‘But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the
angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days
of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in
those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying
and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they
knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too
will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field;
one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding
meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake
therefore, for you do not know on what day
your Lord is coming...'
(Matthew 24: 36-42)
I
really have an issue with the First Sunday in Advent in Year A. This
apocalyptic jazz always reminds me of the early 1970's when my big
sister was into the “Jesus Freak” movement (And, yeah, that's
really what they
called young Christians then—Jesus Freaks.
Personally, I like the sound of that because it has a certain
counter-cultural ring to it. But I digress.) and occasionally dragged
me with her to one of the churches she frequented.
Every
time I read the above passage I'm reminded of a cramped store-front
church, filled with long-haired groovy people who were waiting for
The Rapture.
If
you're not familiar, The Rapture was a doctrine that was pretty
popular back then and, unfortunately, has not yet seemed to vanish
off of the American religious scene entirely to this day. It is a
belief taken from a mish-mash of biblical sources—Revelation,
Daniel, some of Paul's writings, and the above quote from Matthew's
gospel—which asserts that the end of the world is coming, but,
before the final catastrophic unpleasantness is unleashed upon
humankind, God will suddenly snatch up all believers bodily into the
clouds and protect them from the day of tribulation.
As I
suggest, this belief is based on some pretty sketchy biblical
scholarship. Thus, (and I just love to use the word “thus”), I'd
like to take this opportunity to celebrate a wonderful saint who is
doing her best to put the misguided straight on this issue, The
Reverend Doctor Barbara Rossing.
Dr.
Rossing is a professor of New Testament Studies at the Lutheran
School of Theology in Chicago, and she seems to be pretty darn smart
if you ask me. She holds a Master's of Divinity from Yale and a
Doctor of Theology from Harvard. In 2005 she published a wonderful
book called The Rapture Exposed: The Message of Hope in the
Book of Revelation. In this
volume she explains how this bizarre doctrine originated and points
out two fundamentally dangerous ramifications of this belief:
First,
those who espouse the Rapture doctrine are looking expectantly for
the end of the world. Personally, I'd like old Mother Earth to stick
around a little bit longer. However, for those who think Jesus is
coming back to claim His flock any day now, the wellness of our
planet is not of much concern. In a world beset with accelerated
climate change, such disregard for environmental issues is
dangerously negligent.
Secondly,
the Rapture proponents believe that the Day of the Lord will come
once the Jewish people re-take the Holy Land. This belief, Dr.
Rossing maintains, has consequences in U.S. foreign policy. Rapture
believers promote a blind support of Israel at the expense of the
rights of Palestinians. Such dogged loyalty can only lead to more
enmity between the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim worlds.
Dr.
Rossing has done her best through her scholarship, teaching, writing,
and lecturing to put American Christians on the path of a sound
understanding of the Bible—particularly that most cryptic of
documents, The Book of Revelation. She is rescuing this book from those who see it a as vision of horror and reclaiming it as a document of hope.
As
Lutherans, we understand that the Bible—however much we love it—is
not God. It's best described as the manager which holds the Christ.
We interpret the parts of these ancient writings which we don't
understand in light of the parts which we do. All of Christian
scripture points to this chief belief which takes precedence over all
others: Jesus Christ entered into our broken world to abide with us
and save us from our sins. We will never go anywhere in our earthly
journey—be it in sickness, loneliness, shame, fear, temptation,
sorrow, or pain—where Jesus has not already been. He died to save
us and lives that we might live.
When
John of Patmos wrote that confounding and confusing vision all those
centuries ago, he made one thing glaringly clear: Our God reigns. And God reigns in love and promise. For
all the mystifying symbolism in this book—some of which we'll
probably never
understand—John's message of Christ's triumph over powers of sin
and death remains unambiguous. God's will is to reshape us into a holy people. No Doomsday theology is necessary.
Nor is it helpful. I would rather live in the here and now and know
that my Lord holds the promise of eternity.
I
really hope I get the chance to meet Dr. Rossing some day. I know she
often lectures at other seminaries and sometimes at synod assemblies
so there's a chance she'll pass through Philadelphia some time. It's
rumored that she has a wicked sense of humor, and I know I'd enjoy
that.
In
the meantime, there's always YouTube. If you're interested in the
Book of Revelation, click on Barbara's name and catch one of her
talks.
I
hope you're having a most blessed Season of Advent. Slow down. Light
the candles. Know that Emanuel is with you.
*
* *
Some time before the
cataclysmic end of the world, I'd really like to share Holy Communion
with our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters. I know it's a long
shot, but don't long shots pay off the best? Help me strike blow for
Christian unity, won't you?Sign my letter to the Pope asking for full
communion to mark the 500th anniversary of the
Reformation. What have you got to lose? C'mon! You know you want to.
Just click here.
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