Breaking into that passive queue

Do you recall that twee picture of you at School? You were all put in order and, one at a time, you stood in front of a board with a wonderful image, on the photograph was taken. You can change the background filters on Zoom as well in a similar manner. Whether you want to be looking at the Golden Gate Bridge, in Space, watching the Aurora Borealis, or on a sunny Caribbean beach, all this is possible. Ah, one gotcha: you aren’t there, are you? You are seemingly wanting to be there but we don’t feel that warmth of the sunshine, or the enormity of the cosmos.

When we read the Bible, we need to understand the background to fully understand the context. We can’t just presume that if we read a passage, we can turn it into the 21st C and say “Hey, wow! I know what they are referring to”.

Advent beckoning

In the Advent reading one of them on Advent Sunday is Mark 13: 24-37. We may be attending because: (a) we always do; (b) it is Advent Sunday and we are seeking a bit of Hope; or we got lost and the place was warm. What we might struggle to do is to see where this passage sits with the Gospel according to Mark and Advent Sunday.

As Advent beckons us closer to God, may we, each week, seek to see through the tinsel, the wrapping paper and those infamous Brussel Sprouts, to see, find and experience the kin_dom now.

Context?

The prior section before this passage is about Jesus speaking about his future in and around 33AD; but the Gospel was written in and around 70AD. The context when the Gospel was written was of the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, and the Imperial pressure applied to the Jews and Gentiles by the Romans, ensuring that Pax Romana remains stable. Last Sunday, we may recall it was deemed to be Christ the King Sunday, and I suggested that the Kingship we might imagine today is not the way that Jesus might perceive himself. I recalled a story of an American pastor who met with a ‘lady of the night’ and offered such love and kinship to someone who had no power – it is worth a read.

Jesus, mentions in Mark 13:2, of the demolished buildings – to which the author links to the Temple perhaps; in Mark 13:5-8, speaks of ongoing wars, resonating with the Roman units from Syria ensuring that peace will exist, come what may; and that families will turn on themselves, as they seek a way out of the mess.

From Joel Chapter 2:10, the author recalls that the sun will be darkened, and that the Son of Man will come with great power. Luke and Matthew mention earthquakes, something not unusual in that region – perhaps one per century. Possibly there was one in Qumran in and around 33AD.

So is this the end?

Surely if the end was really nigh, Jesus would have told us so. To the British, if we are told to be in line for a certain time, we will enthusiastically join the queue and wait. Perhaps less patiently than our predecessors, but wait we will. Just recall the long queue to mount the Queen in state at Westminster. We wait passively.

That’s not what this passage is asking. “Heaven and earth will disappear but my words will never disappear“. We are being asked to actively set about seeing, finding and experiencing the kin_dom now. As we try to understand the context then, as the listeners and, if educated, readers of the text might have perceived, we seek to understand how it might have felt with the Roman authorities breathing down our necks, imposing their truth on our lives. Mark’s Gospel brings hope.

In this passage alone, we read three times : to be awake, to be alert to what is going on around us. Not to be drawn into conspiracy theories, nor live in a state of blissful ignorance.

• Turning off the media so we are not confronted with the ‘bad news’ of today can be positive for our well-being but surely we do need to understand what is going on around us?
• Actively noticing expressions of oppression, racism and bigotry.
• To seek a heightened state of social, political and cultural awareness.
• All of the while, staying faithful to God’s message of love. 

And so?

The passage in Mark’s Gospel is possibly suggesting that there was an imminent breakdown of the status quo, where God’s love would intervene, but also that it can weave itself into our world, now – if we permit it. Don’t imagine that scene of that Caribbean beach and resting in a hammock as the waves gently lap the shore, but where the Kin_dom of God can be understood where we are – despite the rain of Glasgow 😉 – in all of the political turmoil, in all of the circumstances we might find ourselves in currently?

As Advent beckons us closer to God, may we, each week, seek to see through the tinsel, the wrapping paper and those infamous Brussel Sprouts, to see, find and experience the kin_dom now.