Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 7, 2022 – Wisdom 18:6-9; Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19; Luke 12:32-48
I saw a cartoon recently. The picture is of Noah’s Ark drifting off from the shore. And all the animals on the ark are looking back toward the shore with distressed looks upon their faces. They’re looking at two dinosaurs who are left on the shore. And one dinosaur is saying to the other, “Oh rats! Was that today?” (They didn’t actually say, “Oh, rats,” but that’s the only word I can use here in church.)
We all know what the scientists say about how the first dinosaurs were destroyed. A huge meteor struck the earth and destroyed them. But it didn’t destroy all living things. By a process of evolution, a whole new type of living beings emerged after that destruction. But the cartoon is based on the popular belief that the world will be destroyed by fire. There was a very important book that came out in the 1950s by James Baldwin called “The Fire Next Time.” It was basically two long letters that he wrote about the legacy of slavery and segregation, and the challenges of integration at his moment in time. But the title he chose came from an old gospel hymn – a black gospel hymn – called “Oh Mary, Don’t You Weep. Don’t You Moan.” And, in the gospel song, the singer contrasts the flood that killed Pharaoh’s army and saved the Israelites with - not another flood, ‘cause God promised, after the Noah’s Ark thing, He’d never destroy the world by water again - but the next time, by fire.
But there is very little, if any, biblical evidence that anybody ever said that God will destroy the world by fire. And yet, what the scientists say about the real end of life on this planet is that a billion years from now – so not to worry – about a billion years from now we will run out of oxygen, and that will kill all living things. They also say that we are on a bad track with our lack of concern with the change in climate. Now there are extremes on either end of that discussion, but we need to recognize that things are getting a little bit worse than they were before. That doesn’t mean that life will end, but simply that, in some cases, for some species, life will be more challenging in years to come. There’s also one or two different things we can do to hasten our own destruction, one of them being a nuclear Armageddon.
It’s interesting that there are currently two streaming shows that both have the title, “The fire Next Time.” And each one is about a dystopian future after a nuclear holocaust, when people are scratching out a living from the little bit of life that’s left on Earth.
So, will God destroy the world by fire, since that’s what so many people believe? There’s only one place in the entire New Testament where it says that. In Peter’s 2nd letter, in Chapter 3. But you have to understand why it might say that. The letters of Peter were probably not written by Peter. They were written after Peter died. The custom, in ancient times, was, if you had something important to say, you titled your work, giving it the name of somebody that everybody else already respected. So this is a disciple, perhaps converted by Peter in Rome sometime in the late 50s or early 60s, who is writing when? After a terrible fire in Rome. In the late 60s, in Rome, Nero wanted to do some urban rehabilitation. And so he set his sights on the slave quarter in Rome, they call it the Travertine. Who’s living there? The slaves. And it was mostly among the slaves that Paul and Peter were making converts. And so, he conspired to have someone set fire to that area of the city, to burn it down, and then, to deflect blame from himself, he publicly blamed the Christians for starting the fire. Which gave him the excuse to start a persecution against them, during which persecution Peter and Paul were executed. The person writing this letter remembers with great bitterness and sorrow, the fire that killed so many people that he loved, including his beloved leader, Peter, the first pope. And so he writes a story in which he sees that the future brings salvation to the few who believe. Everything else gets destroyed by fire.
That’s called apocalyptic. And there’s another apocalyptic about another great fire. It was the burning of Jerusalem. The troops of Tiberius surrounded Jerusalem in 68 A.D. The city held out for two years and, finally, the troops breached the walls, set fire to the entire city, and tore the temple down stone by stone. And both Jews and Jewish Christians fled for their lives. Shortly after that tragedy, an unknown Christian wrote a book, – the book from which our second reading came this morning – the book of Hebrews. And, what the book of Hebrews says to Jewish Christians is, “Do not be distressed at the loss of the temple, because Jesus is the great high priest. Jesus himself is the ultimate eternal offering. And Jesus is the new temple. So you do not need to go back to the old temple anymore.” But, in the process of telling that story to Jewish Christians, he goes back and rehearses all of Jewish history, very briefly. And the passage we had today talks about Abraham. That’s why I said to you, “Pay attention to the two things that have no answer in today’s scriptures.”
The first thing is what the writer of the book of Hebrews said about Abraham. He said, “Abraham went forth, not knowing where he was to go, but placed his trust in God.” He went forth from the place he knew well, the comfort of familiar surroundings and a familiar way of life, not knowing where he would wind up and what it would be like, but trusting that God would do good for him.
The other thing that’s not answered is in today’s gospel. Jesus tells this story about the serving staff at home waiting for the master to come back from a wedding. If you go to a wedding, it depends on how much you’re drinking when you get home. So, they don’t know when he’s coming, and they have to be prepared. So that’s the other unknown thing, is, when the master will come back. That’s the way in which the writer of the book of Luke cast the end of the world. The second coming of Jesus. The problem was that Jesus didn’t come. St. Paul thought He was coming in his own time. And, fifteen years later, Mark though He was coming right away and the world was going to end. And then Luke thought the same thing and Matthew thought the same thing. By the time John wrote his gospel, it became evident to the Christians that Jesus was not coming back any time soon. They had entirely misunderstood Jesus’ message.
And so, the work of the book of Hebrews, and the work of Luke’s gospel, and the work of John get the Christians ready for an ongoing, unknown future. And the beauty of both our second reading and our gospel, is they say – if you really notice very carefully – that the master keeps coming back, over and over and over again. Jesus comes back where? In Eucharist. Every seventh day, Jesus comes back. Jesus, the perfect sacrifice. Jesus, the perfect priest, keeps coming back and bringing good with Him. Notice how today’s parable ends. He says, “When the master comes back, what does he do?” He’s so pleased with his servants that he sets them down at the table and, instead of making them wait on him, he waits on them, and serves them a fine feast.
And that’s the message of today’s gospel. That we do two things in life. When we are young, we start out on a journey, knowing not where we’re going. But our faith in Jesus, who gives us faith in His Father, allows us to trust that, wherever it is we’re going, and wherever we’re going to wind up, it’ll be okay. That’s mostly a young person’s issue, and a middle-aged person’s issue, but you know, about 30 years ago in my priesthood, I prepared two people in their 80s to get married. So sometimes there’s a new beginning, and a new place to land, far off in the future. For most of us though, we’re at the other end of the story, waiting for the master’s return, aren’t we? That’s what happens. But, no matter where we are in our journey, the Master keeps coming back every week. He is here when we want to come and be with Him. And He serves us a wonderful feast.
In the 1970s, there was a very beautiful love song – but a very severe love song – by a group called Bread. And the end of it went like this,
“And when the world starts spinning slowly down to die, And when the end is near, I’ll spend the end with you. And when the world is through, Then, one by one, the stars will all go out, And you and I will simply fly away.”
Suppose you made that a prayer to the God who love you and wants you to love Him back.