On the evening before Thanksgiving, our family gathered at the home of our daughter, Jody. Not everyone could make it. One of our daughters is in Baja. One of our sons had an exceptionally long day at work. But all of our grandchildren made it, even if for just a little while. A highlight of the evening, other than the nourishing soup and great dessert, was the family storytelling around a bonfire. I am always interested in hearing stories told from different perspectives. The same tale told by the oldest child is quite different than what the younger ones remember or what they may have heard since they might not have been present yet. Often stories are told that I do not remember at all. Perhaps because the event was hidden from me at the time, or perhaps because it was not as profound to me as the mom as it was to my children. Such family storytelling events always provide new perspectives on the life we have lived together. They also help us to understand the present a little better. Why are things the way they are? Is that why someone is so sensitive or someone else has developed such different taste? Shared stories bring us closer together.
In the church, we have moved from Mark’s story of Jesus to Luke’s story. The same story, but told a little differently. Just as family stories are told from different perspectives, so too, our sacred stories. Luke describes Jesus most often as Savior. In the words of Fr. Jose Pagola, “Jesus is the today of salvation. God always offers salvation in Jesus today, now.” Thus, Jesus continues to be Good News for people today, not just for disciples of the past. “We are always being offered salvation in Jesus, who was raised by God.” (Jesus: An Historical Approximation, Convivium Press. 2015. Page 424).
Fr. Pagola says that “this salvation is the fruit of God’s mercy. Luke describes Jesus as the incarnation of God’s mercy.” (ibid.) But if people in the post-modern world are to recognize Jesus as the incarnation of God’s mercy, and to find salvation in the life of Jesus today, then the story must be retold in a way that captures the minds and hearts of people living in the 21st century. Jesus is not the fluff of Christmas Carols or Christmas Cards or ornately designed Nativity Scenes. Jesus is a pathway through the difficult and the mysterious gift of life.
To begin the year of Luke the church offers us a reading from the 21st chapter of Luke, 21:25-28, 34-36. The verses echo the end time verses we heard from Mark just a couple of weeks ago. The parable of the fig tree found in verses 29-33, is left out. These verses are important, so I will include them here, as I will return to them.
“Then Jesus told them a parable. ‘Notice the fig tree, or any other tree. You observe them when they are budding and know for yourselves that the summer is near. Likewise, when you see all the things happening of which I speak, know that the reign of God is near. Let me tell you this: the present generation will not pass away until all this takes place. The heavens and the earth will pass away but my words will not pass.’”
On Friday morning people awoke to the news of a new covid-19 variant, one that is ‘of interest’ causing ‘concern’ among scientists and medical personnel. Discovered in South Africa where it has very quickly become the dominant strain, and already found in Europe, it has raised alarms all over the world. In response to this new concerning variant the stock market took its largest tumble since February. Early concerns are that the variant, named Omicron by the World Health Organization, will not be susceptible to the vaccines that we have so recently received. Already South Africans have been banned from entering several countries, including the US, beginning on Monday. Some countries, including Great Britain and Israel have reinstituted face mask mandates. Fear is everywhere. Eventually, we will hear more dire predictions along with increased accusations and finger pointing. How can we cope with yet another lock down, yet another season of fear, of loss, and disruption? It feels a bit like the end, again, of everything we are striving for: a return to the way things were before the pandemic, for the normal life we had grown used to. Will this be the end?
The answer, once again, is no. Not if we have to ask. Remember the fig tree? When we see the trees budding, we know that summer is near. We do not have to ask. We know ourselves. In the same way, when there are tragedies, natural disasters, pandemics, and storms, they are just that: tragedies, natural disasters, pandemics, and storms. If what we are witnessing is the end of the world, you will ‘know for yourselves.’ We can therefore, let go of collective fear mongering and make practical decisions about how to move forward into the new year.
We need to remember the lessons of the pandemic we have lived through so far. We know that those who are poor, people of color, and newcomers to our country suffered more than the wealthier, mostly white, citizens who were able to isolate themselves and their children from the threat of exposure to the virus. We have seen the weaknesses in an economy that leans heavily on low-wage workers, disregarding their health so that the affluent can have what they need. We have experienced the breakdown of a global supply system that relies on low-wage workers around the world. We are aware that the ultra-rich accumulated even more wealth as the pandemic raged and thousands of ordinary people lost their homes, their jobs, or their lives. We had firsthand experience with the ravages of climate change as temperatures soared and smoke filled the air. We are smart enough to know that all of these disasters are connected, propelled by a greed that can never be satisfied. They do not portend the end. They demand our attention. They require recommitting our lives to the God of justice and mercy.
It is a dark time of year, here in the northern hemisphere, so dark stories are likely to be told. Yet, it is for Christians, the Season of Advent, a season of hope and anticipation for the coming of the Light of the World, whom we name, Jesus. Those who proclaim Jesus as Lord, are people of hope called to spread the light of faith, hope and mercy into the dark spaces of fear, anger, and desolation. And so, we take out our Advent Wreaths and gather greens and candles and twinkling lights, and make a place in our homes, as well as our hearts, to remember the story: the light, the promise, and the hope of God’s Reign breaking into our world. It is a promise of salvation from the darkness and hopelessness of a world where money and commodities are more important than people. It is a promise made for people of the past, for those who walked and talked with Jesus as he went from place to place. And it is at the same time a promise made for us today. “Jesus is the today of salvation. God always offers salvation in Jesus today, now.”
Today, and throughout the next four weeks until Christmas Day, let your lights shine. We are all called to be awake to new possibilities in a timeless story. Let hope and mercy be on your lips, for we are renewing our sacred story once again. We are awaiting the Incarnation of God’s Mercy.