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Sunday, November 7, 2004
Sermon: “When We Choose God”
Scripture Lesson: 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Reverend Larry Gerber
Apocalyptic scenarios run the gamut from super-viruses to killer asteroids. But in the midst of all this fretting about the future, Paul calls us to get on with living the life of faith.
Lord knows, there are plenty of reasons to worry if you’re so inclined. “Dirty” bombs.
Global warming.
The emergence of a new disease.
Killer asteroids colliding with earth.
A super-virus unleashed deliberately or by human error.
Weapons of Mass Destruction
Galaxy-gobbling black holes.
Shifting magnetic poles.
Mega-earthquakes.
Ozone depletion.
Population outgrowing food sources
And more ....
We could go on, but why bother? If one of these menaces doesn’t get you, another one will. We’re DOOMED! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? DOOMED!!
Or, maybe not.
In any case, the “we-are-all-done-for” mindset existed in the first century as well. The apostles and other disciples had taught so persuasively about the return of Jesus that a rumor spread that Jesus had already returned. In Thessalonica, that report had Christians freaking out. No wonder Paul writes to this church urging them “not to be quickly shaken in mind or alarmed” (2.2).
The author of the letter does not explain exactly why the rumor of Christ’s return so troubled the Thessalonian Christians, but it doesn’t take much to figure that out. In his first letter to this church, Paul said that at Christ’s return, the faithful would be “caught up in the clouds ... [to] be with the Lord forever” (4:17). So if indeed Christ had already returned and none of the Thessalonians had been suddenly airlifted, that meant that they were among those — gulp! — left behind. No wonder they were alarmed! They were DOOMED! Or so they thought.
But the Second Coming had not happened, and so Paul writes to tell the Thessalonians: Stand Firm/Hold Fast. Get a grip on life, naming events that must happen before the Lord returns. The idea is, “If you haven’t seen those things, then Christ has not come back.”
Thus, the Thessalonians should stop fretting about what was somewhere off in the future and get on with living the life of faith; they should “stand firm and hold fast to the traditions” they were taught.
Paul here debunks the doomsday theories that abounded in his day, just as critics today deflate the air in the balloons of contemporary gloom-and-doomers.
Gregg Easterbrook, a senior editor at The New Republic, looked into a number of current doomsday claims and found that they’re not too sound.
Ronald Bailey points out that globally, women are having fewer babies, indicating that the world population will peak in about 50 years at around 8 billion, a number the planet can handle without setting off an apocalyptic crisis. Further, he says, “affluence and technology, far from harming nature, actually promote its flourishing.” Overall, in developed countries, the air becomes cleaner and the water clearer. And even current agricultural technology, if put into play around the world — something that’s increasingly possible as affluence grows — could “easily feed 10 billion people, with better diets.”
Nothing we face is likely to be the end of everybody. We personally confront more risk from bad diet than we do from any of the dark global possibilities out there.
Still, events larger than our usual experience of life can cause at least four sorts of nonproductive reactions:
Some people prepare for departure. They simply check out. If they don’t have an exit strategy, they’ll get one. They’re outta here. History tells of several groups, over the years, have decided that difficult times were signs the end was near. They got rid of their possessions, quit their jobs and settled down to wait for the Lord’s appearing, but they were wrong.
Today, we’re likely to check out in other ways. We withdraw from community. We refuse to get involved. We’d like to move away from the noise and chaos to a place of quiet and rest. We’re looking for ways to simplify our lifestyle, not because to do so might be better for the survival of the planet, but because it might be better for our own survival.
Others give out. The sheer volume of the bad news exhausts them. Most Americans who went to the polling booths this week, and even those who didn’t, no doubt breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing that for the first time in 18 to 24 months, they will have a respite, however brief, from the daily barrage of political campaigning and mudslinging. They’re tired and can scarcely deal with it any more. Moreover, many are ready to conclude that we must be living in the Last Days. The signs seem to abound.
The implications of this eschatological ennui are enormous. Many no longer believe that they make a difference. They think that no matter what they say or do, nothing will change. They can stand on a corner and shout at the top of their lungs, but people will continue to simply pass by.
Others are overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, and have come to believe that the social problems we face are inevitable, and will only be ultimately ameliorated by the return of Jesus and the inauguration of the Peaceable Kingdom at some future day. They are not interested in the transformation of this society when such a transformation is impossible, and when the ultimate transformation is just a portent away.
Some people freak out. They’re immobilized by fear. Go back about 135 years to the night of the great Chicago fire of 1871. On that same night, another wildfire raged in nearby Wisconsin, consuming the city of Peshtigo, several nearby villages and 1 million acres of forest. Nearly 1,200 people perished, and there might have been more but for the efforts of a priest, Peter Pernin.
As the voracious fire drove people ahead of it, many made for the Peshtigo River. When Father Pernin got there, however, he found most people still on the riverbank. They had looked at the immense conflagration and concluded that Judgment Day had arrived. So they stood there, thinking there was nothing to do but await their fate.
Father Pernin, not buying that notion, started shoving people into the water, which broke the spell and mobilized the terrified crowd, who — seeing the water as the water of salvation — leapt in and were saved.
It’s always good to remind ourselves at such times to embrace our baptismal vows, and that no matter what is happening, it isn’t over for the planet until God says it’s over.
Most of us, however, probably zone out. We don’t check out, give out or freak out. We don’t react at all. It’s just a part of life to us, and we forge ahead, or as President Bush urged us to do in the post-9/11 weeks, we go shopping.
Because — truth be told — these kinds of catastrophic possibilities don’t really concern us. What really chills us to the bone are other things: Cancer. Heart disease. The children and the friends they’re keeping. The marriage. Relationships. Job security. Retirement.
Think about it. It’s things like this — not dirty bombs or sarin gas — that really concern us.
So how does a person of faith respond when the Big C looms over their heads? Or the children seem to be in total rebellion, or the marriage has flown off the rails?
Paul’s advice to the Thessalonians is still good advice.
“Stand firm and hold fast.”
SF/HF.
Stand Firm/Hold Fast. Postmodern Christians, so accustomed to not standing firm or holding fast to anything, are here invited to do that very thing. Stand on something. Stand for something. Stand by someone.
So on what are we to stand?
One word. Teaching. The NIV translated paradoeis in 2:15 as “teachings.”
Paul defines these teachings as the concept that “God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth” (2:13). We are to stand, then, on the idea that we are chosen.
The writer also notes that “For this purpose he called you through our
proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord
Jesus Christ” (2:14). We are to stand, then, on the additional notion that
we are not only chosen, but called.
And to what are we to “hold fast”?
One word. Tradition. Actually, it is the same word, paradoeis, translated “tradition” by the KJV and NRSV and other versions. The word has a rabbinic pedigree that recalls the time-honored custom of rabbinic interpretations being handed on and handed down to the next generation.
Our faith is a body of truth on which we are called to stand firm, and to which we are invited to hold fast. SF/HF.
It’s a good formula for engaging the hopes and fears that both excite us and plague us these days. Remember, it’s not over until God says it’s over. And even then, for those who trust Christ, it’s — thankfully — not over.
SF/HF. When we do, we may hear this ringing benediction that will bless us as we soldier on:
Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father,
who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope,
comfort your hearts
and strengthen them in every good work and word. (2:16-17).
Amen.
Let us prepare to break bread together……….
````````````````````````````````````````````````Sources:
Bailey, Ronald. “What doom will look like this time around.” The Wall Street Journal, May 20, 2004, D10.
Easterbrook, Gregg. “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Wired, July 2003, 151-157.
Let me know what you think. The church Email is: SLUMC@att.net, Phone: 480.895.8766