Brief synopsis of the readings: We begin with the book of Daniel. It foretells of the time of the great prince Michael. Though a time of distress the people who are written in the book will escape; those who have died will rise up and “those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever.” We find our Gospel with Mark where Jesus speaks of those after the tribulation seeing the Son of Man coming with great power and glory. In the same way the readers can see the soft branches of the fig tree and know the figs are coming, and all will know that salvation is near.
We can tell that the end of the liturgical year approaches. Our calendar year ends on December 31st and the new year begins the next day. But the church year ends toward the end of November; a little over four weeks before Christmas we begin the season of Advent and the start of the new year.
I’m explaining this because the readings this week and next come from what’s called “apocalyptic literature” that’s generally thought to talk about events at the end of the world. I believe it’s the part of Scripture that is most often misused and unfortunately has become the most profitable for those who wish to benefit from the beliefs and fears of others. I know that’s harsh but please bear with me.
Apocalyptic literature comes from a variety of sources from both the Old and New Testament and sources outside of the Bible. These writings are virtually always written during times of great suffering, times where some doubt that there is anything to look forward to. It’s written to give hope to the hopeless.
But at certain times and places contemporary authors have misused this, leveraging good peoples’ fear of the future to get attention and sell books. It has increased dramatically since the 1960s. These books seek to convince readers that the ordinary things we see are really time bombs that will soon lead to all sorts of destruction unless we remain ultra vigilant. They mine news reports, play with dates and numbers, and come up with conspiracies. And it’s not harmless. Good people have been convinced to sell what they have and give their wealth away with the promise that they are investing in their salvation.
When we read these passages from Daniel and Mark (and the book of Revelation) we need to understand that they were written in times when nobody had to look for “bad times ahead.” They were already living them. Daniel was written when the Jews were persecuted by the Greeks who wanted them to abandon their faith and worship pagan gods. Jesus lived during a time of the Roman Empire when innocent acts were seen as seeking the overthrow of the government and were severely punished.
And they are written to give people hope. They are written to remind people that no matter what they see, or experience, or hear, God is still God and still loves us. They are also not written give us “clues” as to who is written in the book and who isn’t. Too often these same authors use these readings to divide us along issues and tell us where we need to place our loyalty. When they do this they misread Scripture and they misread the signs of the times.
God, alas, never promised us a world free of suffering, even after Jesus rose from the dead. Two thousand years later we still live in a world that hasn’t learned how to justly divide resources (like food and heat) and a world power is still far too attractive. There’s an old joke that a group of British soldiers during World War I were praying for victory when one of them asked if the German soldiers were praying the same thing. The first one replied: “So who cares? Everyone knows God doesn’t speak German.”
During times of suffering, times when many begin to doubt the future and some fear losing faith, we are all called to bring justice. Talk to people who find their vocation in bringing justice to the unjust and they will virtually never talk about the rich and the powerful. Jesus almost never came to the defense of the scribes and pharisees, simply because they didn’t need defending. It’s the poor and marginalized who need defending.
Today, as much as any time in our history, those that are pushed aside or left behind are told that their suffering is their own fault. Refugees should have stayed where they were, ignoring what drove them out. Those suffering from chemical abuse often find that they are told they should have known better. And even worse they are sometimes told that they bring that darkness to others through their lives.
We are coming the end of the liturgical year but we are not coming to the end of God’s love. Part of bringing justice often means bringing light to the darkness, to show that there is a way to life even when it looks elusive. But we also look around us and see hope. Starting in the 1960s we’ve talked about seeing the “signs of the times,” that is, paying attention what is around us. We may learn about horrific things through mass and social media but that’s because we have more access to news. We tend to discount random acts of kindness even when they’re noteworthy particularly when they are pushed aside by the latest mass shooting. Perhaps these readings call us to look anew at what we see.
And finally, nothing in these readings calls us to predict when it will happen. Today’s Gospel couldn’t be clearer: “But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” If I’m reading that right, even Jesus didn’t know. It’s counter to what we read and hear but we may be going on for a long, long time. Everyone who has predicted that the end of the world is near has been wrong and I hold that everyone who keeps doing that will also be wrong.
We have hope. That hope doesn’t run out of gas, it doesn’t become overpowered by current and future events, and nobody has the magic formula. And that’s good news. Happy rest of the liturgical year.