Text:  Luke 21:25-36                                                                                                             W 1 Advent

Back to the Future

            In the name of our coming King, dear brothers and sisters in Christ:  Today, the first Sunday of Advent, we begin an entirely new church year cycle that will, before it’s over, incorporate all the major events and themes of God’s great plan of salvation.  And we’ll start where we always do, at the beginning, as we prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ Child at Christmas.

But as you listened to this morning’s Scripture readings, you probably noticed that none of them sounded especially “Christmassy”.  Oh, perhaps the reading from Jeremiah qualifies with its promise of a righteous Branch sprouting from David’s line; but that Gospel lesson … wow, pretty gloomy stuff, huh?  What with all the anguish, people fainting from terror, the world coming apart, and the dire warnings about escaping the coming judgment that will close upon us “like a trap”.  There’s sure no “Ho-ho-ho, merry Christmas” there.  It sounded a lot more like the end than the beginning.  And if you’ve been with us for the past couple weeks, you’ll recognize that these are exactly the same themes we’ve been hearing about as we wrapped up the last church year.  All this talk of judgment and doom is, in the famous words of Yogi Berra, “like déjà vu all over again”.

And, of course, there’s a reason for that.  The church year begins exactly where the last year left off:  looking forward to the coming of the Savior – that’s the great last step in God’s plan of salvation that we look forward to. It’s the one big promise that has yet to be fulfilled.  And while we wait for that day to come, we’re struggling to keep our hope and faith alive in a world that is opposed to us – that is doing everything in its power to discourage, confuse, frighten, and otherwise shake our faith in the Lord. And the going very often gets tough. To make it through, we recognize that we need the Lord to give us what we need to endure until the end comes.

And one of the ways we get it is to go back … back to that time before Christ’s first coming, to a time when God’s people were similarly discouraged, confused, frightened, and oppressed.  They knew of the long-promised Savior that was to spring from the line of David and rule on his throne forever; but considering the circumstances they were in, they couldn’t see how it could possibly happen.  They were a conquered people.  David’s line hadn’t had a king on the throne for five hundred years.  And for that whole time their nation was just a tiny player in world politics, more like low value card constantly being passed from one great empire’s hand to another’s – sort of the old maid of countries that nobody really wanted, but that somebody had to hold.  The idea that glory would come to their country again seemed an impossible dream. When they said, “Everything will be better when Messiah comes …”, they put up a good show and acted like they believed it; but deep in their hearts most of the meant it in petty much the same sense we do when we say, “And it will happen when hell freezes over”. Their hope was a flickering candle in a dark, cold, stormy night – just this far from being snuffed out entirely.

But it was precisely into that stormy night of Judah’s history that God sent his Son.  It seems that God’s promises are always being fulfilled just when things are the darkest and God’s people are most discouraged and uncertain.  And in a sense, that’s what our first candle on the Advent wreath represents:  a small but living hope in an otherwise totally dark world.  And in the weeks ahead, more and more of the light of God’s unfolding plan begins to shine, as we hear again of the promises being fulfilled; until at last, the Word of God is brought to its completion when we celebrate Christ’s first coming to earth.  It’s remembering how the Lord fulfilled that promise against all odds and appearances to the people back then that gives us all the more surety that the next coming of Christ will take place exactly as he has said no matter how things appear, no matter how long it takes, and no matter what turmoil and catastrophes happen on earth in the interim.

            And there’s actually quite a bit more to it than that. Maybe some of you recall seeing a motion picture called Back to the Future.  It came out not quite twenty years ago, and was successful enough that they did a couple of sequels (which, in my estimation, like most sequels, weren’t nearly as good as the first film).  Anyway, the film starred Michael J. Fox as a high school student who was accidentally transported back in time to when his parents were in high school. Okay, I’ll admit that that sounds pretty flaky, but it was actually a well-crafted story with some interesting twists.  For most of the plot, the star is trying to get back to his own time, hence the name, Back to the Future; but it happens that due to his interference with things in the past, the future to which he returns is a much nicer place for him than it was when he left.  By going back in time and making some adjustments, he gives himself a better life in the present and a much brighter future than he had before.

            That’s kind of what we’re doing in Advent.  Though we are not physically transported to the past, we do go there in a mental sort of way.  And while we are there, we share in the action and experiences of the people who awaited the Savior’s birth; we hear what they heard, and to a certain degree we feel what they felt.  And, of course, it’s actual history, so it’s not that we can influence the past when we go back, but that the past influences us.  We are changed by the experience.  God’s powerful Word shapes us – like it did the people back then, and the result of those changes is that we have a better present to live in now, and oh, a much, much brighter future in eternity.

            So, with all that in mind, during the season of Advent we are reminded to prepare for Christ’s coming by reading the signs of the times.  In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus gives us the Parable of the fig tree.  When the trees start to sprout leaves in the spring, you know that summer is on the way. You can count on it:  especially since it’s not the leaves that bring on the summer, but rather the warmer summer weather that brings on the leaves. In a similar sense, the chaos of this world we live in:  the wars, the famines, fires and floods, the steepening slide into immorality, the way people are increasingly seeking after answers for life’s perplexing questions in any but God’s Word … all these things are the indicators that the end is drawing nigh.  And the signs aren’t making the end happen; it’s the other way around. Earthquakes have after-shocks; but the coming end is making its ripples felt first.  It’s like the rumbling of thunder that precedes the storm.  When you hear it, you know it’s coming.  You can count on it.

Just as this time of year you can read the signs of the times.  Everywhere Christmas decorations are going up. Yesterday, in the mail, I got my first Christmas card of the season (no, not from anyone that was that far ahead of the schedule, it was from a business).  I went to Wal-Mart the other day and found it overstocked with so much merchandise there was hardly any space to maneuver around it all.  There were more people in the store than usual. And in the background was playing that same tape of Christmas music that seems to be standard issue for every department store in the country.  These signs tell us that Christmas is surely coming – but again, it’s not the signs make Christmas come:  they only warn us that it is coming, and remind us that we need to get ourselves ready.  And the ways various people prepare for celebrating Christ’s coming at Christmas provides us with some good illustrations of how people should (and should not) prepare for Christ’s final coming in glory.

There are, for example, those who put off everything until the last possible minute.  They want to have a good Christmas like everyone else, but they’re not willing to invest the time and energy it takes to make it happen.  They have trouble getting into the spirit of the season because they are too busy with other things and pursuing other pleasures. These are the December 24^th shoppers, who, when they finally get around to thinking about Christmas gifts for the people they love, arrive at the store to find nothing they are looking for, and promise themselves they’ll do their shopping after Christmas when the sales start – but then get put off by the after-Christmas crowds and never get it done at all.  Their Christmas experiences are unhappy and empty – but they always promise to do better next year.

These are like the people Jesus describes as being weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness.  Dissipation means to really live it up, to indulge in every sensual pleasure, and squander away all your time and resources in things that give a momentary thrill but are ultimately fruitless.  And that’s the way a lot of people live their lives, grabbing it while they can, and promising themselves that they’ll consider matters of a spiritual nature sometime later.  Well, sometime never comes; but the day of reckoning surely will, and then it will be too late – and after that there won’t be any next year to try to do better in. 

On the other hand, you’ve got those who try to do it all.  They have imagined what their perfect Christmas is to be, and they are bent on making it happen just that way – and woe to anything or anyone that stands in the way. They’ve got big plans and super-full calendars, what with shopping, decorating, cards to write and send; they’ve got programs, parties, and family gatherings to attend – or host, and a thousand other things over and above the routine chores of life. They’re overbooked.  What’s more, they know it – and stress and worry take their toll on their minds and bodies, so that they end up frittering away much of the little time they have.   Because they try to do everything, they do nothing well.  And in the end, they get less done than people who planned to do half of the things they did; and what they do, they enjoy a lot less.  When the holidays are over, they find themselves burned out, unrested, disappointed with the ways things went, and deep in debt.

These correspond to the ones Jesus describes as being weighed down with the anxieties of life.  They count themselves religious, claim to trust in Christ and are eagerly awaiting his return; but they are absolutely obsessed with current biblical prophecy and its many popular interpretations and misinterpretations. They watch the news each night convinced that every time a terrorist bomb goes off or somebody signs a peace treaty, that they can find a reference to the precise event somewhere in the book of Revelation.  They want to be able to determine exactly how many days are left.  Their faith, such as it is, is driven by fads.  They’re praying the prayer of Jabez, taking inventory of their spiritual gifts, and asking What Would Jesus Do?  And while they’re giving their purpose driven utmost for his highest, they’re living in fear that unless they keep it up they may be left behind.  Through it all, they are looking to everything but the Lord Jesus Christ whose blood frees them; and as a consequence, because they can find no real rest in him, they’re burning themselves out.  The danger, of course, is that through repeated disappointments they’ll burn their faith out completely before Christ returns for them.

And then there are those who properly prioritize. They look forward to Christmas with enthusiasm. For them, the signs of the season stir up happy thoughts.  Yes, it’s true that there is more to do; and they know they can count on bad weather, Christmas crowds, and the flu season all to complicate things.  But they pace themselves and don’t try to do everything. Instead, they concentrate on what’s important, and they focus on the spiritual message of the season:  God becoming a man to save us.  They know how to say “no” to unnecessary distractions. They don’t feel compelled to get sucked into the latest fads and culturally created expectations of what the “perfect Christmas” should be.  They enjoy revisiting a few simple, cherished family traditions, perhaps even creating a few new ones.  For them, Christmas, when it comes, is a far more enriching experience.

These are like the ones who are taking their Christian life in stride.  They haven’t hung their hopes on the world.  They look at the future from the perspective of seeing God’s gracious promises fulfilled in the past.  So the signs of the world’s impending destruction, awful as they are, are but reminders of the end, which is something they look forward to with great expectation.  The world’s death throes, though ugly and saddening, are for these people of faith the labor pains of a new heaven and earth where the curse of sin will be but a distant memory.  This is a good thing.  Even on a personal level, the signs of age and decay on their own bodies, though uncomfortable, remind them that they will soon inherit a body that cannot decay. These people understand that the present order is doomed to pass away, so they concentrate on the important, eternal things; and they heed Jesus’ advice that, “when you see these things happening, look up, lift up your heads, because your redemption draws nigh.”

Now, obviously, it’s in this last group that we want to find ourselves.  The question is:  how do we make sure we stay there?  The answer is that we need to let God change us and keep us there – and he does that, in part, by taking us back in time.  He takes us back to remember his coming in the past, when was he born into our dying world to bear our sin and die in our place.  He takes us back to show us his coming to his disciples after the resurrection to tell them that forgiveness could now be proclaimed in his name.  And he takes us back to experience his sending of the Holy Spirit upon his church to create and build the faith of all who would with open hearts hear his promise of salvation.

But we don’t stay focused only on his comings in the past.  We recognize that he comes to us now.  He comes in his Words that you are hearing.  We see him come into the hearts of those who by water and the Spirit are baptized in his name.  In Holy Communion we see him come to us in the body and blood he sacrificed for us to take away our sin.  By these means he comes to us to take up residence in our hearts, so that we can see him in one another as we live lives that reflect his life in us.

And so it is by remembering and experiencing the Lord Jesus’ coming in the past and in the present that we prepare ourselves for his final coming. That’s what will give us the proper attitude to learn to let go of the things that are passing away, to not be discouraged when we see the world falling apart, and instead to focus on the things that will endure.

It’s my prayer, as this Advent season begins, that God would give to every one of us such a proper and godly perspective that will assist us in preparing our hearts for both our celebration of Christ’s humble coming at Christmas, and also for his final coming in glory to redeem his faithful people, that both days will be for us filled with wonder and joy.  May he grant it to us for Jesus’ sake.  Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!