Risking vulnerability

But Matthew's portrait of justice shakes up our presumed categories by suggesting that we might be counted among Ezekiel's -fat and the strong." The acts Jesus describes stem from a sense of the world informed by God's ordering of the universe, which cannot be entered into without relinquishing everything that keeps us fat and strong in our self-sufficiency. It would be easier for us if the moment of reckoning came just once, at the hour of our death, or at that final judgment. Then we could live life as if we still had time to indulge our love of self-to nurse our fears and store up a bit before we have to give it all away. But the "Son of Man" greets us every day of our lives, asking insistently that we give ourselves entirely over to him.

The Reign of God, and Christ the King, demands absolute allegiance. Jesus' words are no mere suggestion of charity, but a call to abdicate our love of strength so that we might embrace that which most terrifies and repulses us, including our own vulnerability and nakedness. What saves us from ourselves, and from despairing at how impossible a call this is, is the unshakeable truth that we cannot save ourselves, just as, when lost (and when aren't we getting lost?), we cannot find ourselves. The shepherd never ceases seeking and will rescue and draw us to himself Once there, he sends us out in his Spirit to feed, clothe, and befriend.

DECEMBER 1

The Pain of Creation

Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80:1-7,17-19; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-37

Jesus' harrowing picture of darkened skies and falling stars is a jarring start to Advent. In the preceding verses of Mark 13, Jesus, with unsettling resignation, warns of the unparalleled suffering that must come before the "Son of Man" comes to "gather his elect..from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven" (Mark 13:27).

We understandably resist Jesus' insistence that his coming means certain wars and rumors of wars. Given the way such apocalyptic words have been abused to over-interpret history and abdicate human agency, many of us avoid such texts altogether. But along with such resistance is our desire that the peaceable kingdom would come peaceably, winning over all opposing forces with winsome charm. But this betrays how deeply the forces of resistance lie and how firmly they intend to hold on to their power.

The apocalyptic sensibility present in this text possesses a deep conviction that God is working out salvation, regardless of how horrible and hopeless the present world might appear. Within the history of Israel, this theological stance emerged as a vital corrective to the tradition that emphasized that God acts in history. Kings and their parties readily abused this view, claiming God's blessing upon their decisions and propaganda, and leaving their people little, if any, theological room to criticize.

It is no accident that apocalyptic literature, and its reminder that God acts in trans-historical and supernatural ways, finds favor among people who are socially and politically under siege. The fierceness of beasts and the violence of the cosmic and natural disasters give language and image to how intensely terrible the world can be. Advent waiting is an invitation to solidarity with all that groans under the birth pangs of the new creation.