Introduction
We enter the Gospel of Mark. And really, these first two Sundays in Advent are a wonderful way to enter into this new Gospel. And you all know that I love a good apocalyptic text to get us going!
Markan Context
Most commentators date Mark’s Gospel concurrent with the fall of the temple and the destruction of Jerusalem by Rome. So, Mark is writing somewhere around 70CE. Why that’s important is because unlike Matthew, Luke, and John, who all have space between this to add theological reasoning for the end of days and provide rationale for the “delay” of Jesus’ return, Mark is writing in the midst of chaos.
Mark’s community is in the midst of new violence, new oppression, a new diaspora, and sheer terror. Additionally, when Mark is writing about the end times, it’s because he knows that it’s immanent. Jesus must be on his way for the end times, especially given all that has happened with the destruction of the City of God. Mark’s Gospel doesn’t have a resurrection scene with Jesus (in the short ending) because the next time that we see Jesus will be the immanent end time. This is why the Gospel is so urgent. Every sentence seems to begin with “immediately” because everything is urgently important. It is critical to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ as quickly as possible because there is no guarantee that there will be a tomorrow.
This Week’s Context
In this week’s Gospel, Jesus is leaving the temple with his disciples after having been interrogated and tested by a series of religious leaders. Now out of context, our reading today sounds pretty scary. The sun being darkened out. Stars falling from heaven. The end of heaven and earth.
And yet this passage is about hope.
Right before this text, the disciples ask when this will all be and Jesus tells them of persecution, oppression, desolation, and sin and brokenness that they will endure. Before our text today, Jesus is speaking of the sin and brokenness of the world that is already so present around them. Oppression, violence, hate, and war. The very world that Mark is living in. The very world that we find ourselves in today.
And then our text for this Sunday begins, “[But] in those days… after that suffering…Then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds.” It is into that sin and brokenness that our Savior comes to fulfill the incredible promises of God.
David Schnasa Jacobsen writes, “Although the disciples begin the speech by wondering whether the temple’s destruction is the definitive sign of the end, Jesus’ reframes their concern by redirecting their gaze from penultimate signs of tribulation to something really worth seeing and watching for: the coming of the Son of the human.”[1]
Even in Mark’s real fear, he directs us readers wonderfully. Our inclination will always align with the disciples, we will watch the destruction, the war, the violence, the chaos of humanity, and get lost. But even in the midst of all of that, Mark shifts our gaze to the coming of Jesus. It is nuanced, but it is critical to faithful theology: the focus on the “end” is not about the “end,” it is about the coming of God.
So, while Mark is talking about a literal and immanent end time here, that helps us in our theology as we continue to wait.
The Coming of God
Augustine wrote in a letter to Hesychius, “When impious persecutors rage beyond measure, and when the fortune of this world seems to smile upon them and fear leaves them and they say: ‘Peace and security,’ then the stars shall fall from heaven and the powers of heaven shall be moved, when many who seemed to shine brilliantly with grace will yield to the persecutors and will fall, and even the strongest of the faithful will be shaken.”[2]
You may be scratching your head at my usage of this letter as it only seems to add to the terrifying nature of this text. However, when we think about Jacobsen’s point, it makes more sense. When the powerful of this world inflict their supremacy, do we fixate on their power and destruction, or do we turn our gaze towards God and remember that there is another way of being?
An argument of the early church—included in this same letter from Augustine—as they long awaited Christ’s “second-coming” was whether Christ’s coming in the clouds is the physical body of Christ, or it is the Church. Augustine writes, “In one way it will be understood of the Church coming, as it were, on the cloud, just as even now it does not cease to come in accordance with the words, Now you will see that Son of Man sitting at the right hand of power and coming on the clouds of the sky, but then with great power and majesty (Mt 26:64), because his greater power and majesty will be seen by the saints to whom he will give great courage so that they are not overcome by such a great persecution.”[3]
But what if it is both? What if is it the Church who is coming in the midst the hardships of the world, but only as we are focused on our Christ who is coming and is already among us? In the midst of the tumult, if we turn our gaze towards God, toward the coming of Christ, then we will see a new vision and possibility of what God desires for this world.
Referring to the first Augustine quote, have we not seen in history when the church succumbs to the powers of the world? Thinking of the crusades or the Third Reich (especially in the establishment of the Reich Church). Even the most faithful were shaken. When even the church loses sight of Jesus, then it feels as though the end really has come and the day is lost.
“Keep alert,” though. Not for the signs of destruction. Not for the violence or threat, but for the presence of Christ among us. With our eyes on Christ, that is where we will find our guidance and our next step forward as the Church in this world. Because that is where Christ comes to meet us. In the midst of the messiness, in the humanity of the world, Jesus comes to us as one of us, so that we might see a new way, a different way of being. But we need to keep our eyes on Jesus.
Preaching Possibilities
As we turn into Advent, we are supposed to be in that wonderful season of waiting and hoping. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t care about being the Advent guards and stopping people from putting up Christmas lights. Go for it and bring yourselves some joy!
But just like we can’t skip from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday without Good Friday, we cannot jump from Thanksgiving to Christmas without pausing for some reflection in Advent.
Why does Jesus come?
It’s not because this world is perfect. It’s not because all are fed and cared for. It’s not because there is peace on Earth.
Jesus comes because the world is broken. Jesus comes because there are those who are hungry and there are those who need care. Jesus comes as the Prince of Peace because this world is constantly at war.
Jesus comes because we need him. And so, in this season, we get to reflect on why we need him and the promises that are found in his presence among us. Among the disciples who knew him face to face. Among Mark’s followers who longed for a promise. Among the Confessing Church that stood courageously against the Third Reich. Among us here and now.
Why do we need Jesus?
When we ask that question and turn our gaze toward the presence of Christ in this world, then we will be ready for his coming. So keep awake.
[1] David Schnasa Jacobsen, Mark, 191.
[2] Augustine, Letters 199 to Hesychius, 39.
[3] Augustine, Letter 199, 41.
Micah Krey 
Leave a comment