This was the final sermon on Mark 13.1-8 that I preached at Bethany Village. This sermon was at the "main" service which was broadcasted throughout the Bethany campus on channel 98.
It was probably a warm day on June 22, 1963 when President John Fitzgerald Kennedy climbed up the podium steps in front of a crowd amassed in West Berlin. Soviet occupation in East Berlin and all of Germany had created much tension within the city as people feared that their very freedom would be taken away. Just under two years earlier a great wall was built, splitting the once thriving city in two, separating families and friends and neighbors. And Kennedy looked over the crowd and said:
"Two thousand years ago the proudest boast was civis Romanus sum. Today, in the world of freedom, the proudest boast is 'Ich bin ein Berliner'... All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words 'Ich bin ein Berliner!'"
It was another warm day, I am sure, almost twenty four years later on June 12, 1987, when President Ronald Regan stood in front of the Berlin Wall and spoke a phrase that reverberated through the streets of West Berlin. Regan looked over the crowd, the monumental wall standing silent behind him, addressing the General Secretary of the Soviet Union Mikhail Gorbachev and said:
"Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall."
A few minutes later in his speech, Regan said:
"As I looked out a moment ago from the Reichstag, that embodiment of German unity, I noticed words crudely spray-painted upon the wall, perhaps by a young Berliner, 'This wall will fall. Beliefs become reality.' Yes, across Europe, this wall will fall. For it cannot withstand faith; it cannot withstand truth. The wall cannot withstand freedom."
It was perhaps a cold day, twenty –nine months later on 9 November 1989 when the doors of the Brandenburg Gate were finally opened and inevitably soon after the wall was torn down, stone from stone. When families and friends separated were able to meet once again, when a city broken, torn in two, was able to begin the journey towards healing and wholeness.
I can only imagine what that wall—that silent presence—looked like, looming above houses and streets, a silent sentinel. It must have been an awesome, terrible sight to behold.
It was perhaps a very hot day almost two thousand years ago when the disciples of Jesus entered into the court of the temple compound. Surrounding them were huge walls of magnificent stone, ornamented with gold leaf and marble. There was probably a sweet smell of burning incense and offerings. There was probably a loud roar of the crowds interchanging monies and animals and all sorts of things. And in the center, looming above the crowd was it. The temple itself, a square building that was over five hundred years old at the time. Inside were several chambers, each more holy than the last. And in the very center was the Kodesh Hakodashim, the holy of holies, as it was called, the resting place of the arc of the covenant, the very throne of God. Only the most holy were allowed to enter, the rest of the crowd kept out by beautifully decorated curtains for fear that their unclean hands might taint God’s throne.
The disciples were in awe, I am sure. One of them called out “Look, teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!” Jesus turns to his disciple, his follower, his friend, and perhaps with sad eyes, perhaps not, tells a chilling prophecy: “Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”
It was probably a very sweltering day almost forty years later, on August 4th in the year 70 AD when Jesus’ prophecy came true and the Romans, who were occupying Jerusalem at the time, responded to a revolt and tore the temple apart, stone from stone, so that all that remained was the temple mount and the west wall, known today as the Wailing Wall.
The very walls and curtains which were meant to separate the clean from the unclean were destroyed. The walls were torn down, stone from stone, so that there was nothing left to bar access to God for all the unclean. Let me say that again. The walls, which kept all but a very, very select few from God were now destroyed.
God was supposed to live in the temple. But, the temple could not contain God any more than a bucket could contain an ocean. God is greater than the temple walls. I imagine a cathedral today. Like the giant ones in Europe or even the massive National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Those places make you feel awe and wonder. But, does that cathedral contain God? Can we build walls high enough to hold God down? No! God is bigger than the largest cathedral. God does not live in the cathedrals, but God lives and dwells with us.
Jesus invites us to imagine a world without walls separating the clean from the unclean, the pure from the unpure, and the holy from the unholy. Jesus invites us to imagine a world where nothing can separate us from God and nothing can separate us from living together as one, as a community, as the very children of God.
I want you to stop for a moment. Let us stop and imagine a world with no walls. Where men and women are paid equally for doing the same amount of work, where there is no slavery or where people can be treated the same no matter what race or culture they come from. Where the chains and walls that bind all of us are laid aside and broken down for good. A world where class, social status, politics, none of that matters. Where us on the East or West side of our own Berlin, wherever that is, can see that wall come down.
Even just imagine Bethany Village with no walls. Our community and all the walls taken down, so that the Assisted Living and the Skilled Nursing and the Bethany Towers and the Court Apartments and the West Apartments and all the cottages and estates had no walls so that we were forced to live together as a community. Close your eyes and just imagine this. Count to ten…
Pretty interesting, huh? There would be no more financial, health, or social barriers between us. I’m obviously not telling us to physically tear down the beautiful brick walls of the Bethany Village Community, because there are different levels of need that are important and are strived to be met within the various locations. However, I do want us to look at ways where we can make these walls—physically and metaphysically—smaller in our community. Here and now, how can we make Bethany Village ONE community, not six.
How do we build walls up between us? Maybe we say unkind words to one another. Maybe we hurt one another with our actions. Maybe we spend our time thinking only about ourselves and our possessions instead of sharing our time and our passions with one another.
My challenge for us is to tear down these walls we have built up. Instead of blocking people out, invite people in. How do we do that, you might ask?
Chaplain Sharon Miller gave us a wonderful sermon last Sunday about volunteering our time, possessions, passions, and talents here. I have seen wonders untold—people sharing their artistic gifts, people sharing their musical talents in the choirs and playing the piano for our services, people donating their time by volunteering at activities. These are all ways where we chip away at these massive walls between the “us” and the “them,” where we can uplift our brothers and sisters and become one community. But there is always need for more, more volunteers. We each have talents, let us use them to the best of our abilities. And even if we are in poor physical health, we have one very, very powerful gift. The ability to pray. And to gather as a community—even via channel 98—and worship as one the God who tears down walls so we can be built up.
You see, our God is not a God of high ceilinged cathedrals, as beautiful as they might be. Our God is a God that loves us so much that God become human and sacrificed his life for us, so that the walls between humanity and God that our sin built could be torn down forever. And the good news is that when other people build up walls—metaphysical or physical—to keep us out, when we feel lonely, lost, lifeless, hopeless, any of those things, Jesus tells us that one day all those feelings will perish. All the walls that have kept us down, all the chains that have kept us tethered, will be broken. God says that all the turmoil that we feel is but the pangs of birth—the pain and trials of being in labor.
Next Sunday is Christ the King, and then the Thursday after that is Thanksgiving, where we gather together with family or friends or gather here together as a community and share our thanksgivings. And do you know what Sunday follows Thanksgiving this year? The first Sunday in Advent. How appropriate is it in today’s Gospel that we are told to keep alert, to keep watch. Because soon we will enter into the Advent season where we pay special attention to the expectancy of Christ’s return. When Christ returns… When all the walls that we have built up ourselves or the walls that have been built up around us so that we are separated, like East Berlin from the West, will be torn down. When truly we will be as one people with no separation between us, nothing holding us back from being loved for who we are. When we will be able to lift every voice and sing as one, until earth and heaven ring and the stars and the sun and the very earth itself vibrates with our songs of thanksgiving, as we can shed and lay aside our weary, toiled past at last. Where no stone will be left on top of stone. All the turmoil we live in is but the birth pains, and then… on that day… all of creation will finally be reborn and overwhelmed with love and peace.
Until then, let us continue on this journey helping each other along the way. Until then… Ah, until then…
Let us pray: Blessed are you, O Lord our God, king of the universe, your sovereign purpose brings salvation to birth. Give us faith to be steadfast amid the tumults of this world, trusting that your kingdom comes and your will is done through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Bethany Village Sermon IV: Part II
This sermon was also on the Mark 13 text and was presented to the Assisted Living and the Bethany Towers area. The Bethany Towers is a government HUB building. The text was the same as first sermon, Mark 13.1-8, Mark's mini-apocalypse.
Do you remember the great snowstorm of 1994? It was in February. I remember it clearly, even though I was only eight years old. We were coming home from church late that night—after children’s choir practice. I remember walking out of church to see flurries coming down. And then we went to Burger King for dinner. On the news they were talking about the storm that was headed our way, but we did not need the news to tell us. In our short meal at Burger King we could see the snow rising up and up on the ground. I remember that night being excited because I knew it had snowed so much already there would be no school the next day. And then, I woke up the next day and ran outside to see that the snow was taller than I was!
It was an exciting time to be a young person. Snow holds a special fascination, almost magical, in the hearts and minds of a child. I remember my brother and I built a fort out of the snow. It was quite magnificent, if I do say so myself. The walls were probably three feet high of snow. There was a tunnel to get into the fort, and a hole dug into the bottom of it full of snowballs for snowball fights.
And my brother and I decided that no girls should be allowed in our fort.
And, then, guess who came outside to play? My sister Jenna. She was only four at the time. Well, she asked if she could play in the fort, and I said, “No! No girls are allowed!”
And Jenna said “But I want to play in it!”
And do you know what I said? I said “No! You’re not good enough.” You’re. Not. Good. Enough. As soon as I said those words I knew I had said something I should not have said, even before I noticed the tears forming in my sister’s eyes. I built up a wall of snow, and how easy it was for that wall of snow—of frozen water and air—to come between me and my sister. Before I could say anything or apologize, my sister ran back inside, crying. And I got up to follow her and tripped on my snow boots, which were a little too big for me anyway, and fell face first into the snow, on top of my snow fort’s walls, crushing them. All that hard work that my brother and I put into those walls was gone in an instant, the walls now nothing more than a pile of snow.
Why do I tell you this story? Well, in the Bible story we heard about Jesus today, the disciples are looking around at the temple, this beautiful, magnificent sight. It had gold and marble and huge, giant stones. It was an enormous complex of several buildings, not to mention the most holy of holies—the Kodesh Hakodashim—where the arc of the covenant was held. Only the most holy priests were allowed behind the beautiful curtains that hid the holy of holies from the rest of the temple complex. It was said that God dwealt there, that God actually LIVED in the Kodesh Hakodashim. And so, out of respect for God, there were many purity rituals that people had to take before they could enter the temple, let alone the holy of holies.
And the disciples, the followers of Jesus, marveled at the temple and said “look at this beautiful place!”
And Jesus said “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” Well, guess what? Jesus was right. The temple was destroyed in 70 AD (CE). The temple, which was built to be a house for God was taken apart, stone by stone, until there was nothing left but the mount it was fixed upon.
God was supposed to live in the temple. But, the temple could not contain God. God is greater than the temple walls. I imagine a cathedral today. Like the giant ones in Europe or even the massive National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Those places make you feel awe and wonder. But, does that cathedral contain God? Can we build walls high enough to hold God down? No! God is bigger than the largest cathedral. God does not live in the cathedrals, but God lives and dwells with us.
Jesus said that nothing on earth shall last but my words endure forever.
Just like in my story about my walls of snow, the temple walls were used to separate the clean from the unclean. We build up walls all the time, don’t we? I’m not talking about walls of brick and stone, but the walls we build on our lives that keep others away. What kind of walls do we build today? How do we keep people out? How do we make people feel unwelcome?
Maybe we say unkind words to one another. Maybe we hurt one another with our actions. Maybe we spend our time thinking only about ourselves and our possessions instead of sharing our time and our passions with one another.
My challenge for us is to tear down these walls we have built up. Instead of blocking people out, invite people in. How do we do that, you might ask?
Well, being here is one way. Coming together as a community to worship God. Inviting people to come to worship. Volunteering time to help those in need. And even if you have poor health and cannot do any of these things, there is one powerful way, one very powerful way I think we can help one another. Do you know what it is? Prayer! We can pray for one another.
You see, our God is not a God of high ceilinged cathedrals, as beautiful as they might be. Our God is a God that loves us so much that God become human and sacrificed his life for us, so that the walls between humanity and God that our sin built could be torn down forever. And the good news is that when other people build up walls—metaphysical or physical—to keep us out, when we feel lonely, lost, lifeless, hopeless, any of those things, Jesus tells us that one day all those feelings will perish. All the walls that have kept us down, all the chains that have kept us tethered, will be broken. God says that all the turmoil that we feel is but the pangs of birth—the pain and trials of being in labor.
Do you remember the great snowstorm of 1994? It was in February. I remember it clearly, even though I was only eight years old. We were coming home from church late that night—after children’s choir practice. I remember walking out of church to see flurries coming down. And then we went to Burger King for dinner. On the news they were talking about the storm that was headed our way, but we did not need the news to tell us. In our short meal at Burger King we could see the snow rising up and up on the ground. I remember that night being excited because I knew it had snowed so much already there would be no school the next day. And then, I woke up the next day and ran outside to see that the snow was taller than I was!
It was an exciting time to be a young person. Snow holds a special fascination, almost magical, in the hearts and minds of a child. I remember my brother and I built a fort out of the snow. It was quite magnificent, if I do say so myself. The walls were probably three feet high of snow. There was a tunnel to get into the fort, and a hole dug into the bottom of it full of snowballs for snowball fights.
And my brother and I decided that no girls should be allowed in our fort.
And, then, guess who came outside to play? My sister Jenna. She was only four at the time. Well, she asked if she could play in the fort, and I said, “No! No girls are allowed!”
And Jenna said “But I want to play in it!”
And do you know what I said? I said “No! You’re not good enough.” You’re. Not. Good. Enough. As soon as I said those words I knew I had said something I should not have said, even before I noticed the tears forming in my sister’s eyes. I built up a wall of snow, and how easy it was for that wall of snow—of frozen water and air—to come between me and my sister. Before I could say anything or apologize, my sister ran back inside, crying. And I got up to follow her and tripped on my snow boots, which were a little too big for me anyway, and fell face first into the snow, on top of my snow fort’s walls, crushing them. All that hard work that my brother and I put into those walls was gone in an instant, the walls now nothing more than a pile of snow.
Why do I tell you this story? Well, in the Bible story we heard about Jesus today, the disciples are looking around at the temple, this beautiful, magnificent sight. It had gold and marble and huge, giant stones. It was an enormous complex of several buildings, not to mention the most holy of holies—the Kodesh Hakodashim—where the arc of the covenant was held. Only the most holy priests were allowed behind the beautiful curtains that hid the holy of holies from the rest of the temple complex. It was said that God dwealt there, that God actually LIVED in the Kodesh Hakodashim. And so, out of respect for God, there were many purity rituals that people had to take before they could enter the temple, let alone the holy of holies.
And the disciples, the followers of Jesus, marveled at the temple and said “look at this beautiful place!”
And Jesus said “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” Well, guess what? Jesus was right. The temple was destroyed in 70 AD (CE). The temple, which was built to be a house for God was taken apart, stone by stone, until there was nothing left but the mount it was fixed upon.
God was supposed to live in the temple. But, the temple could not contain God. God is greater than the temple walls. I imagine a cathedral today. Like the giant ones in Europe or even the massive National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Those places make you feel awe and wonder. But, does that cathedral contain God? Can we build walls high enough to hold God down? No! God is bigger than the largest cathedral. God does not live in the cathedrals, but God lives and dwells with us.
Jesus said that nothing on earth shall last but my words endure forever.
Just like in my story about my walls of snow, the temple walls were used to separate the clean from the unclean. We build up walls all the time, don’t we? I’m not talking about walls of brick and stone, but the walls we build on our lives that keep others away. What kind of walls do we build today? How do we keep people out? How do we make people feel unwelcome?
Maybe we say unkind words to one another. Maybe we hurt one another with our actions. Maybe we spend our time thinking only about ourselves and our possessions instead of sharing our time and our passions with one another.
My challenge for us is to tear down these walls we have built up. Instead of blocking people out, invite people in. How do we do that, you might ask?
Well, being here is one way. Coming together as a community to worship God. Inviting people to come to worship. Volunteering time to help those in need. And even if you have poor health and cannot do any of these things, there is one powerful way, one very powerful way I think we can help one another. Do you know what it is? Prayer! We can pray for one another.
You see, our God is not a God of high ceilinged cathedrals, as beautiful as they might be. Our God is a God that loves us so much that God become human and sacrificed his life for us, so that the walls between humanity and God that our sin built could be torn down forever. And the good news is that when other people build up walls—metaphysical or physical—to keep us out, when we feel lonely, lost, lifeless, hopeless, any of those things, Jesus tells us that one day all those feelings will perish. All the walls that have kept us down, all the chains that have kept us tethered, will be broken. God says that all the turmoil that we feel is but the pangs of birth—the pain and trials of being in labor.
Bethany Sermon IV: Part 1, Skilled Nursing
Hello, all! I'm posting my sermons from this past Sunday at Bethany Village Retirement Communities in Mechanicsburg, PA. There are four different services that I preached at, each in a different level of care. Sometimes, this means that I will write a different sermon for each, and sometimes it just means that I will preach the same sermon, but with a slightly different twist, relying on context. Well, this particular Sunday was a particularly hard text, so I decided to preach three different sermons, one for the Skilled Nursing facility, one for the Assisted Living and Bethany Towers services, and then one for the "main" worship service at 7:00 in the community room that is also broadcasted throughout the Bethany campus on channel 98. Anyway, I decided to share all three sermons. This sermon is for the Skilled Nursing facility, which includes people of various mental and physical health states.
This is the text: Mark 13.1-8 (called Mark's mini-apocalypse)
1As he was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!"
2"Do you see all these great buildings?" replied Jesus. "Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down."
3As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John and Andrew asked him privately, 4"Tell us, when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are all about to be fulfilled?"
5Jesus said to them: "Watch out that no one deceives you. 6Many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and will deceive many. 7When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. 8Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains.
Sermon
Have you ever expected something, hoped for something so much? Maybe in school, you hoped for a good grade. Or you hoped for good test results at a doctor’s appointment.
Have you ever been to a baby shower? I don’t mean like a miniature shower to bathe children in, or that babies came down from the sky like rain. Isn’t that strange that they call it a baby shower? But anyways, a baby shower is a celebration for people who are expecting a baby. People often come and give presents—things like diapers and baby clothes and all sorts of things. It is usually a hopeful time for the family and friends of the future parents.
What are some of the emotions that you think a couple expecting a baby must be feeling?
Hope? Love? Joy? Happiness? Excited? Scared? Fearful? Pain?
A friend of mine recently had her first child. She told me that during her pregnancy, while she was expecting her first baby, she said she was very scared. She was worried, hoping that the baby would be born healthy. She was also worried that she would be a good enough parent. Her pregnancy was a very hard pregnancy; she had a lot of illness that made the doctors’ concerned for her and the baby. So, on the one hand, she was very excited about having her first baby, but on the other hand, she was also very scared.
Well, we talked about some of the emotions that a couple has who are expecting a baby. What about some emotions that someone might feel when their baby is born, and they get to see their baby for the first time?
Joy? Happiness? Love? Maybe be a little scared, too?
Well, when my friend had her baby and got to see her baby for the first time, she said that it did not matter how scared she was, it did not matter how hard her pregnancy was or how painful it was or any of that. When she saw her baby for the first time, she said she was overwhelmed with love and joy. Sure, raising a child can be scary, sometimes, but in those first few moments after she had her baby and saw her child for the first time, all she could feel was love.
In the Bible story today about Jesus, Jesus tells us about all the bad things that happen in the world. Jesus said the temple will be destroyed. Jesus talked about lots of wars, like the wars we are in today in Iraq and Afghanistan. Jesus talked about famine, where people go hungry. About sickness, like the H1N1 virus we’ve been hearing in the news that has been taking so many lives of young people, killing over 6,500 people so far worldwide. People we love and care about will get sick and die, and how there will be earthquakes like the one that caused the tsunami in India that killed all those people, over 300,000 people. All these bad things that are going on in our world. Sometimes, it can be scary. Sometimes, we can almost feel hopeless. But, what does Jesus say about all of this?
Jesus says “do not be alarmed.” Jesus says that all things will eventually come to an end, but Jesus’ words will never die (Mark 13.31). Jesus says that all these bad things happening are like the birth pangs. Remember in the beginning of my message I asked you what some of the emotions were? And I told you the story about my friend who was scared when she was pregnant? Jesus said that all these bad things are like that, scary and painful. But, remember the feelings that you have when the baby is born? And how my friend said none of her fears or pains mattered, all she could feel was love? Well, all these bad things can give us fear and pain, just like being in labor. But, Jesus promises that one day all things will be better. That all the bad things I talked about—the H1N1 virus, the famine, the wars, all of that—will go away. And what will be left? The same love that my friend had when she saw her baby for the first time. All the bad things will pass away, but God will create—give birth to, in a sense—a new creation, where nothing bad can happen anymore. Where we will all live together in harmony, where there will be no wars, no sickness, no earthquakes. No fear, no hopelessness. Where all will be well.
Let us pray: Blessed are you, O Lord our God, king of the universe, your sovereign purpose brings salvation to birth. Give us faith to be steadfast amid the tumults of this world, trusting that your kingdom comes and your will is done through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.
This is the text: Mark 13.1-8 (called Mark's mini-apocalypse)
1As he was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!"
2"Do you see all these great buildings?" replied Jesus. "Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down."
3As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John and Andrew asked him privately, 4"Tell us, when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are all about to be fulfilled?"
5Jesus said to them: "Watch out that no one deceives you. 6Many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and will deceive many. 7When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. 8Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains.
Sermon
Have you ever expected something, hoped for something so much? Maybe in school, you hoped for a good grade. Or you hoped for good test results at a doctor’s appointment.
Have you ever been to a baby shower? I don’t mean like a miniature shower to bathe children in, or that babies came down from the sky like rain. Isn’t that strange that they call it a baby shower? But anyways, a baby shower is a celebration for people who are expecting a baby. People often come and give presents—things like diapers and baby clothes and all sorts of things. It is usually a hopeful time for the family and friends of the future parents.
What are some of the emotions that you think a couple expecting a baby must be feeling?
Hope? Love? Joy? Happiness? Excited? Scared? Fearful? Pain?
A friend of mine recently had her first child. She told me that during her pregnancy, while she was expecting her first baby, she said she was very scared. She was worried, hoping that the baby would be born healthy. She was also worried that she would be a good enough parent. Her pregnancy was a very hard pregnancy; she had a lot of illness that made the doctors’ concerned for her and the baby. So, on the one hand, she was very excited about having her first baby, but on the other hand, she was also very scared.
Well, we talked about some of the emotions that a couple has who are expecting a baby. What about some emotions that someone might feel when their baby is born, and they get to see their baby for the first time?
Joy? Happiness? Love? Maybe be a little scared, too?
Well, when my friend had her baby and got to see her baby for the first time, she said that it did not matter how scared she was, it did not matter how hard her pregnancy was or how painful it was or any of that. When she saw her baby for the first time, she said she was overwhelmed with love and joy. Sure, raising a child can be scary, sometimes, but in those first few moments after she had her baby and saw her child for the first time, all she could feel was love.
In the Bible story today about Jesus, Jesus tells us about all the bad things that happen in the world. Jesus said the temple will be destroyed. Jesus talked about lots of wars, like the wars we are in today in Iraq and Afghanistan. Jesus talked about famine, where people go hungry. About sickness, like the H1N1 virus we’ve been hearing in the news that has been taking so many lives of young people, killing over 6,500 people so far worldwide. People we love and care about will get sick and die, and how there will be earthquakes like the one that caused the tsunami in India that killed all those people, over 300,000 people. All these bad things that are going on in our world. Sometimes, it can be scary. Sometimes, we can almost feel hopeless. But, what does Jesus say about all of this?
Jesus says “do not be alarmed.” Jesus says that all things will eventually come to an end, but Jesus’ words will never die (Mark 13.31). Jesus says that all these bad things happening are like the birth pangs. Remember in the beginning of my message I asked you what some of the emotions were? And I told you the story about my friend who was scared when she was pregnant? Jesus said that all these bad things are like that, scary and painful. But, remember the feelings that you have when the baby is born? And how my friend said none of her fears or pains mattered, all she could feel was love? Well, all these bad things can give us fear and pain, just like being in labor. But, Jesus promises that one day all things will be better. That all the bad things I talked about—the H1N1 virus, the famine, the wars, all of that—will go away. And what will be left? The same love that my friend had when she saw her baby for the first time. All the bad things will pass away, but God will create—give birth to, in a sense—a new creation, where nothing bad can happen anymore. Where we will all live together in harmony, where there will be no wars, no sickness, no earthquakes. No fear, no hopelessness. Where all will be well.
Let us pray: Blessed are you, O Lord our God, king of the universe, your sovereign purpose brings salvation to birth. Give us faith to be steadfast amid the tumults of this world, trusting that your kingdom comes and your will is done through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.
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