Looking Forward
Destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by Francesco Hayez. Oil on canvas, 1867. Gallerie dell’Accademia, Venice, Italy. Public Domain, click on the image to link to source.
We live in an anxious and fearful age, the feeling of which I can describe no better than by sharing an item from this week’s news. A woman in Palm City, Florida, felt that something wasn’t right about her car, opened the hood, and discovered a python snake wrapping itself around her engine. A call was made to police, and an animal-conservation officer recruited to safely remove the snake.[1]
Can you imagine? One social-media commentator said that if it were his car, then he would have given the title to the snake, and run away. The story reminds me of an experience with the church I served in Wichita during the early 1990s. Each spring, I led a father-son retreat during Memorial Day weekend. One year we stayed at a small lodge on the Kansas prairie near Junction City. On one side of the camp there was a swampy area leading down to a small river. During breaks from organized activity, the boys searched for swamp creatures.
Down in the swamp, some boys caught turtles and frogs, but a boy named Cy outdid them all by netting a black snake, good-sized but non-poisonous. The other boys were in awe. Cy convinced his dad to let him take it home to Wichita for his herpetarium. The snake escaped its cardboard box, and disappeared into some crack or crevice of the family van. A door panel was taken off. Part of the dashboard was removed. But the snake eluded capture.
Back home, Cy’s mother heard about the snake. The van remained parked in the garage because she refused to drive it. Cy, the daring adventurer, was surprised by his mother’s attitude. “Mom,” he said, “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Don’t you know that this snake won’t hurt you?” “I know, Cy,” his mother replied. “But if I’m driving in traffic, and your snake comes out of the dashboard, I’ll be so scared that I’ll hurt myself.”
In this close-knit family that shared so many things in common, there were two very different responses to one experience. To Cy, a snake was a beautiful, fascinating creature that presented an opportunity for learning. To his mother, meeting a snake, even one considered benign, posed a danger. The perception of danger was more powerful than the reality: she knew that the snake might scare her so much that she would hurt herself.[2]
The power of fear is addressed by Jesus in today’s gospel text, in which Luke records the final words of Jesus’ public ministry. In context, after these last days of teaching in the temple, Jesus will turn his attention to his inner circle of disciples. Scholars call Jesus’ final public teaching “apocalyptic discourse,” meaning that in it Jesus talks about the end times, looking forward to the future that God is beginning to reveal.
If it were up to us, this is not a vision of the future that we would choose to offer. It is a future in which terrible things seem poised to happen. It’s a future in which there seems plenty of reason to be anxious and afraid. Yet Jesus says, “do not be terrified . . . . not a hair on your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.”
Jesus seems to be addressing several circumstances his disciples are called to endure. He says “not a hair of your head will perish,” which doesn’t mean, I think, that disciples are exempt from physical suffering. Jesus knows enough about the state of the world that he has foreseen his fate, and could easily predict violence against his disciples.
It seems to me that Jesus is saying that in these end times, as the old order gives way to the new age of God’s kingdom, you’re going to meet a few snakes along the way. The snakes may look particularly menacing. But in and of themselves, the snakes’ venom cannot destroy God’s children. Be careful that you don’t allow fear to make the snakes more powerful than they really are. Don’t let the snakes scare you so badly that you hurt yourself by capitulating to fear, forsaking your faith, emptying your soul of character and purpose
This is an important message for Christians in the midst of our tense and troubled political environment. Whether you lean Republican, Democrat, or independent, many voices encourage you to look at each day’s news cycle as a contest in which there can be only one winner, each contest interpreted as the final battle between good and evil. In an age when traditional conventions about civil discourse have faded away, it’s natural to be especially disturbed by the coarseness of debate, to be fearful of where all the expressions of anger, hostility, and rage has taken us, and will continue to lead us
If you’re a ruling elder, or a minister member of presbytery like Joy Myers, John Higgins, and me, then you may be troubled by votes in the realm of our regional Presbyterian church. The actions taken eight days ago at our regional assembly to suddenly and dramatically terminate the employment of our presbytery leader means that the revolving door of presbytery personnel continues to spin in a rather disorderly way. Other issues and actions are symptomatic of a regional church losing more members and more per capita dollars to fund mission. If you care about our interconnectness with the regional presbytery, and wonder about what it means for the future, then it may feel as if a venomous serpent threatens.
Our smaller, busier membership, and our increasing challenge to fill positions of traditional leadership on our governing-board session and board of deacons, can fill us with anxiety for the future of this congregation.
Jesus’ words tell me that the future is in God’s hands. They challenge me to move forward in faith rather than retreat in doubt, to live in hope rather than despair. It’s not a smooth and level path; there are peaks and valleys. I’m called to follow Jesus, one step at a time, and believe that God cares more about us, than any of us do about God; that the Church, as the community of God’s people, will live on.
About our text, United Methodist pastor Steve Garnaas-Holmes once write a blog post what he saw as a key takeaway, saying, “When the temple falls we become the resurrection. We let ourselves be raised, let ourselves be changed. Don't look to the temple (or other centers of political intrique). Power structures will not save us, but God will. God pours love directly into our hearts. Live that love.”[3]
Looking forward, the promise of the gospel is that the future is in God’s hands. On the way there, you’re going to encounter a few snakes, and, depending on your perspective, the snakes may be fascinating or fearful. So be careful that you don’t allow fear to make them more powerful than they really are. Don’t let snakes scare you so badly that you hurt yourself. By your endurance, you will gain your souls.
NOTES
[1] https://www.miamiherald.com/news/state/florida/article312804091.html
[2] A similar story is shared by Joanna M. Adams, “Faith and Fear,” appearing in Pulpit Resource, 15 Nov. 1998, p. 28.
[3] Steven Garness-Holmes, “Unfolding Light,” http://unfoldinglight.net, accessed 9 Nov. 2016.
READ MORE, https://www.fpcedw.org/pastors-blog
