There isn’t one of us who hasn’t been betrayed sometime. If not by an individual then by the circumstances of a situation. Betrayal brings loss. It shakes the underpinnings of a relationship or the security of long-held ideas. We fear loss more than anything else. When we lose surety and certainty we lose innocence. We no longer have the sense that everything will be all right.
That’s why change is so hard. We seem to be wired to react emotionally to a loss, however small, as if the whole world were caving in, even though the objective reality is that much remains unchanged and some of the change is improvement. What has been solid foundation turns into quicksand. Foundational beliefs twist and bend like limp linguini. It is as if God is no longer in the heavens and hence nothing is right with the world.
The Irish poet William Butler Yeats expressed that this way in his poem, “The Second Coming”:
“Turning and turning in the widening gyreThat’s where the disciples were that afternoon as they were leaving Jerusalem. The vortex of dissonant despair was widening at an alarming rate. Jesus had kept telling them that this was to be his last visit to Jerusalem, that his immanent death would be necessary, ignominious, and ennobling. No matter how many times he told them, they couldn’t grasp the gravity, intensity, and divine purpose of it all.
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned.”(1)
And now he told them that the Temple itself would one day be destroyed. The Temple was the architectural wonder of the city. It was made with massive stones and sat on the highest promontory where it could seen from any direction. The Temple was the pride and joy of the people, the symbol of their identity, and the source of their cultural strength. It was their all in all.
First Jesus and his powerful message, then the Temple. What was going to become of their world? What was going to become of them?
We think that things are permanent. We look at ancient architectural wonders like Stonehenge, the pyramids, Peru’s Macchu Picchu, Cambodia’s Angkor Wat, and at abbeys and cathedrals which have stood for centuries. Things are supposed to last. And most of us have been well-trained to use things until they can’t be used any more.
Yet the notion of lasting is sometimes our downfall. Things used beyond their life expectancy or viability can be a liability not an asset. Things need to be replaced. For example, all along Route 23 in Circleville, a major power line is being replaced. Who knows how old the cables are and how long some of the old utility poles have been there. Some old poles are as bent with age as we are. Our power grid is technologically ancient.
We can’t keep up with replacing bridges that are tired and overused. Some of our cities are underlaid with water pipes that are more than a century old.
We don’t think about those things until something goes wrong: a transformer blows up, a gas line explodes, a bridge collapses, a dam breaks. And then we are shaken. Those things aren’t supposed to happen.
Every tragedy, whether it is an infrastructure failure through material fatigue or whether it is the result of human negligence or malevolence, brings forth a rise in indignation and a call for reform. Too often the hue and cry is hot and short. Anger and frustration are quickly vented and very little changes. All the mass shootings in schools and public places have changed few opinions about the right to be armed to the teeth. As a nation we spend billions of dollars on equipping military personnel and feel resentful when veterans demand quality medical services in their post-service life. Righteous anger calls for change now and then moves on to some other topic while little happens.
We are left wondering: Why bother? If no one cares, why should we? As we disconnect with the reality of the present, we enter a future fantasy land. Everything will be all right, by and by. Instead of working now to do something, we let everything slide, or as the current vernacular puts it, we kick the can down the road. If God is going to fix everything, that’s God’s problem and God’s schedule.
Yet we can’t help wanting it to happen soon. We become gullible about quick fixes. There must be a program that will work, some kit of ideas that we can put together that will end poverty, stop the warfare, fill the churches, lower taxes, improve the services, educate the youth, make medicine easier, save our physical, emotional, spiritual lives.
Circus man P. T. Barnum also ran a museum, something on the order of Ripley’s “Believe It or Not.” The story is told that because the crowds lingered at the displays, Barnum placed signs along the way saying, “This way to the Egress.” People thought that it was another fanciful display. They went through the door labeled “Egress” and found that they had exited the museum. No wonder a sucker was born every minute.
We are always looking for the next and better thing. There’s a science for that; it’s called marketing. Jesus knew about that. He warned the disciples that many people would come in his name and that they would deceive many people. It’s that quick fix syndrome. “Kiss it and make it better,” we asked our mothers. Only the problems of the world can’t be kiss-fixed. We saw that again on Friday in the horrendous attacks in Paris. The ills of the world cannot be fixed with bombs or mass shootings. The results of a mass bombing cannot be fixed with a bigger bomb or with denial.
There are no easy ways. As Jesus told the disciples on another occasion, “Go in through the narrow gate. The gate that leads to destruction is broad and the road wide, so many people enter through it. But the gate that leads to life is narrow and the road difficult, so few people find it” (Matthew 7:13-14).
Jesus prepared his disciples for the difficult years ahead. He warned them about false messiahs, natural disasters, and persecutions. But he also assured them that he would be with them to protect them and make his kingdom known through them. Jesus promised that, in the end, he would return in power and glory to save them. Jesus' warnings and promises to his disciples also apply to us as we look forward to his return: We must be ready; we must continue to proclaim the gospel; we must endure great trials; we must wait patiently.(2)
Jesus warned his followers about the future so that they could learn how to live in the present. Jesus did not make these predictions so that we would guess when they might be fulfilled, but to help us remain spiritually alert and prepared at all times as we wait for his return. We must live each day close to Christ, always mindful that God is in charge of the timetable.(3)
Our focus must not be on the signs. We must focus on the one who is to come—the one who enables us to look up after horrific devastation and claim the sure and certain hope that God is redeeming the world, even if we don’t know when. A saying that has been making the rounds for a while now is this: “Everything will be okay in the end. If everything is not okay, it is not yet the end.” That is our faith statement. The end is in God’s control.
Lamar Williamson in his commentary on Mark notes that each of the gospel writers leaves the church with a challenge. John calls the church to love one another. Matthew and Luke call the church to engage in mission to the Gentiles, to those who are “other.” As daunting as those challenges are, you and I, along with every other North American Christian steeped in the religion of instant gratification, are challenged by Mark: “Beware, . . . keep awake,” watch, resist, hold out for the coming of Son of Man.(4) God knows when the best time will be. We have to wait for it.
(1) The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats, revised second edition, ed. Richard J. Finneran (New York: Scribner Paperback Poetry, 1996), 200.
(2) Life Application Bible Commentary, "Mark" (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2001), 369.
(3) Ibid., 373.
(4) Lamar Williamson Jr., Mark, Interpretation Series (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1983), 238.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2015 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
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