Just the Beginning
Mark 13:1-8
As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!’ Then Jesus asked him, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’
When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?’ Then Jesus began to say to them, ‘Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, “I am he!” and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
Apocalyptic writing is really something, isn’t it? It’s kind of overwhelming. It’s definitely a little scary. And there are so many different ways to read troubling words like these. It’s easy to be dismissive—that words like these are the ravings of some kind of paranoid lunatic, trying to scare people into believing his or her way. Or, on the other end of the spectrum, we can read words like this and become frightened, panicked, even despairing. We can read about coming earthquakes, wars and famines and assume, alright, guess this is it, nothing more to do, let’s just ride it out and hope we’re saved.
It's easy to fall prey to these tendencies—panic and anxiety, or avoidance and dismissiveness—when we read such fiery language as this. But this passage is so much more than destructive language, or prophetic visions. This passage isn’t, in fact, a warning of an imminent apocalypse. Rather, it’s a warning of people warning of an imminent apocalypse. Just as last week, Jesus warned us to beware of hypocritical scribes and power-hungry religious authorities; well, this week he’s warning us about fear-mongering false prophets, and instructing us to be discerning and vigilant about what is real and what is not; about what is truth and what is a lie.
This story begins with Jesus’ disciples admiring the magnificent temple in Jerusalem—and then Jesus immediately makes it clear that they’re admiring a doomed building. He prophesies the destruction of the temple as the beginning of difficult and trying times. The shocked disciples (my God, do they have any other reactions aside from shock and awe) then ask Jesus when to expect these frightening times. Jesus is cryptic in his answer—which makes perfect sense; later in this same chapter in verses 32-33, Jesus makes it clear, or rather, makes it purposefully unclear: “But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.” The short passage that Sheila read for us today, and really, the entirety of chapter 13, which is Jesus’ longest speech in Mark, is all about being alert, being wise, and being discerning about your surroundings and the people in whom we choose to trust.
For those of you who still receive emails from the Hartland listserv, oh my goodness, the last several weeks have been a minefield, haven’t they? I think it was Linda Johnston who told me the theory behind when the listserv gets a little extra—apparently, it’s often right around the time it starts getting colder and darker earlier, and then again in early Spring when people are getting cabin fever. But anyway, for those of you who have were spared the listserv drama this week, there was quite a bit of misinformation and fear-mongering going on around vaccines in the listserv—and ensuing debates around free speech, what is it, what constitutes it, and where do we draw the line. And this is not a civics lecture, so I will neither get into what is and what is not free speech, and while I am obviously pro-vaccine, I am not going to order anyone up here to do one thing or the other.
“Beware no one leads you astray,” Jesus says, referring to false prophets, people who claim to come in Jesus’ name confidently and passionately preaching and yelling about end-times, about death and destruction. Jesus warns us against falling prey to the panic, to falling prey to our deepest fears—because this is what false prophets try to take advantage of. It’s no accident that much of the misinformation floating around about vaccines has to do with harm to children and harm to people’s fertility. This is one of our greatest fears, right? Innocent and vulnerable children being harmed by the powerful. And now that the COVID vaccine has been approved safe for younger children, these campaigns are rampant again, as anyone who is subscribed to the listserv has seen over these past few weeks. It’s during times of crisis like this—pandemics, extreme division, natural and human-made disasters—this is prime hunting ground for false prophets. We’re already all on edge, we’re still worried about catching COVID, getting sick; we’re beginning to worry about midterm elections, about what kind of extreme weather will we be met with this winter, we’re especially susceptible to panic and fear and conspiracies, no matter how unfounded or irrational it all may be.
So much of what’s between the lines in this passage is about deciphering what is true and what is false, and, in the midst of strife and crises to remain as calm as we can, and also vigilant. This is Jesus saying, there will be difficult times ahead—war, disasters, destruction—but amidst all this turmoil and chaos, we have to understand that this is not the end, and we cannot give up the fight to make this earth as it is in heaven. It would be easy, but dangerous to interpret Jesus saying, “this must take place,” as permission to sit back and just let all this destruction occur, believing that this has to happen, and therefore assuming there’s nothing to be done. But we can’t ignore what immediately follows this—“…but the end is still to come.” It’s not over yet.
Church, I’m going to be real with you for a minute—while I’ve always known I wanted to a kid, these past few years made me really uncertain about whether I should. I can certainly be vigilant about misinformation, and I will make sure my child gets vaccinated. I can be rational about what my child will be taught in schools, and be hopefully confident that they are being taught the good and the bad about the history of this country. I can be confident that I will be able to raise my kid in a community of kind and compassionate people who will look out for them and support them. But what I cannot be sure about is what this earth will look like a hundred, fifty, even ten years from now. These past few years have made me realize that to bring a child into this world, is to bring a child into a world where climate refugees will no longer be a maybe, they’re already a reality, and they exist right now, in our own country; people whose islands are flooding on the Gulf Coast, being forced to find a new place to build their lives. It means bringing a child into a world where snow may become less and less frequent; bringing a child into a Vermont that deals with more and more flooding. It means bringing a child into a world where there are certain animals and species they may never see outside of drawings of photos because of mass extinctions.
Please don’t get me wrong, I’m so excited to have this kid, but I know it really does mean bringing them into a world of uncertainty, and a lot of what Jesus warns us about here. I’m not looking forward to explaining to my kid, “yes, we’ve known for a long time the world is getting warmer, and no, people in power aren’t doing much about it.”
Now, quick contextual/historical/literary lesson here—in the Bible, there is a clear move, a transition from prophetic literature of the Hebrew Bible—that is, people looking to the near-future, and claiming certain things will happen, certain people will be lifted up, and certain people will be destroyed. In this time, it was believed that these prophets were speaking for God. But as time continued, many of these prophesies went unfulfilled. It created a distrust of prophets, but more than that, it created a distrust of God. So the prophesies changed. It went from prophesy to apocalypse. In an essay about the roots of Judeo-Christian apocalypse, the author Casey Starnes writes, “The Prophets wished to resurrect Israel, but the apocalyptists saw the difficulty in this. Thus the coming golden age was pushed forward beyond human time. They…looked to the mythic past and the idealized future more than the present.”[i] So people were so fed up with failed prophesy, that they changed the game. They rewrote the future. They realized that mortal humans couldn’t truly know things so they write about something that was beyond anyone’s understanding. They wrote about times that hadn’t happened yet, that still haven’t happened. Despite so much of the fiery and frightening language of apocalyptic writings, this type writing actually came out of a need for hope. People couldn’t handle be disappointed again and again with another broken promise, so they began thinking farther ahead. Maybe a little too far ahead.
Because right now, we seem to still be in this strange apocalyptic era. We are still fearing the end times. And I mean, I get it, how do we move past something that hasn’t happened yet? But things are different now. We know so much more now. We can discern the false prophets spouting fear-mongering lies from the scientists and the experts who quite literally want to save the world. After the thinkers and theologians and disciples in Jesus’ day became fed up with broken promises and false predictions, they rewrote the rules. Instead of swearing up and down they knew what might happen in the immediate future, they looked to a far off future in which things would finally be equal, in which the suffering would finally all end. If they could rewrite the rules, why can’t we? Aren’t you fed up with people not doing anything about all the very real problems we’re facing? Aren’t you fed up with people disregarding the plights of the poor and refugee, both the political refugee and the climate refugee alike? I’m fed up, and Church, I’ll be honest, especially now that I’m expecting a child, I’m scared. I’m scared that we’ll just keep coasting along knowing things are deeply broken but pretending like it’s all fine and it’ll work itself out. I’m scared that we’ll never get out of this apocalyptic mindset and we’re all just throwing our hands in the air and waiting for it all to end.
But Church, as much as the writer of Mark was influenced by this apocalyptic mindset of his time, as uncertain and chaotic and trying as the future looked, there is hope in this passage. Because this is not the end. We’ve gone too far now to completely reverse what we’ve done to this planet. This world will experience extreme weather, this world will experience catastrophe, for the sake my child, for the sake of all those just being born, for all those continuing to have this radical and ridiculous hope by procreating during such a scary time, I have to believe what Jesus is saying in this passage, and that this is not the end.
There’s so much nihilism out there, and so much denial about what climate change really means, about what the division in this country really means for our future. There are so many people trying to take advantage of this nihilism, this fear, of this despair, by trying to sow more division, spreading lies, politicizing everything from masks to vaccines to the right to vote, to the very future of this planet. It’s all so we give up. It’s all so we get too overwhelmed to continue. But Church, if we continue to read Jesus’ speech in chapter 13, we will understand that Jesus is telling us never to give up, and to never become complacent. Jesus is telling us to never to stop proclaiming the Good News of love, of compassion, no matter how futile it may seem at times. No matter what we may see in our lifetimes, no matter what my child sees in their lifetime, no matter how dire things may get, Jesus is telling us to keep the faith and not give in to those false prophets who would tell us that this is the end, and that it’s time to give up. Jesus says plainly that this is not the end; that “This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” We still have time, church, thank God. How much time, I don’t know; no one knows. And so we will remain alert and vigilant. We will never become complacent. We will always lead with hope and with love. Amen.
[i] Starnes, Casey. "Ancient Visions: The Roots of Judeo-Christian Apocalypse." End of Days: Essays on the Apocalypse from Antiquity to Modernity, edited by Karolyn Kinane and Michael A. Ryan, McFarland & Company Inc., 2009, pg. 32-33.
