Sermon: Populus Zion (Advent 2) - 2018

9 December 2018

Text: Luke 21:25-36 (Mal 4:1-6, Rom 15:4-13)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

The great writer C.S. Lewis, who famously converted from Atheism to Christianity, wrote, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy.  I always knew a bottle of Port would do that.  If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”  

So here we are in the time of year of Santa and toy trains and trees and gift exchanges, of caroling and parties and beautiful lights – and I am duty bound to preach to you the words of Jesus that begin: “There will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth distress of nations in perplexity.”  Fear.  Foreboding.  The powers of the heavens being shaken.

I do hear a lot of people argue that it doesn’t matter what religion you follow, as long as it brings you comfort.

But, dear friends, we aren’t Christians because it’s comfortable.  We are Christians because it’s true.  Our Lord Jesus Christ was accurately foretold by the prophets of old: by Moses, by King David, by Isaiah, Ezekiel, Jeremiah, and by the prophet Malachi, who prophesied similar words as our Lord Jesus, about a coming time, “burning like an oven” in which the wicked will be judged.  

Our Lord Jesus Christ was testified to by the apostles, all of whom but one died for the faith rather than renounce their Lord, His miracles, His life, His death, His resurrection, and His blood shed for the forgiveness of sins.  Even the enemies of Christianity wrote of the monumental events of that first Good Friday and that first Easter Sunday, being perplexed by the empty tomb and the tenacity of those first Christians.  

We are Christians because it is factually and historically true.  And the Christmas story is not a story: it is a historic fact that the virgin Mary, as foretold by Scripture, miraculously became pregnant with the Son of God, who broke into our world to destroy death.  We celebrate that unique birth every year.

It is also a fact that death is part of the unpleasant reality of our world.  And, the decay of our culture and the uncertainty around the planet is part of what our Lord is warning us about.  He isn’t telling us this stuff about the signs in the sky and the fear of mankind as part of a horror story or as a form of thrilling entertainment.

He is telling us this because it is true.  He is telling us this because we need to know it.  He is telling us this so that we will be informed.

We don’t know when He will return, but we know that He will.  And just as we know that “summer is already near” by the way trees sprout leaves and the way flowers come out, we can look at the signs in the heavens and on the earth and we can “know that the kingdom of God is near.”

For the point of these signs is not to frighten us, but to steel our resolve.  Like the five wise virgins in the last Gospel of the church year, we need to be ready; we need to be wise; we need to be vigilant – and not just go with the flow of the world.  

For at our baptisms, we were asked if we renounced the devil and his works and his ways.  That means that we renounce the wickedness of the world.  That means that we Christians are different.  We are countercultural.  We are not seeking after our own pleasure above all.  We are to serve the Lord and our neighbor.  And if we aren’t, well, now is a good time to correct that.  Our season of Advent is a time of repentance.

Look around, dear friends.  Don’t you see the leaves on the trees?  I don’t mean that literally, but don’t you see the signs of the times?  There is a worldwide movement to crush the Christian Church, to redefine marriage, to criminalize repeating the words of Scripture.  There is a renewed hatred of life.  There is a resurgence of Islam.  Even Socialism is making inroads in our very own country.  Globalization and technology have brought these images to our phones and our computers.  We see the conflict and the tyranny that is targeting the Church. 

And so Jesus tells us to have courage.  This is no time for handwringing, but rather to pray with King David, “Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle.”  The Lord trains our fingers to come together in prayer, to flip through the pages of Scripture, to point others to the cross, to type the word of God into cyberspace.  

And our Lord tells us to “straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

And this, dear friends, is the comfort that Christ offers, the call for the preacher to “Comfort, comfort My people” as the Lord spoke of the coming of Jesus to Isaiah.  But it only comforts us because it is true.  Our Lord brings us comfort because He has warned us and He has won the battle for us.  Christianity will be comfortable in eternity, but as Dr. Lewis pointed out, in this life, if you want nothing more than physical comfort, a bottle of wine might do a better job.  But if you want to know the truth, the discomfort of our Lord’s words is worth it.  

For no matter how much our governments, our schools, our entertainment industry, our sports figures, our celebrities, our universities, our neighbors, and even in some cases, our churches – all conspire to silence God’s Word, listen to what our Lord, the Word made flesh, promises us: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away.”

People may not like this side of Jesus (who more closely resembles the angry Jesus cracking the whip against the moneychangers than He does the happy Jesus of the little statues of playing soccer with children), but Jesus has not come into our world make us wallflowers, but rather to make us warriors.  We are the church militant, not the church comfortable.

But once again, dear friends, after the warfare comes the reward: the armistice, the triumph, the peace, the spoils of victory.  And for us Christians, that means victory over sin, death, and the devil.  It means the triumph of the cross, the “It is finished!” the return of the Lord in power and might to destroy the devil and to restore our bodies and minds to perfection.  It means eternal life.

And so we wait for His return, but not passively.  We wait vigilantly, expectantly, and militantly.  We take to heart our Lord’s warning not to be caught unawares, “weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life, and that day come upon you suddenly like a trap.”  Our Lord is warning us, once again, not out of morbid entertainment, but as preparation and encouragement, to ready us for battle.  

Ultimately, the comfort that people seek by running from Christianity (and toward things like bottles and sexuality and drugs and consumerism), the true and abiding comfort, will come to us Christians when our Lord returns, when Satan is cast into the Lake of Fire, when our bodies are raised from the dead, and when the heavens and the earth are made anew.  We will then have our comfort that will never end. 

This is why our Lord tells us in the meantime to “straighten up and raise [our] heads.”  St. Paul understands what it means to be militant in a war that was already won by our Lord at the cross.  This is Christian hope: having the knowledge of victory even when we do not know the date nor the hour.

This is why St. Paul reminds us: “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope,” and the Apostle blesses us: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”  Amen.

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.