Mark 13:24-37
Presented November 27th, 2005, by J.D. Kline
The First Sunday of Advent
One of the lesser-known books of the Hebrew Scriptures is the book of Lamentations, a series of five poems of lament that emerge from a deep wound—from the experience of exile. It was a time, some six centuries before the birth of Jesus, when the city of Jerusalem was destroyed, the Temple left in ruins, and many of the people forced to move to a strange land—the land of Babylon. The poems found in the book of Lamentations were written from the perspective of those who were left behind amidst the destruction of Jerusalem—mostly the poor in the land.
Not only did the ravages of war leave a trail of illness, hunger and poverty, but the very symbols of faith that held life together for the people of Israel—these symbols were destroyed. It was as if all of the people’s spiritual underpinnings had collapsed, with the resulting sense for the people that God had apparently deserted them.
The first poem in Lamentation, chapter one, portrays Jerusalem as a widow “weeping bitterly in the night” (v. 2), convinced that all hope has been lost. The poems continue in this vein, one lament after another, when all of a sudden, in the middle of the third chapter, the poet reverses course, and those remarkable words on which we base the much-loved hymn, Great is thy Faithfulness—these words issue forth. After asserting that his soul is bereft of peace and all happiness is gone, the poet nevertheless cries out,
But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
God’s mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness (3:21-23).
Consider with me this intriguing juxtaposition of despair and hope, this peculiar combination of lamenting things as they are while hoping beyond hope for the coming of something new. Does that not capture much of the spirit of the Advent season, with its anticipation of a coming transformation of life, even when all appearances remain to the contrary? In her book May I Have This Dance? spiritual retreat leader Joyce Rupp suggests that “Advent is a season for exiles. It is a time of waiting, a time of yearning for light to dispel the darkness.”