Body

Jeremiah 33. 14 – 16

Luke 21. 25 – 36

On first hearing, our Gospel passage this morning seems a bit disconcerting, doesn’t it.  “Distress among the nations…”  “People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.”  Worrying stuff.

It’s continuing a theme that’s been running over the last few weeks.  On Remembrance Sunday we heard of “wars, earthquakes, famines,” “nation rising against nation.”

Even last week, on the celebration of Christ the King, we heard of our king on trial: questioned by Pilate before being handed over to suffering and death.

We’re being brought face to face with one of the key themes of the Advent season: judgement. 

For those of us who live safe, contented and upstanding lives, I think the theme of divine judgement is rather a difficult one for us to face.  If we ever happen to come up in front of a judge, it will probably mean that something’s gone wrong. 

Even if we’re just the one giving evidence, something sufficiently bad may have happened to us, or to people we know, to get us to that place.

But as we know, the message of the Gospel is not necessarily focussed on people who lead safe, contented and upstanding lives.  Jesus goes time and again out of his way to come close to those who suffer; the outcast, the downtrodden.

If we think about divine judgement from their point of view, the whole aspect changes.  If you’re someone who’s been exploited, abused, oppressed, persecuted – all your life – then you dream of coming up before a judge; being offered that justice you’ve been denied.

I think of the asylum seekers I worked with in my last parish – some of them waiting years in legal limbo to have their case heard before a judge.  The great joy when finally the system cranks into gear, and they can tell their story; and receive justice.

Look at the justice of divine judgement from their point of view, and it isn’t something disconcerting, or unsettling – it’s something to be longed for.  Our hymns and our readings throughout this season give voice to this sense of longing.

And this is where our first reading from Jeremiah is the key to understanding this series of Gospel readings – and indeed this whole theme of Advent judgement.

It was so short, and to the point, it’s worth reading it again.

“The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfil the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah.  In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.  In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety.  And this is the name by which it will be called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness.’”

The Lord promises… justice… righteousness… and safety.

This judgement is obviously the best possible news for those in the greatest need.  But what does it mean for us?  We all have our share of concerns and anxieties for ourselves and our loved ones (especially in another uncertain winter in pandemic); and those quite rightly cause us anxiety and distress.  They are not to be taken lightly.

But it’s fair to say that, for the most part, we aren’t the downtrodden, exploited, or the outcast.  So what does divine judgement mean for us?

Well, first of all, we should take the disconcerting nature of this Gospel seriously, and consider what that judgement might look like for ourselves.  Because we will be called to account for the way we live our lives, and interact with the lives of others. 

If we feel unsettled, then the Gospel message is doing its work.  It exists to unsettle and disturb the unjust systems our societies have created.  Advent gives voice to the cry of creation in a fallen world.

But we can also join in that longing for the judgement too.  Look at what Jesus says at the end of our Gospel reading. 

He tells us not to let ourselves be weighed down with the worries of life.  He warns us about all the dissipation and metaphorical drunkenness that the things of this world can bring upon us.

He is warning us, certainly; but I believe he is also exhorting us to happiness – to joy.  He desires us to experience the joy of the fullness of life for which we were created; freedom from the anxieties of life.  That is something which we can long for.

Along with judgement, joy is another Advent theme that we explore richly in this season.  You’ll hear one or two mentions of it in the liturgical texts this morning.  I wonder if you associate Advent with the feeling of joy?

The third Sunday of Advent will smack us round the face with it.  It’s effectively called ‘Joy Sunday’ – ‘Gaudete’ – ‘rejoice!’  Our music and readings will change to reflect something of this; and I will leave behind the purple vestments for a week, and wear something very fetching in pink.

And so we enter into Advent with this juxtaposition of judgement with joy.  And I think this is something that we can meditate on this season.  Don’t let your hearts be weighed down with the worries of life and the things of this world, says Christ.  So reflect on those parts of life that are weighing you down.  Be honest with God.

This process of judging our own lives can open the way for us to enter into that joy.  Because Christ will come, not to bring judgement with punishment; but judgement with justice; and judgement with joy.

He was sent into the world not to condemn the world, but that the world would be saved through him.

So what’s stopping us from entering into that joy?  What can we do about it?  How can we share our joy with those around us?  These are good questions to ponder this season, as we await the coming of Christ: the bringer of justice and joy to the world.  Amen.