We are Waiting and We are Hoping

Photo of The Rev. Michael Johnston by The Rev. Dr. Michael Johnston, Scholar-in-Residence

Several years ago, I attended a small conference at the College of Preachers in Washington on Theology and the Arts. The high-point of the conference was a visit to Wesley Seminary. Wesley is a Methodist Seminary that has an arts program thoroughly integrated into its theological curriculum. Bible scholars teach courses with art historians; liturgists teach with dramatists and fabrics designers. Painters and musicians teach with theologians. It is a remarkable program where future parish ministers are designing stained glass, and artists-in-residence are designing rotating murals for the chapel, the corridors, and the classrooms.

But maybe the real highpoint of that visit was to see a piece called Prophet with Angels hanging in a seminary gallery. It is a massive work, done in four panels, covering an entire wall. In fact, it is a multimedia work in three dimensions: the body of the prophet is coming right off the canvass and out into the room. His hair looks like the snakes of Medusa, about to bite you; he’s dressed in John-the-Baptist rags; and his human face looks like that of a lion personified, ready to roar. His countenance reveals someone with something awesomely fearful to say. The truth is, he actually looks somewhat frightening -- and a little frightened himself.

As the title of the work indicates, he is a generic prophet. Thus, he could be Isaiah this Advent; or Zechariah next; or Zephaniah the year after that. And this set me to pondering the life of the prophet in the life of the believing community.

Consider first the biblical literature for the season. It occurs to me that the texts we have for much of Advent are largely devoted to a focus on the future. They are less about nativity and more about the arrival of God at the end of time. They’re about Second Comings, not First. And accordingly the biblical language of the texts is apocalyptic. In fact, the Gospel for this morning comes from Mark 13, generally known as his Little Apocalypse. And it is full of apocalyptic prediction:

But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with power and glory.

Given texts of this sort, we rightly think of apocalyptic literature as speaking only about the dire promise of a catastrophic End-—the in- breaking of God’s righteous Judgment at the conclusion of history--full of Isaiah’s shaking mountains and trembling nations. But apokaloupto means to reveal, to lay bare, to expose what is true. So in this sense, apocalyptic is also a literary device used to encourage truth—telling about current realities. And that can give us some rather harsh assessments of the present, like the verses from Isaiah this morning:

“But you are angry, and we have sinned; we have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.”

And that also, I think, is why our generic prophet looks so anxious, because the prophet is the truth-teller-in-community. And truth telling is a dangerous business.

Consider Paul, for example, telling the Corinthians that they are not lacking in any spiritual gift as they “wait for the revealing of the Lord.” Well, I can tell you that when Paul arrived in Corinth revealing the truth that Jesus is Lord, and Caesar ain’t, he and his Corinthian buddies were in very big trouble with the Imperial State. /p>

Then consider again today’s Gospel. Most scholars agree that it was written against the backdrop of the Jewish Roman War that began in 68 of the Common Era and ended with the siege of Masada in 73. Twice during that period the Romans attempted to take Jerusalem. And twice their efforts were thwarted: first by Galilean guerillas who held the fortified city and second by events in Italy. Nero had been assassinated, and Vespasian, the Roman general in Palestine, was elected emperor by his troops and called to Rome to reign. Twice Yahweh had intervened! Twice the Holy City had been spared. This was clearly the beginning of the Messianic Age. God was surely about to restore the Glory of Israel, and all true Jews should rally around the cause.

BBut, against these claims of grandiosity, Mark’s Jesus offers a truth- telling -- an apocalyptic -- corrective:

“Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. No one knows it, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”

Jesus understands that political rhetoric and social discourse tend to mask, rather than reveal, the truth. So he issues a “wake-up call” to his drowsy listeners, who have eyes that cannot see and ears that cannot hear:
“Be aware! Listen up! Kicking Roman butt is not going to bring in the Kingdom.” /p>

MMark’s Jesus in chapter 13 also warns against the verbiage of those who call us to the wrong allegiances:

“And then if any one says to you, ‘Look, here is the Christ!’ Or ‘Look, there he is!’ do not believe it.
False christs and false prophets will arise and show signs and wonders, to lead astray, if possible, even the eject.”

Placed in context, these allusions are almost surely to the Jewish leaders who were, in some cases, successfully leading small insurrections against Roman military occupation -- a John of Ghiscala, a Simon bar Gora, to name but two known from the historical record.

So imagine the consequences for the true prophet -- like Isaiah, zechariah, Zephaniah. . . or Paul or Jesus --who calls into question the leadership of those who are waging war against an agreed-upon enemy. “Traitor or treason” are words that comes to mind. No wonder our Prophet with Angels looks more than a trifle fearful.

It occurs to me that we are living in a time that is badly in need of truth telling-in-community. Is the ozone hole really getting bigger? Whom do we credit, the scientists or the politicians? Is the destruction of the rain forests really having little effect on global warming? Do we really believe massive bail—outs will stimulate the economy? Is the European community really on the verge of collapse? Did the death of Osama bin Laden actually destabilize the forces of Al Qaeda? Will the Arab Spring ultimately serve to create a new political reality in the Middle East? Will the enormously popular Occupy Movement ultimately serve to create a new economic reality here at home? /p>

It is not an easy thing, of course, to align yourself with apocalyptic questioning. It is not an easy thing to call a spade a spade, as our generic prophet is meant to do. But we in the Christian communities are uniquely positioned to do so. We are uniquely positioned because we have in Jesus an example of how to do it.

He was and is the first and final teller of truth, the one who always asked the questions that laid bare the realities of his day and ours. “Do you see anything yet?” he asked the blind man at Bethsaida. “Have you never read” these texts, he asked the Pharisees? He was, blessed be Him, the ultimate interrogator.

IIn the Latin culture of Central America, Advent is referred to as the season of esperanza, which means both hoping and waiting. Esperamos means we wait. Esperamos means we hope. This is the time when we as a people say to God, “Okay, God; it’s your move. We are waiting and we are hoping.” For my part this year, I am waiting and hoping for the Advent of the Truth-Teller.