Introduction
Mark’s Apocalypse. Maybe it seems right that this should come up in light of the unease and tension of the nation and world at this moment. Leaning into the climactic and foreboding nature of this text and the implications for the upheaval of what is known. We could lean into that serendipitous/Holy Spirit feeling that God wants us to talk about the destabilization of all that we know.
However, can I just dispel the mystery for just a moment? Every year about 2 weeks before Advent (before Christ the King), we get an Apocalyptic text. And the reason is because of St. Martin’s Lent/Advent. Beginning in the 5th or 6th century (depending on who you are reading), there was a three-day a week fast from St. Martin of Tours Feast Day on Nov 11th (Martinmas) to Christmas. And this became known as St. Martin’s Lent. The 6-7 weeks were a time of preparing to be closer to God, less through penitence and more through fasting and intentional preparation. But as Adventus (Advent) begins to come around at a similar time, there is a conflation of the two. And so, those who were celebrating St. Martin’s Lent begin to apply the Adventus (preparing for the second coming) meaning to these practices. Thus, the readings of the time and some of the intentional preparations were around the return of Christ and our preparing for the coming Kindgom of God.
Our RCL is still a bit of a holdover from that tradition. Yes, Mark 13 does come after Mark 12 and that makes it easier to just gloss over this pre-Advent Apocalypse and think about this as just the next narrative in the story. But with Advent only a couple weeks away and given that we will hear a very similar scene from Luke 21:25-36 on Advent 1, the creators of the RCL could have gone in another direction and chosen a different text from some of the temple scenes. But instead, we get this precursor Apocalypse instead leaning into St. Martin’s Lent as opposed to leaning into Ordinary Time.
Why do I say all of this? Because every November this type of text comes up, and we have an option as preachers. We can begin to allude to the season to come (hoping not to step on too many Advent toes along the way) and talk about the Advent tension (already but not yet). Or we can pretend like this is out of left field and God is preparing us for the end. Or we can do a little bit of both and remind folks that these readings are cyclical and will come up time and time again and there will always be things going on that make us wonder if this is the end… but God is eternal.
This Week
In Mark 13:1-8, Jesus warns his disciples that even the most enduring structures will crumble. The temple—central to Israel’s life and worship and the established place of God’s presence—will not stand forever. It’s a dramatic reminder that no human institution, no matter how sacred or powerful, is immune to upheaval. But these words come not to sow fear but to encourage watchfulness and trust in God’s sovereignty amid life’s unpredictabilities.
Now, there is something that needs to be remembered here. Mark is very likely composing this Gospel in a state of some shock. Some scholars say that Mark is composing this before the destruction of the temple (66CE-70CE). I am of those who think this is moments after the destruction, a year or two at most. I believe Mark is orating/writing at a time of complete destabilization. While everyone is in a complete state of shock, Mark is composing the Good News of Jesus Christ (Mark 1:1). The Good News that despite the destruction of everything that 1st century folks thought they knew, God still remains, and God is still eternal.
Mark captures this feeling beautifully in the interaction of this scene. The disciples, destabilized and panicked by just the notion of the temple destruction ask when will these things be. But like much of the Gospel of Mark, it seems that they are slightly asking the wrong question. They want to focus on signs and determinations of when it will all end. Later in the speech Jesus will address questions of identity and those who will identify themselves as the Messiah saying, “I am he!” To this Jesus says that they should not be led astray.
So, what then are we to rely on? What are we to look for? What are we to prepare for (using that Advent language)?
For this we need to jump ahead or maybe backwards, to the words that we heard in the very first Sunday of Advent in Year B.
13:24But in those days, after that suffering,
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
25and the stars will be falling from heaven,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
26Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. 27Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.
28From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 29So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 30Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 31Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
There is a lot of clear indication that there is a double meaning to Jesus’ words in this entire speech. It is about the “end times” but it is also about the cross. Keep awake he’ll say, and then they fall asleep at Gethsemane. The sun will be darkened, and it will during his crucifixion. And yet, this too seems to be a both/and.
But in both instances, whether the end times or the cross, it is tempting to only focus on the chaos around, the hardships, the terribleness.
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]
Mark is writing from his very own fear and anxiety. But 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.
Everything will pass away. Heaven. Earth. The temple. Institutions. But the Word of God, Jesus Christ, God incarnate is with us forever.
Preaching Possibilities
Pre-Advent
This passage is fitting as we enter St. Martin’s Lent. Like Advent, St. Martin’s Lent is a season of quiet preparation, anticipating Christ’s coming but with a focus on humility and service. The season marks a call to reflect and deepen our reliance on God, even as winter approaches and the days grow shorter.
Mark 13 is also often seen as a precursor to Advent—a reminder that, even in the face of trials, wars, and unrest, God’s promises hold firm. This year, after another election season filled with heightened emotions, many may feel weary. Whether our hopes were fulfilled or disappointed by the results, the world still feels as though it teeters between certainty and chaos. Mark’s message offers us both a reality check and a word of assurance: “Do not be alarmed.” Jesus doesn’t deny the reality of difficult times; he names them. But he also redirects our gaze to God’s eternal presence, unshaken by the rising and falling of worldly powers.
This passage calls us to be awake and grounded in a different reality—one that isn’t swayed by headlines or outcomes but rooted in Christ’s eternal love. In this way, Mark 13 doesn’t speak only of calamity but of resilience and hope. God’s kingdom does not depend on the stability of earthly kingdoms; it is already here, breaking through, even in the face of turmoil. St. Martin’s Lent reminds us that, as followers of Christ, our task is not merely to brace for difficulty but to be instruments of peace and justice, bearing witness to a hope that transcends any human institution.
As we move toward Advent, we are invited into a season of preparation not only for Christ’s birth but for Christ’s presence here and now. We are not merely waiting for God to appear; God has been with us all along, inviting us to embody a different way, a different kingdom. Jesus’ words assure us that, amid the shaking of the world, God remains our steadfast center, inviting us to carry that peace into a world desperately in need of it.
[1] David Schnasa Jacobsen, Mark, 191.
Micah Krey 
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