In 2nd Thess 1.7 Paul assured the congregation that God would grant the afflicted rest when Jesus is revealed with his angels. The Greek word for revealed is apocalypse. Many consider 2nd Thessalonians to be a classic example of apocalyptic literature. And whenever the topic of apocalypse comes up Patty recounts a story from her childhood at Blue Sky Mennonite Church not far outside of Fairview, AB. In her absence I take spousal prerogative to share a tale worth hearing. Jim Mullet (of Drake, SK no less) was the guest speaker one Sunday morning. I don’t know Jim’s background but he was surely a pre-millennialist or a postmillennialist, but certainly no a-millennialist. These terms are confusing— the type of confusion most of us have while trying to absorb the impact of a rapture and Christ’s 1000 year reign. All she knew is that Jim was getting more and more worked up as he thumped the pulpit and expounded that time was short. And then amid shrieks of terror time stopped, or ran out, or fell down. Paralleling the ferocity of Jim’s sermon the clock at the back of their sanctuary plummeted from its perch, crashed onto the centre aisle, and smashed into a hundred pieces. It was no doubt, the opening salvo, of the apocalypse. Jim has since been raptured, but the rapture still has not taken place.
The last few weeks we have been reading the letters of Paul. In these books Paul often referred to the imminent coming of our Lord Jesus (parousia) and the revealing of Christ (apocalypse). In our sermons neither Anita nor I have looked closely at Paul’s understanding of the end times and how this shapes his theology. What do we do with these passages that clearly refer to the end of an age? Clearly, Jesus has not come again, or has he? I actually think we live with apocalypse most every day; it is just we fail to see it on account of our preconceptions. This brash statement requires explanation.
Apocalypse is conversion: In his letter to the Galatians Paul retells his call story. This account is a wonderful complement to the three versions we find in Acts (9.1ff, 22..4ff, 26.12ff). In his own words Paul wrote of his conversion experience as an apocalypse (Gal 1.12). A new day dawned for Paul, Christ was revealed, an apocalypse took place. It had everything to do with the end on an age but nothing to do with the end of the world.
Is this description of apocalypse not true for many of our stories-- stories in which the risen Christ ignites a new beginning? Dorothy Day was baptized an Anglican and rejected Christianity in favour of causes that could make a difference in the world. She worked with radical papers and participated in protests. “A turning point in her life came in 1926 when she was living on Staten Island with a man she deeply loved. She became pregnant, an event that sparked a mysterious conversion. The experience of what she called ‘natural happiness’, combined with a sense of the aimlessness of her Bohemian existence, turned her heart to God.” She had her child baptized. She herself was re-baptized. She spent the next years raising her daughter while praying for some way to blend her renewed faith with her passion for social justice. Through her God founded the famous “Houses of Hospitality” which have served millions through the decades. (Robert Ellsberg, All Saints: Daily Reflections on Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses For Our Time, pp. 519-520). Apocalypse happens when God and the risen Christ crash into our world and we turn our hearts to God. Those baptized and dedicated as children who have walked away from Christianity are not immune to it. Those who have sat placidly for years in the same church pew are not immune to it. The aimless young living the Bohemian existence are not immune to it. Apocalypse happens! Let us allow Jesus into our hearts and let the new age begin!
Well, this is but one way in which Paul speaks of Christ being revealed. In the context of 2nd Thessalonians and 1st Peter (1.7, 1.13, 3.14), which also employs “apocalyptic” language, the intent is comfort for a suffering people. These communities were hurting with a number of their people imprisoned, exiled, martyred and otherwise persecuted. It is pastoral care to remind those who are suffering that Christ will be revealed. The suffering will end. Christ is with you and will guide you to a better life. Christian brothers and sisters are alongside you. It is import to say, “we give thanks for you”. This is what Paul and Peter did, and what we are called to do.
Persecuted Christians are one group who benefit from letters and prayers of solidarity. Two weeks ago Lorraine Harder read a note from partner churches in Asia who are having land confiscated. I was taken with the letter Lorraine read, and it reminded me a bit of Paul’s letters. Jeanette Hansen is a type of modern day Timothy who lives both among the Asian congregations in question and the people of Tiefengrund. The two communities exchange e-mails, a contemporary form of letter writing. Each community is encouraged when they hear news from their partner congregation. Letters, notes, e-mails—they are laden with spiritual power. They are tangible evidence that Christ is beside us in the midst of our trials and tribulations because the church is the body of Christ and it is beside us.
In like fashion the aging, infirmed and dying need to hear the message that Christ is the good shepherd who ushers us not only along still waters and green pastures, but through valleys of death and into the Lord’s house where there is an eternal Sabbath rest. As one of our elders put it to me recently—“every Sunday I need to hear the gospel again”. Those facing mortality crave the reminder that in Christ God has conquered death, that in Christ we are reconciled to God, that in Christ we will be guided through the transition out of this world into the next. How does a faith community do this? We, collectively we, visit our elders. We make hospital visits. We offer prayer shawls. We preach the gospel. We pray. We read the scriptures. We sing the hymns. Some days we attend worship for the sake of our sisters and brothers who need us here, not because we feel particularly worshipful or in hope of spiritual illumination.
Lest we think the church only serves the hurting it is good to remember that the aging, infirmed, and dying impart lessons to the rest of us. I had a conversation this past week with someone whose father has been visiting Art Wiens regularly. For those who don’t know, Art has a brain tumor and will die sooner than later. This peer of a terminally ill man reflected to his son: “Art showed us how to live and now Art is showing us how to die. Despite the cancer, Art is grateful for the extended time to visit with friends and family.” Art is suffering and dying well. The infirmed and aged have something to teach the physically healthy about this.
The connections we have within congregations and between communities of faith reveal Christ. These relationships allow for apocalypse moments; moments in which Christ is felt. The way to experience this revelation of Christ Jesus is simply to join in. Christ is revealed, apocalypse happens when we participate in the local and worldwide fellowship of God.
There is a darker side to the apocalypse which courses throughout 2nd Thessalonians. We got a bit of it as Geraldine read parts of chapter 1. The apocalypse is about personal conversation, it is about the body of Christ, and according to this letter it is also about divine reckoning. I deliberated long and hard before asking this portion of scripture to be read and opening a can of worms. I thought, however, it is a moment to grapple openly and honestly with biblical material which preaches and promises a day of vengeance.
At a personal level we can all understand the pain which comes from being wounded. Abuse, violence and exploitation make us long for justice. During the Truth and Reconciliation hearings held at Prairieland Park I remember sitting through testimony after testimony of those who had been abused by church workers. Tears and anger were commonplace. I remember visiting with Barkman relatives who had recently migrated from Kazakhstan to Germany. They told positive stories about their Muslim neighbors, but the Communists—the Communists heaven help them!— were described as devils fit for a lake of fire. It was the Communists who took their land, killed our relatives, deported the survivors, and enslaved them in the coal mines of Kazakhstan. For years they prayed for divine reckoning, and eventually the wall came down. Many in our school systems understand the pain caused by bullies. The Psalmist, the Apostle Paul, and many of us know the suffering which makes us long for a day of justice.
One of the by-products of living with persecution is often a dualistic worldview (Jacob Elias, 1 &2 Thessalonians (Believers Bible Commentary Series), p. 354). There is right and wrong, the saved and damned, children of light and children of dark, the spirit and the flesh. We see it in the Epistles as well as the Gospels. In the Adult Education hour poor Carman Bellamy has had to fend off the lay theologians of NPMC incensed by Paul’s dualistic framework in which the flesh is set against the spirit. Why is Paul so negative and his scepticism of human nature so intense? Well, he knew the dark depths and depravity of humanity. Paul was being bullied as community leaders hurled stones at him. He was living the Communist terror as loved ones were dragged off for execution. This dualism born of persecution explains some of the harsh material we find in the Bible, but as a Christian pacifist committed to the scriptures how do I deal with it?
Jesus Christ is my response. I look to him who in the garden said “put your sword in its place” (Mt 26.52), and him who upon the cross said “Father forgive them for they know not what they do” (Lk 23.34), and the martyred Stephen who said “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7.60). In other words, like the apostle Stephen I try to read the scriptures and live the faith through the lens of Jesus. The way Jesus lived his last days speaks to a non-dualistic view of the world, and at my best I want to be like that. Like Stephen and Jesus I hope my love and forgiveness creates a space by which positive apocalypse will happen. Living the apocalypse of Jesus, Jesus revealed, sometimes transforms hearts. In any case, if a person is not converted by the joy of my faith I truly doubt the threat of any hell will alter their course. And what of those who do not change their attitudes and actions? Biblical texts clearly outline the hell option. All of us, the good and not so good, are in the hands of God. Maybe God will exact revenge at the end of our days and maybe not. Either way, it is God’s business.
In conclusion let me return to Jim Mullet and his sermon. I agree with him that time is short. One of these days I may get hit on my bike commute and it will be all over. A flu bug or heart attack could end life rather quickly. Even at the normal pace of aging, life goes by so quickly that one day soon I will wake up fully aware that I am old. The most meaningful way I can imagine to live these days I have left is in relationship with Christ and Christ’s body (the church). In that relationship I have space to consider ethical and moral living. The giving and receiving of support enriches my life; I know I am alone. In Jesus I have connection to someone who has been through that whole death and resurrection thing, and it gives me a bit of assurance. Jesus and the church offer space for confession and absolution. These gifts permit me to live the apocalypse, Jesus revealed, rather than simply wait around for it. And that gives my life purpose, joy and meaning. I do wish it for all. Amen.