certainly got better, unfortunately also our ability to kill one another. I still prefer this approach to the first one. Improving our lot, caring more for one another, and for the world God has given us to look after is a good thing. But without a vision, goal, or purpose beyond ourselves, it can easily become self-serving and even selfish in the definition of those who deserve care, in the way care is restricted on family, tribal, or national lines. 

What about John of Patmos, the author of the Book of Revelation? What was his approach to eschatology, to the end times? He wrote down his vision as an encouragement for his Christian communities, the seven churches, in Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea. It was meant to encourage them in the here and now. To give them the strength and courage and the hope to continue worshipping and acting as Christians, to carry on witnessing to the living God in their lives, to continue with their transformation, even in times of persecution. 

John’s vision of a heavenly reality, of God’s ultimate victory, is something for them to hold on to. God has won and we share in that victory. The song that the “great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” sings is a song of victory. God’s promise of salvation is physical, emotional, and spiritual: “The one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:16-17) Like a mother, God wants nothing more than to wipe every tear from our eyes. This is the same message of salvation and protection that Jesus gives in today’s gospel: “I give (my sheep) eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.” (John 10:30) The Revelation version is just a little more dramatic and uses more images. 

I quite like the Book of Revelation because it is so full of images: beautiful images, such as the ones we heard this morning, but also terrifying ones, and some that are just plain weird. It is not always suitable for Sunday school – so children, today we are going to make the beast with seven heads and ten horns out of papier-mâché. That is probably a challenge even for our Sunday school teachers, and they are very good. John’s visions speak to both our fears and our hopes. “The worst of all nightmares ends not in terror but in a glorious new world, radiant with the light of God’s presence, abounding in joy and delight.”[2]

We must not get hung up on the exact descriptions of the future. What is important is the message behind the pictures: God triumphs, and with God justice, mercy and love prevail. Inspired by this vision, Martin Luther King famously said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice,”[3] in fact part of his memorial in Washington DC is an arced wall with all his famous quotes on it. He took this vision as a call to work on making this transformation come about, to follow if you will the trajectory that God has already set. 

No initiative or action of ours can establish God’s kingdom; God has already done that. However, as Christians are called to live today in ways that already correspond to the shape of God’s promise, to model our lives according to the values of God’s kingdom, to act sure in the knowledge that justice, mercy and love will prevail, and in doing so to fashion “living parables of God’s new creation even in the midst, and under the conditions of the old.”[4]

Amen

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[1] Trevor Hart, The myth of progress, (Church Times, 18.3.2016)

[2] Elaine Pagels, Revelations: Visions, Prophecy and Politics in the Book of Revelation (Viking Penguin, 2012), 175

[3] Speech of August 1967 to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference

[4] Trevor Hart, The myth of progress, (Church Times, 18.3.2016)

Paul v Peter

A Sermon preached on April 10th 27^th, Easter III, at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden

Acts 9:1-6, Revelation 5:11-14, John 21:1-19

Just recently, Warner Brothers released their latest superhero movie blockbuster: “Batman versus Superman: Dawn of Justice.” Without giving away the ending – so no spoiler alert - the plot is that Superman has become a controversial figure and Batman, over in Gotham City, views him as a potential threat to humanity. At the same time, Superman, in the fair city of Metropolis, who knew those two cities were so close together, also sees Batman as a threat, and seeks to stop him. In fact it is the evil villain Lex Luthor who has been sending messages to our two superheroes to heighten their animosity towards one another and to force them to fight to the death ….. that’s all you’re getting from me! 

But when I looked at today's readings I couldn't help thinking for a moment that the lectionary compilers have given us a superhero blockbuster of their own, let’s call it “Paul versus Peter: Dawn of Discipleship.” I find it a little ironic that the church often puts saints Paul and Peter together. In January the feast days of the Confession of Saint Peter on January 18^th and of the Conversion of St Paul on January 25^th bookend the week of prayer for Christian unity. The two of them share their personal feast day on June 29^th. 

Yet in my reading of scripture, I reckon they probably sometimes hated each other’s guts, in a very Christian way of course. Which is not surprising when you consider their differences. They came from very different backgrounds. Paul came from the provincial capital of Tarsus in what is now Turkey. He was a Jew of the diaspora, Hellenized on the one hand but had probably received a proper rabbinical education, and he was a convinced member of the Pharisee sect. Peter on the other hand was a fisherman from rural Galilee, a good Jew, but also one of Jesus's very first disciples. Paul was arrogant and proud: “I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors.” (Galatians 1:14). Peter was humble, often a little bumbling, prone to blurting out whatever was on his mind, however inappropriate. 

Just look at today's gospel reading. In last week's Gospel, we heard how all the disciples, gathered in the Upper Room had been breathed on by Jesus and sent into the world as his agents of forgiveness. Yet some undefined time late we encounter them back home on Galilee on the shores of the lake they knew so well, and all that Peter can think of is to go fishing. I think he was a little overwhelmed by Jesus’ commission and was trying to return to normality and get on with life. He was always more a doer, than a theologian.

One thing we do know about Paul and Peter is that they fought and argued. Paul recounts one fight they had in his letter to Galatians (2: 11, 14): “But when (Peter) came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood self-condemned; … . But when I saw that they were not acting consistently with the truth of the gospel, I said to (Peter) before them all, ‘If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?’”

And yet they also had lot in common. They followed Jesus at great personal cost – to their deaths. They were both key figures in the early church and responsible for spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ into the entire known world. Both of them betrayed Jesus. Paul had betrayed Jesus by persecuting his disciples: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" (Acts 9:4) Jesus asks him, to pursue his followers is to pursue Jesus. Peter of course had betrayed Jesus by running away and by denying him three times on that fateful night when Jesus was arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane. Last and not least, both Paul and Peter needed, as we heard today, a direct, personal encounter with the Lord to wake them up, to turn them round, and to forgive them. 

Jesus’ appearances are as individual and different as Paul and Peter are. Paul’s encounter is a dramatic one: a light from heaven flashes around him, he is thrown to the ground, and blinded. He is physically stopped in his tracks. As Paul is without sight for three days, he is forced to look at Jesus not with his eyes, but with his heart. As a result, once he has regained his sight, “immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God.’” (Acts 9:20) 

In Peter's case, the encounter looks more gentle, but I suspect is no less painful. After all, his conversation with Jesus on the shores of the lake must remind him of his own betrayal. That too took place next to a charcoal fire: “Now the slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire because it was cold, and they were standing round it and warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself,” (John 18:18) before he denied Jesus. Three times Jesus asks: Simon son of John do you love me?” just as Peter had denied Christ three times. Through this act, Peter is healed and forgiven. A key sign of that forgiveness, though not a condition for it, is the renewed commission to Peter to love, to care for, and to feed Jesus’ sheep. 

What can we learn from their example? Well for one thing that conflict is not just a bad thing. Paul and Peter needed to argue about the right way forward for the “followers of the Way, for those who became known as Christians. Both their missions were strengthened by their creative conflict over the right approach and goals. Paul helped Peter to see that the sheep that Jesus had given him to look after were not just the lost sheep of Israel, but that everyone needed – and needs – the right relationship with God that Jesus offers. Peter helped Paul by ensuring that Paul and his new converts remained connected to the founding disciples and with the Church in Jerusalem, as symbolized by the collection for Jerusalem that Paul insisted upon in all the churches he founded. In the end both of them ministered to Jew and Gentile alike, to anyone who was willing to give their life to Christ, and if the later stories are true, both of them lost their lives in Rome.

Let us keep that in mind: Conflict can lead to positive change. It is when conflict and disagreement are not dealt with openly and honestly, when we try and avoid them at all costs, that the underlying issues can escalate to the point of no return and the worst-case scenario that conflict-averse people fear, comes to be. In fact, I think one mission of the Church is to model how to deal with conflict, how to disagree with one another in love, and how to heal and reconcile once a decision on the way forward is taken. After 2,000 years of church conflict we should be good at it by now! And sometimes we are. Just last month I attended a meeting of the German Council of Churches (ACK). At that meeting, we agreed on a joint “Word on the Reformation.” It was a very moving and emotional experience  to see how churches that had been on either side of the often bloody conflicts of the 16^th century reformation, together with Orthodox churches who had split from the west 800 years earlier, and even those churches that grew out of the radical reformers that both the Catholics and Protestants persecuted and oppressed, to see how this diverse group of Christians all agreed on a joint statement on what was good, and what was bad, and what we can learn for today from the Reformation. I just hope we don’t always have to wait 500 years for something like this to happen.  

An agreement was possible because we recognized that what we have in common is even greater than what divides us. We have our humanity in common, we have our creator in common, we have our need to forgive and be forgiven in common, and as Christians, we have the means of forgiveness in Jesus Christ in common. Paul and Peter’s struggles were not about themselves and their personal preferences or position, but about how best to serve the Lord and his sheep. What comes first is our love for Jesus Christ. Today’s readings gave us a glimpse of how Paul and Peter were transformed by their encounters with that love. I can’t give you a blinding light, nor do I have grilled fish and bread on offer. What I can offer today and every week is the encounter with Jesus in the Word, in prayer, and in the Eucharist, in the bread and wine made holy, in his body and blood. What I can offer is the opportunity to be transformed by that encounter, to be filled with God’s love. What I can offer every single day is Jesus’ commission to follow him, to feed and tend his sheep, and to be a sign of his love in a divided world.

Amen.