29 November 2023 Advent 1

Our Advent season is certainly opening ‘with a bang’, with this apocalyptic text from Mark, as well as the message from Paul. But although it sounds ‘apocolyptic’, there is no mention of the end of the world; no indication of ‘final judgement’; there is no call to flee from all that is part and parcel of our day-to-day lives; there is only the promise that ‘he (the Son of Man) is near’.   So, this apocalyptic view is in the sense of pulling back the curtain of false hopes and realities so that we might see God’s commitment to enter into and redeem our lives and our world just as they are.

Now apocalyptic traditions around the time the gospels were being written were very prevalent.  Paul, and many others expected the return of Jesus to be ‘immanent’.  They were waiting for his return ‘very soon’.  Whereas, because of the ‘longer-than-expected’ delay they had already experienced, and the death of many of the original eye-witnesses, others had begun to see Jesus’ return as an ’end of human history’ event.  So we have both ‘immanent’ and ‘future’ eschatology playing into the mix and we can see both these eschatologies playing a part in this passage of gospel.

In fact Mark appears to recognise that neither tradition had the final word on Jesus’ return, and we can see that when he says “But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father”.  No one knows, neither Paul, nor Mark, nor us; we continue to wait, continue to watch, continue to prepare for Christ’s return.

But this passage shows us more than just that both sides have something to contribute; Mark appears to be pointing to another possibility – that the primary advent of Jesus has already happened and that all our waiting and watching should be shaped by that.  In the mini-parable at the end of this passage, which comes just before the Passion, we see an interesting foreshadowing of the Passion.  Jesus warns that the servants do not know whether the master will return at evening, at midnight, at cock-crow, or at dawn.   Now when we look at how Mark divides the scenes leading up to the crucifixion we see: the Last Supper begins with ‘when it was evening he came with the twelve’; in the Garden of Gethsemane Mark tells us the disciples were asleep because ‘it was the middle of the night’; at the close of Jesus’ trial Peter denies Jesus for the third time ‘as the cock crowed for the second time’; and Jesus is delivered to Pilate for trial ‘as soon as it was morning’.  And we also notice that much, if not all of what comes before in this passage – the darkening of the sun, moon without light, the stars falling and the powers being shaken – also correspond with key elements of the passion narrative.  So we see that Mark is not pointing to a future apocalypse but a present one, as Christ’s death and resurrection change everything.  As Jesus suffers all that the world can throw at him, and is raised to new life, then nothing will ever be the same again, including our present lives and situations.

So Mark is not ‘walking a fine line between the two traditions’ but inviting us to imagine that whenever Jesus may come – be it immanent or future – all our anticipation and preparation of Jesus’ second advent should be shaped by his first advent in the form of a vulnerable infant and as a man hanging on a tree.  We are invited to look for Jesus – in the here and now – in similar places of vulnerability, openness, and need.

So are we able to look for Jesus in the needs of those around us, can we be awake to God’s presence in response to our own needs.  Advent is not just a ‘bland’ season where we just ‘wait’ for the birth of our Saviour, while trying not to get caught up in the consumerism of the presents and trees and gifting and feasting.  This Advent, our preparing might be more about practicing to see where God is entering our lives in ways that align with God’s coming in the vulnerability of the manger and the cross.  God comes to us ‘as we are’.  Not as the people we are ‘trying to be’ or ‘would prefer to be’ or think we ‘should be’, but the people we are.  The families, the congregations, the communities we are.

Does that mean we don’t need to change or improve?  No, of course there will always be room for improvement, but we also need to remember that the person we are, however imperfect, is still loved by and beloved of God.  And we can also see those around us, be they similar or different, as gifts of God who are meant to be loved and treasured just as God loves and treasures them.  So as we walk this Advent journey, we remind ourselves that God loves us as we are, accepts us as we are, redeems us as we are.  Yes, there is room for improvement, but at the same time, we are enough, and deserve love and respect now, as do all those around us.

As we commence this new church year by looking ahead to the promise of Jesus’ ‘second’ coming, Mark helps us recognise that Jesus comes into our lives in many and varied ways, -“about that day and hour no one knows”- each of which correspond to the first coming in the vulnerability of the manger and the cross, an advent that affirms and accepts the people and communities we are as we are beckoned forward in faith to become the people God has called us to be.