In the last few months of this past year, I read three books of poetry of which I’m providing brief reviews. To those who enjoy poetry or to play with words, I recommend each collection. They’re all delightful and very different.
Holly Haworth, The Way The Moon, poems
(Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 2004), 71 pages.
Drawing on the 13th moon cycles a year (every 28 days), Haworth has written 13 poems, each in four parts representing the four stages of the moon. In each section, she explores the natural world around the Blue Ridge Mountains of Southern Virginia. Haworth captures not only the cycles of life, but also how fleeting it can be. She writes with a naturalist eye, capturing and recording sightings in nature. I enjoyed her collection and reread it, but my one criticism is that at times her poetry seemed more of a list without a perceivable narrative other than the changes of the moon’s phase.
Among the wildflowers which Haworth is enchanted with are chicory and Queen Anne’s Lace, two plants in which I have written a few poems about. (To read one of my poems titled “Chicory and Lace,” click here.) I read this book in late summer/early fall, as the last of the chicory appeared and the Queen Anne’s Lace was balling up tight, as stockings stored in a drawer for another year.
Wayne Caldwell, Woodsmoke, poems
(Durham, NC, Blair, 2021), 81 pages.
Caldwell employs two voices in these poems which are all set around Mt. Pisgah in Western North Carolina. The main voice is Posey, a widower who misses his late-wife, Birdie. Posey lives alone and shuns most things modern. He still heats his home with wood, has a mule name Maud and a dog named Tomcat. According to his poems, he has learned to slow down with age. He doesn’t go to church, but his poetry is filled with Biblical allusions. While he burns most trees in his woodstove, the one exception is dogwood, because of the myth that Jesus’ cross was a dogwood. Posey shares the history of the area as well as his family and his interest in his new neighbor, Susan McFall.
There are a few poems written by Susan McFall, whose husband had run off with a younger woman. She builds a house above Posey’s, where she explores nature and looks out for Posey.
These are wonderful poems whose narrative captures the heart of Southern Appalachia.
Christian Wiman, Hammer is the Prayer: Selected Poems
(New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2016), 207 pages.
I heard Wiman speak last years at Calvin University’s Festival of Faith and Writing. While I had heard of him before and had read a few of his poems in journals, I found myself wanting to read more of his work. Unlike the other two books of poetry above, which have a unifying theme, this collection of selected poetry is more complex. The pieces are drawn from several Wiman’s works. If there is a unifying theme, it would be around illness and death, as many of the poems deal with Wiman’s battle with cancer.
While many of these poems stand alone, some build upon each other. The longest poem, “Being Serious,” contains 20 parts and an epilogue, 35 pages, that captures the life of “Serious,” from his birth to death and to God. While this collection is not at all “preachy,” God is another theme that reoccurs frequently. In addition to his own poetry, there is a section of poetry by Osip Mandelstam which Wiman translated. Mandelstam was a Polish/Russian who died during Stalin’s purges in the late 1930s.
This is a deep collection of poetry that will be worthy to be read many times.
The article below was published in The Skinnie, a magazine for Skidaway Island, Georgia, for the November 17, 2017 (vol. 15, issue 23). The title the editor gave the article was “Plains Speaking.” With Jimmy Carter’s death on Sunday, I thought it time to pull it out and make it available again. Carter, who was appreciated more after his presidency than before will be missed. I was moved to see that even Buckingham Palace in London had lowered the Union Jack to half mast in honor of his life.
“I don’t often attend Baptist Churches but when I do, it’s under the cover of darkness,” I quip as we turn into the driveway of Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, Georgia. Everyone is quiet. It’s a little before 6 AM, on the first of October. The stars are still out. Yet, in the driveway is a man with a warm Southern accent welcoming us. He tells us where to park, that the church building will open at 8 AM, and that if we need to use the bathroom before then, there are some porta-johns in the back. He gives us an index card numbered 17. That’s our number when it is time to line up and enter church and it means there are 16 cars here before us.
Maranatha Baptist Church, Plains, GA
This is the earliest I’ve ever arrived at church, but Jimmy Carter’s Sunday School class starts at 10 AM and we don’t want to miss it. I park and we all fall asleep. An hour later, as dawn breaks, I wake to a Marine leading a dog sniffing all the cars in the parking lot. I’ve never had a vehicle sniffed for bombs while attending church. I doze off again.
By 7:30 AM, it is light enough to see. People are gathering in the front of the church. We join them. Cars still drive in. But the parking lot is full. Those who arrive now park in the overflow out back under a grove of pecans. A woman lines everyone up according to their number. At 8 AM, we’re ushered forward, one group at a time. They have us take everything out of our pockets while a secret service agent scans our bodies with a wand. Only then are we are allowed to enter the church. There’s more waiting.
As the sanctuary fills, a woman from the church welcomes us and informs us of the rules for a Sunday School class led by the former “Leader of the Free World.” We’re to refer to him as President Carter, not Mr. President (the latter is only appropriate for the current President). The woman reminds us the former First Lady’s name is Rosalynn, not Roselyn. We’re also reminded that while it is President Carter’s birthday, we’re not to sing happy birthday or make a big deal out of it. President Carter wants our focus to be on the lesson and not him. I had not known it was his birthday before arriving in Plains and didn’t think about bringing a card. Others had. The woman collects the cards. We’re told not to hand the Carters anything. However, she assures the Carters will receive the cards, but only after the Secret Service examines them. We’re told the Carters will be happy to allow us to have a photograph taken with them and are informed this will be conducted after the 11 AM worship service. If you skip worship, there will be no photographs.
A few minutes before 10 AM, a number of Secret Service agents enter the room and take up their positions. Then Rosalynn Carter enters with a group of friends and family members. I recognize Maureen Dowd, a columnist for The New York Times. They are all seated in a reserved section of pews. The room is nearly full.
A moment later Jimmy Carter enters with his ever present grin. He begins by asking where we’re from. There are people here from at least twenty states. He acknowledges each state. When someone says Washington, the former nuclear submariner informs us that it’s the home to the world’s finest submarine. He pauses a second for effect, then says, “the USS Jimmy Carter.” Another is from D.C. and Carter quickly quips, “I used to live there.” Everyone laughs.
When a woman identifies herself as Puerto Rican. Carter pauses to ask if she knows how her family and friends are doing after Hurricane Maria, which had struck the island ten days earlier. She sobs, saying her family is fine, but the island is devastated. President Carter acknowledges her pain and tells us to keep them in prayer and to help out anyway we can.
There are people in the sanctuary from at least twenty states and seven foreign countries: China, Korea, Germany, Peru, Canada, Russia and Cuba.
Next, President Carter asks a woman missionary to open us in prayer. After a few remarks about the state of the world, especially the danger posed by North Korea, Jimmy moves into his morning lesson. He first notes he’d been teaching on giving for the last four weeks. It troubled him that the collections were down. We all chuckle.
This morning, Carter begins a new series on the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Galatians and its theme of freedom.
“We are raised with the concept that you get what you earn,” Carter says, “but Christianity teaches that we are all saved, loved and forgiven in Jesus Christ. We only need to have faith.” Drawing from Jesus’ parables of the “Prodigal Son” and “Workers in the Vineyard,” he speaks of grace and notes how we’re all the same in God’s eye.
His Sunday School message avoids politics, and he never mentions the current President. But at one point, he lets his politics slip in as he emphasizes freedom in Christ, saying, “Jesus is the number one wall tear-downer.”
Carter insists that freedom doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want, but that freedom comes with responsibilities. He ends, inviting us to ask ourselves what kind of person we want to be. He suggests that if we are not satisfied with who we are, we should go to God in prayer and ask for help as we strive to be a better person.
At the end of his class, Carter says we have a real treat waiting in worship and introduces his favorite musician, pianist David Osborne. During the transition between Sunday School and worship, the former President takes a seat next to his wife in a pew that’s just across the aisle and a row up from me. Osborne sits down at the Steinway grand piano that had been brought into the sanctuary for this occasion, and plays a melody of tunes, beginning with, “Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God.” Later in the service, Osborne is joined by a Las Vegas singer, as they perform a selection of gospel hymns with “Happy Birthday” and “Georgia on My Mind” mixed in.
David Osborne signing CDs afterwards
The pastor, Brandon Patterson, is a young man just finishing up seminary. His sermon is from the book of Ruth and he mentions how Ruth observed the Jewish custom and sought the protection of Boaz, her deceased husband’s kinsman, instead of running off with a younger man. To make the point, he emphasizes Boaz’s age. Rosalynn puts her elbow into her husband side. After all, it’s his 93rd birthday. Carter laughs. The preacher notices and turns red and immediately attempts to crawl out of the hole he’s dug, saying that he didn’t mean that old. Everyone erupts into laughter.
When the service is over, a very efficient line is set up and each group is allowed to have their photo taken with Jimmy and Rosalynn. Afterwards, we leave Plains and drive back to Skidaway Island.
Billy Carter’s Gas Station
To be in place for President Carter’s Sunday School class, we had made a weekend of it. We spent our nights in Americus, Georgia as there are no major hotels in Plains. On Saturday, we explored Plains. The old school where Jimmy and Rosalynn attended high school is now a museum and visitors center. The depot, which was Carter’s campaign headquarters and served as a backdrop for many photos, is also a museum that focuses on the 1976 Presidential Campaign. It was chosen as a headquarters as it was the only available space in town with a functioning bathroom. Ironically, the bathroom is no longer open.
The park between Main Street and the railroad tracks is a butterfly garden named for Rosalynn. Across the tracks and highway is the gas station, which was owned by Carter’s brother, Billy. This station became a favorite hangout of reporters who listened to Billy tell stories while guzzling beer. Today, it’s a museum dedicated to Billy Carter. There are two peanut processing plants in town and on this first weekend of October, the smell of peanuts is in the air as tractors pulled wagons of nuts into these facilities. There are also a few shops in town, mostly selling Carter memorabilia, and the Buffalo Café, which is where we enjoyed lunch.
The homestead where Carter grew up.
After lunch, we drove a few miles west of Plains to the Carter’s homestead. This was where Jimmy grew up. Seventeen acres, which includes their home, farm buildings and barns, and a country store, are preserved by the National Park Service. Park service employees, some dressed as farm hands, described life on the farm in the 1930s.
Spring at Andersonville
After touring the homestead, we drove back through Americus, to Andersonville, the site of the Confederate Prisoner of War camp along with the National POW Museum. Today, Andersonville is mostly a large field circled by a drive. Only the bunkers in which Confederate cannons where placed remain from the Civil War era. The gateway and part of the wall around the entry into which Union POWs were marched have been rebuilt, but around the drive are a number of signs and monuments describing the horrific conditions of the prisoners. In the National POW Museum, the stories of those captured are told, with major exhibits on POWs in World War Two, Korea and Vietnam. The exhibits reminds us of the price many paid for our political freedom.
Plains is roughly 230 miles west of Skidaway Island, depending on which route one drives. Before making the trip, one should check with the Maranatha Baptist Church to make sure that President Carter is planning on being there. This December, President Carter is scheduled to teach Sunday School on the 10th, 17th and 24th.
Jeff Garrison is pastor of Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church
It’s been years since I have gotten a Christmas letter in the mail in time for Christmas. At least, this year, I’ll have it on line before the end of the Christmas season on January 6!
On Christmas Day, when I took the dogs out for the final time before bed, Cyrus the Swan, appeared to have planted the “northern cross” on the western horizon. The cross-like shape of the constellation reminds me of the truth of Christmas. Looking in the other direction, Orion rises on his side in the east. A bit higher in the sky is Taurus, the bull. On his forehead sits Jupiter, like a Bindi (the Hundi dot on the forehead), To the north along the are the Gemini twins with the red Mars on the same ecliptic, but closer to the horizon. My punched tin Moravian star burns over the front porch. The rest of the lights are off, as the strong winds a few days ago destroyed about half the strands which outlined the railing.
Laurel Fork was blessed with two wonderful Aurora Borealis shows this year, and I was at the beach for both (Kure Beach in Spring showing, which was cloudy, and on Hilton Head in October, where I could barely make it out). But I did see the comet several times his October, but it was best seen through binoculars. All seems to be in order in the heaven, but on earth, we’re like the stands of lights…
My father with a catch of flounder in the 1970s
I’m glad that 2024 will soon be behind us. That doesn’t mean exactly looking forward to what 2025 might. From the chaos of our world and country to personal griefs, this past year has been crazy. The biggest shock was the death of my father in May. I was in DeTour Michigan when he went in for surgery for a blockage in his intestines. Things looked good. They spoke of releasing him from the hospital. I planned to head to Wilmington to see him a few weeks after I got back, but then things went south.
I rushed to Wilmington as he was undergoing another surgery and arrived as the surgeon stopped in to talk with my siblings and me. Again, for a day, things looked good, but the bleeding started again. The medical staff felt he couldn’t endure another surgery. Dad understood what was happening and was ready to die. They moved him to hospice care, where he spent his final days. For a couple of days, he was alert and saw lots of friends. All his children and most of his grandchildren and great grandchildren were there. Donna and Caroline came down and we rented a house on Kure Beach. While it was a nice place, it wasn’t the beach vacation I desired.
Grief has come over me many times this year with not being able to pick up the phone and call Dad to share something with him. At the same time, I realize I am blessed to still have a father at 67 years of age. With him gone, I’m now the oldest. In addition, I lost several friends, parishioners, and former parishioners this year.
Yet, a lot of good stuff that happened in 2024. In January, I met up with Bill Cheek, and old roommate from my Hickory days, to paddle in the Okefenokee Swamp. After that paddling, I began to study and for the first time since high school, became a licensed amateur radio operator. My call is KQ4PVG, but I’m thinking of applying for a noviety call sign and getting back my old call. I have been mostly active on 40 and 2 meters and beginning to regain an ear for morse code (which is no longer required for licenses).
In April, on my way to the Festival of Faith and Writing, I aimed toward the path of the eclipse and caught my second total solar eclipse in Springfield, Ohio. The eclipse was amazing for a couple of minutes. I feel blessed to have experienced two eclipses in totality (2017 and 2024). I’d never heard of Springfield, Ohio, but found it a pleasant town. Sadly, before the year was out, the town became well-known for rumors spread by a certain vice presidential candidate that illegal immigrants there enjoyed snacking on their neighbors’ pets. It turned out to be a lie, but truth doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
After the Festival of Faith and Writing, I met up with Bob, a good friend from my Hastings days. We spent 8 days in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan reading and hiking. I always enjoyed hiking with Bob because of his knowledge of botany. We had a great time reading, writing, hiking, and watching freighters on the lake.
In May, we were able to move into our addition to our home. We enjoyed the additional space, all the windows and the cork floors. Our new back deck with views of the Buffalo was well used in summer and early fall. I thought we were about done with construction, but in November, we broke ground on a new 3 car garage to the southwest of our house. It should be done in January but as this is construction, it’ll probably be more like March or June.
My garden wasn’t much to write home about this year. Because of my father’s passing, I got everything in late, just in time for a six-week drought. When the rains finally came, it was too late. Besides, something at my cucumber plants so I had nothing to pickle. The tomatoes did so-so. I had enough to eat a tomato sandwich for six weeks, but only ended up making 7 quarts of soup and 6 pints of salsa (a fraction of what I did in 2023). But because of not working in the garden, I spent many mornings walking on backroads with Brad and even got in a canoe trip on the New River with Mike.
In September, my brother Warren and I headed to West Virginia, where we spent a few days riding the Greenbrier Trail. We had a good time. I thought about borrowing my wife’s new e-bike, but my brother would have made fun of me doing that the rest of my life and would probably tell the story of it at my grave.
In September, a planned trip to Pittsburgh was cancelled as we braced for a brush of Helene. We were without power for 36 hours and lost a lot of limbs, but with a whole-house generator, it wasn’t exactly suffering like those in the North Carolina Mountains. In October, I attended the Theology Matter’s Conference on Hilton Head and then headed to Wilmington to preach at the 80th anniversary service at Cape Fear Presbyterian Church.
In early December, I headed down to Harker’s Island to fish with two of my siblings, Warren and Sharon, along with Uncle Larry and his brother-in-law. We picked a frigid week, with some gale-forced winds, and only caught enough fish to one evening fish fry.
Donna continues to work the communication director for the Presbytery of the Peaks. Caroline still works for a cork company (and got us a great deal on cork flooring). Mia, our oldest dog, is slowing down but still in good health. Apple, Caroline’s Havanese, is as mischievous as any three-year-old. I continue to feel blessed to serve the two historic rock churches along the Blue Ridge Parkway. Preaching continues to be enlightening. This year I enjoyed working my way through Mark’s gospel. I have warned the churches of my intention to retire by the time I’m 70, but that still gives me a couple more years.
I continue to do a lot of walking and reading (look for my reading summary next week). Another treat is waking up in time to watch the morning light sweep across the Buffalo.
Panoranic view of the Buffalo from my study upstairs.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry Church Christmas Eve 2024 Luke 2:1-20
This is my favorite service of the year. The candles, the carols, at night, it all comes together as we celebrate Christmas.
The birth of a child opens new possibilities, and the child whose birth we celebrate this evening offers us a glimpse into the workings of God. Through Jesus, we experience grace, forgiveness, love, and hope. We live in a troubled world. It was that way when Jesus was born, too. But Jesus’ coming provides us with meaning and hope for today and eternity. May your celebration tomorrow be filled with joy.
During Avent, I often read a book about Christmas. This year it was A Ukrainian Christmas. Ukraine is a country where the east and the west collide. We see this collusion in the current war, but the Christmas season is another example. It’s resulted in Ukraine kind of having two Christmases, the Western’ world’s celebration on December 25 and the Eastern world’s celebration on January 6.
One of the influencers on Christmas in Ukraine came from German settlers who brought Christmas tree with them. In this way, Ukraine is like us, for Christmas trees in our county also came from German settlers in the first half of the 19th Century.
But many churches in Ukraine added their own twist. They leave the lights off the tree in church and have the church’s members bring lights to hang on the tree. They do this because they believe the light belong with the members, not within the church. We’re supposed to take the lights with us when we go out in the world, not hid them under a basket. Or to paraphrase Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, “lock them up in a church”. Think about this evening when you drive home together and see all the lights on homes. We are to be the light in the world.
This evening, I am reflecting on Luke’s account of the Christmas story which we’ve heard. I want to highlight three items this evening:
the role of Caesar, the message of the angels, and the significance of the shepherds.
Luke begins by informing us who’s in charge of the empire, Caesar Augustus. His birth name was Octavian, and he was the son of Julius Caesar’s nephew. On the Ides of March, 44 BC, Julius Ceasar was assassinated. 19-year-old Octavian set off with Mark Antony to defeat those who killed Julius Caesar. Two years later, they defeated the opposition forces and killed Brutus and Cassius. Octavian then ruled much of the empire. A decade later, after Antony joined with Cleopatra, he defeated their armies and gained control of the entire empire. Much of this is remembered through the plays of William Shakespeare.
In 27 BC, the Roman Senate gave Octavian the venerated name of “Augustus,” which means “reverenced.” As his rule continued, a cult arose about the belief he was divine. There was even a myth, like that of Alexander the Great two centuries earlier, that his father was a god.
By the time Jesus was born, some were proclaiming Augustus birth as the beginning of the “good news.” The same word, “good news, from which we get evangelism, was applied to Augustus as to Augustus may have been the most powerful person in the Western World up until this point. He controlled the empire. Rome entered a long period without wars with the empire’s external enemies subdued. Unlike Julius Caesar, who was a warrior, Augustus was seen as a man of peace. Of course, it was a brutal peace, enforced by Roman legions and terrible executions of those who dared challenge Rome’s authority. But that’s a story for Good Friday.
What’s important to understand is the world in which Jesus came already had someone whom people considered the bearer of good news, the prince of peace.
This brings me to the second move I’d like us to consider. The angels use that same language which referred to Augustus to refer to the child born in Bethlehem. The singing angels proclaim to the shepherds “good news for all people. A child who will bring peace to those he favors.
In a subtle fashion, Luke introduces conflict into his story. Who will win? The empire? Or the poor child born in obscurity in a far unknown region of the empire? One who some think is divine, or the one who is divine? Time will tell.
Then comes the third move, the shepherds check out the baby… We have tended to romanticize shepherds… with shampooed sheep munching on grassy hillsides. But reality isn’t nearly as pristine. It was a dirty business. When it rains, they get muddy. You deal with poop. You live outside with the animals, moving them from one grassy pasture to another. Showers are only available during the rainy season. The life of a shepherd was anything but romantic. Shepherds were dirty and looked down upon by the rest of society. Society placed them right up there with gamblers and tax collectors. Some Jews maintained they didn’t know the difference between mine and thine. People considered them thieves and some probably were. They were so looked down upon they weren’t allowed to serve as a witness in court.
The contrast between the shepherds and Caesar couldn’t have been more distinct. And who received the message that first Christmas morning? Not those in the royal courts. What does this tell us about the gospel?
One more thing… You know, the temple in Jerusalem required a lot of animals for sacrifices. There was a zone around Jerusalem, which included Bethlehem, in which the animals raised were selected over for the temple’s altar. So, these shepherds were most likely raising animals bound for the temple. With their dirty job, they help people obtain atonement for their sins, but now they rejoice for the one who will truly atone for our sins.
And finally, what did the shepherds do when they encountered Christ. All our nativity scenes show them bowing in reverence, and that may have been the case for they wouldn’t want to wake the sleepy baby. But when they got out of sight, on their way back to their flocks, they joined the angels in praising God.
So let me go back to the story I began with, about the churches in Ukraine not putting lights on the trees. It’s because they know we all should be one flicker of God’s light in the world. We’re to praise God for what God has done for us and to let our lights shine to show God’s work. The shepherds did that, and so should we.
So, when, in just a minute, we light the candles and cut down the lights, look around at the lights within this building and remember we’re to take those lights out into the world, where they belong. Amen.
Resources:
Edwards, James R., The Gospel According to Luke, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015.
Gerbish, Nadiyka and Hrytsak, Yaroslav; A Ukrainian Christmas, Nadiyka Gerbish and Yaroslave Hrytask, translators, Sphere, 2022.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry and Bluemont Churches Mark 13:28-37 December 22, 2024
Sermon recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, December 20, 2024
At the beginning of worship:
Sarah and her thirteen-year-old sister have been fighting a lot this year. This happens when you combine a headstrong two-year-old, who’s sure she’s always right, with a young adolescent, who knows she’s right. Sarah’s parents, taking advantage of her newfound interest in Santa Claus, reminded the two-year-old Santa watches and doesn’t like it when children fight. At first it had no impact.
“I’ll just have to tell Santa about your misbehavior,” her mother said at her latest outburst. She picked up her phone and tapped in the numbers. Sarah’s eyes grew big as her mother asked “Mrs. Claus” (really Sarah’s aunt) “could you put Santa on the line.” Sarah’s mouth dropped as her mom described to Santa (really Sarah’s uncle) the two-year-old’s behavior. When Mom said that Santa wanted to talk to her, the toddler reluctantly took the phone.
Santa, in a deepened voice, explained to her how there would be no presents Christmas morning for children who fought with their sisters. He would be watching, and he expected things to be better from now on. Sarah, her eyes even wider, solemnly nodded and then silently gave her mother the phone back. After hanging up, Mom (who held back laughter at being so clever) asked, “What did Santa say?”
In almost a whisper, Sarah, sadly, but matter-of-factly stated, “Santa said he won’t be bringing toys to my sister this year.”[1]
We’re a lot like Sarah. We like to read into situations that we are in the right and they (whoever they are, a sister, an opponent, or even a group of people different from us) are wrong. But Scripture reminds us that there is a problem in the world (called sin) and we (as sinners) are a part of the problem which is why we need a Savior. We must be careful at making ourselves out as righteous and others as being in the wrong.
Before reading the Scripture:
Today, we are looking at the ending of the 13th Chapter of Mark’s gospel. This chapter has an apocalyptic feel. On December 1, we looked at the opening where Jesus warned about the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. He continues discussing the tribulations his followers would face during this time of the temple’s destruction. They want to know when it’s all going to happen, but Jesus doesn’t let the disciples pin him down on a date.
Then he moves to discussing how things will get even worse, as we saw last week. Only afterwards, does the Son of Man return at the end of history. Still, Jesus doesn’t give any clear understanding as to when it will happen, only that we are called to be ready and that the elect will be saved.[2]
Today, Jesus once again uses a fig tree as a lesson, which he did in the eleventh chapter.[3] While Jesus has been emphasizing our need to be ready throughout the 13th chapter, he hits a home run on this topic in the last nine verses.
By the way, and for some of you this may be good news, this will be my last sermon on Mark for two months. God willing, I’ll come back to the book in late February. Hopefully, if all goes as scheduled, we’ll finish the book by Easter.
Read Mark 13:28-37.
Keep awake… That was so hard when I was a child. Sermons were bad as my eyelids became heavy. It was the same in school, especially in a warm classroom without air conditioning or overheating from steam radiators.
Keeping awake was hard, except for on Christmas Eve, when you were told to go to sleep. The difficulty of sleep on Christmas Eve topped even those nights with a tooth planted under my pillow… Something magical was happening. Anticipation arose, keeping sleep at bay. I’d roll and roll and when my parents looked in, pretend to be asleep. The clock kept ticking away.
Keep awake, you don’t know when this is all going to happen and when the Son of Man might appear. It’s been almost 2000 years since Christ left. We’re weary of waiting. It’s not something we’re good at. We fret when we are in the doctor’s office for too long. If we get behind a slow tractor heading down the two-lane sections of Highway 58, we stew. We brood if a waitress forgets or is slow with the coffee pot.
Waiting makes us feel out of control, unimportant, unwanted, and helpless. Yet, we wait all the time. Children wait for Christmas morning. Parents wait on children to go to sleep. And the more we wait, the more our blood pressure rises. When is it going to all happen?
And then, Advent rolls around in the church calendar. A period of waiting. It’s counter-cultural, for we are a society of people who want instant gratification. However, most people probably don’t mind waiting for Christ’s return. After all, we can put off the important things in life for another time. But that’s risky, Jesus says. That’s a gamble we shouldn’t take. Stay awake.
Mark provides us with a gloomily picture in this chapter. As I pointed out in my first sermon, much of it refers to the destruction of the temple which occurred in 70 AD. It was a period of false Messiahs and great upheaval. But in verse 24, Jesus moves to discussing his return. One way of looking at this passage is how, with the temple gone, the focus is on the Messiah, the risen Christ.
The Jesus who lives in our heart and is present in the church, which represents him in our world today. So yes, Jesus is here with us now in Spirit, but he’s also coming back in person…
In a commentary on this passage, Scott Hoezee, a friend, emphasizes tying together the two sides of Advent:
“If the first advent of Christ has any meaning whatsoever, it is only because he is coming back to judge the living and the dead. If he is not coming back, then there is nothing to celebrate at Christmas…. If ditties along the lines of ‘Have a holly jolly Christmas’ could cure what ails us in this life, then there never would have been any need for God’s Son to go through the bloody trouble of coming here in person.”[4]
As I said earlier, there is a problem in the world. As sinners, we’re a part of that problem and Christ is the solution. We need Christ not just to atone for our sins, but to give us hope for the future.
Our passage for today begins just after Jesus speaks about his return as the Son of Man. Jesus now returns to a familiar them for the entire chapter, our need to be ready. He uses a fig tree as a lesson. Just a day or two beforehand, Jesus cursed a fig tree for not providing fruit, and the tree shriveled up and died.[5] The fig tree was often used by the Prophets as a symbol of Israel.[6] Now, instead of a fig tree withering, he speaks of when it blooms, which is later that most trees. When it blooms, you know summers is at hand.
Remember, this whole chapter builds upon the question from a handful of disciples concerning the temple’s destruction.[7] With the temple gone, God will not be seen in relationship to the temple. Instead, God will be seen through his Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ. The fig tree which appeared dead in winter, puts forth new sprouts and is alive. Christ, who was dead, is resurrected.
Jesus doesn’t give an exact time for this to happen, instead he points to what will happen. The resurrection will happen soon. While the disciples are clueless, we know it’s at hand as we’re in the last week of Jesus’ life. Of course, his return will occur at a much later date.
But instead of focusing on his return, in verse 31, Jesus speaks of his eternal nature. Heaven and earth can pass away, but his words will not pass away. God is eternal, all else is temporal. Here, Jesus hints at his divinity.
Then we move to the final section of this paragraph. Jesus begins, in verse 32, with a problematic passage which has been debated since the second century. Jesus (at least the earthly/human Jesus) doesn’t know when it’s going to happen. Only the Father knows. We should understand how Mark depicts Jesus as following the Father’s plan.[8] Furthermore, maybe this is Jesus’ way to tell the disciples not to ask for specifics about his return. Like a parent telling a kid, they don’t know, it’s up to the other parent, Jesus deflects further questions.
This section, however, is primarily about our need for watchfulness. Are we doing what we should be doing. Of course, “Keeping awaken,” doesn’t mean skipping sleep. Then we’d be less watchful for we’d be exhausted. Instead, we’re to be ready. The chapter ends with the imperative, “Keep awake.” Or as The Messagetranslates the ending verse, “Stay at your post. Keep watch.”
One commentator on this passage writes, “vigilance, not calculation, is required.”[9] We’re not to be trying to figure out when Jesus returns. Instead, we’re to be ready.
The use of the story about the slaves or servants waiting on the master implies that they have assignments to do. The same is true for us. Jesus has given us marching orders, things we’re to do while the Master is away. Interestingly, with this final section in Mark 13, there are no signs given. The slaves don’t know when to expect their Master, so they must continue with their tasks… Likewise, those who follow Christ are given tasks. Are we doing them?
Christ has come, Christ will come again. But until he does, we’re his hands and feet in the world, taking care of one another while telling his story so that others will catch a glimpse of the hope the world has in our Savior. In this way, we’re being ready.
Oh yeah, and we should show patience, especially during this season. There’s a lot of stressed folks out there. Let’s show them a better way of being. Amen.
[2] Some scholars suggest that this passage is primarily focused on Jesus’ resurrected glory. See N. T. Wright, Surprised by Scripture: Engaging Contemporary Issues (New York: HarperCollins, 2014), 97.
[4] Scott Hoezee, Elizabeth Steele Halstead, Carrie Steenwyk, “Living in Advent: Worship Ideas from the Gospel of Mark” Reformed Worship 89 (September 2008), 9.
[5] Mark 11:12-14, 20-21. Morna D. Hooker, Black’s New Testament Commentaries: The Gospel According to Saint Mark (London: A. C. Black Limited, 1991), 320.
[6] See Jeremiah 8:13, Hosea 9:10, Joel 1:7, Micah 7:1. See footnotes for Mark 11:12-14 in The New Interpreters Study Bible (Abingdon Press, 2003).
Entrance to our home on Crazy Possum during Christmas 2015. Christmas was often warm down south, so leaving the door open wasn’t a problem when expecting company.
The Love Feast is a worship service consisting of song, scripture, and prayer. During the service, the dieners (German for servers), provide the congregation a light meal which usually consists of a hot cross bun and a mug of sweetened coffee, tea, or some other warm drink. The feast has its roots in the Agape Meals of the early church. In the Book of Acts, the New Testament Church is described as a community that not only worshipped together but also made every meal a joyous celebration as they praised God.
Over time, the church moved away from the love feasts and emphasized communion, a meal in which the elements are more symbolic. Communion, also known as the Eucharist or the Lord’s Supper, is a sacrament celebrated only by those who are a part of a Christian community. The Love Feast, as it is known today, is not a sacrament; it can be celebrated by everyone and is appropriate for ecumenical and interfaith gatherings. It is a time of joy the hosts share with their guests.
The modern Love Feast originated with the Moravians. This small Protestant sect traces their roots back to the Czech reformer, John Hus. Hus was burned at the stake in Prague in 1415, more than a hundred years before Martin Luther began to reform the church in Germany. In 1457, some who followed Hus formed the Unitas Fratrum—the Unity of Brethren—which is still the official name of the church. In Europe, at the time, many of its members were persecuted.
Early in the 18th Century, the remnants of the sect found sanctuary on the estate of Count Nicholas Ludwig von Zinzendorf in the Saxony region of Germany. Zinzendorf had food from his manor brought to the starving refugees, who ate while praying and singing. Such meals grew into frequent celebrations known as Love Feasts, a distinguishing feature within Moravian worship.
In 1735, Moravians joined General James Oglethorpe’s colony in Georgia, celebrating their first Love Feast in the New World in Savannah. The church, always open to cooperate with other faiths, shared the festas with everyone, not just members of the Moravian Church. John Wesley, who was an Anglican priest in Savannah and would later found the Methodist movement, participated in a Love Feast while in Savannah. Moved by the service, he later suggested its observance to his followers. Through the 19th century, Love Feasts were regularly celebrated in Methodist churches.
For many reasons, the Moravian colony failed in Georgia. Chief among them was the church’s pacifistic stance at a time when Georgia was fearful of a Spanish attack. Other reasons included the sect’s desire to evangelize Native Americans, their work with slaves in South Carolina, internal disputes, and problems with other denominations. In 1745, the Moravian remnant in Savannah moved to Pennsylvania (where they established Bethlehem). At approximately the same time, another group of Moravians settled in North Carolina forming several towns including Salem (now Winston Salem).
Moravian Star at our home in Hastings, MI following a snow storm and very cold weather. No doors were left open for this photo!
Moravians were particularly enthusiastic observers of the Christmas holiday from their early days in America. Moravian musicians have crafted memorable Christmas music and named their adopted city in Pennsylvania after the birthplace of Christ. Bethlehem has come to be known “the Christmas City.” Love Feasts can be celebrated anytime.. The Christmas season Love Feasts are a highlight of the year.
The multi-pointed stars seen hanging on porches throughout the holiday originated within he church during the 19th century. These Moravian Stars, burning bright during the dark season of the year, signals the coming of the Messiah.
The highlight of the Candlelight Love Feast is the closing, when with joyous singing, the congregation raises candles in praise and celebration of Christ’s birth.
Ray Burke, a Moravian pastor from Clemmons, NC, describes the service as a celebration designed to engage all our senses. “We hear the marvelous music and familiar words of scripture that tell of God’s coming. We smell the warm, rich coffee and beeswax candles. We taste the coffee and semi-sweet buns. We touch the cups, the buns, the candles, and the hands of our brothers and sisters in Christ as we greet each other in worship. We see the joy, the excitement. But there is more… even beyond the engagement of all our senses, lies that mysterious communion of our spirits with the very spirit of God.”
Bluemont Presbyterian Church will hold a Christmas Candlelight Love Feast on Sunday, December 22, 2024 at 5 PM. Everyone is invited. Bluemont is located along the Blue Ridge Parkway, just north of Willis Gap Road and mile marker #192. This post originally appeared in a December 2015 issue of The Skinnie, in a slightly different format.
Bluemont Presbyterian Church at night during the Advent/Christmas season.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry & Bluemont Churches Mark 13:14-27 December 15, 2024
Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, December 13, 2024
At the beginning of worship:
I recently read American Ramble by Neil King. Jack Betts, who attends Mayberry, lent me a copy of this book. An editor for the Wall Street Journal, King battled cancer and Lyme disease. Then came COVID. Then he sets out to walk from his home in Washington, DC to New York. It’s not a long walk, when compared to the the Appalachian or Pacific Crest Trail. But it’s long enough for him to meet some interesting people and to reflect on our nation’s history, the glorious and the infamous.
After making the walk, he returned to visit some of the folks he met along with way. One was Neal Weaver, an Amish man with a large family, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. As they watched his children playing, Weaver said. “Humanity at its core hasn’t changed really since the Roman Empire, or whatever empire you choose. We’re facing the same challenges they faced. And in response you try to be cheerful. You try to be a good neighbor. You try to be loving.”[1]
That’s good advice for Christians. While at times the world seems to be descending into hell, we do our best to help and encourage one another. During the Christmas season, people become generous and gracious. Let’s make sure we’re that way for the rest of the year.
Before reading the Scripture:
We’re continuing our Advent exploration of Mark’s “Little Apocalypse,” from the 13th chapter. As I’ve tried to emphasize in my first Advent Sermon, the season in which we prepare for Christmas is also a season to be reminded of our Savior’s return. We’ll hear about this in today’s scripture reading.
The first third of this chapter began with the disciples’ awe of the temple and Jesus’ raining on their excitement by informing them of the temple’s demise. Then, four of the disciples (Peter, James, John and Andrew) corner Jesus to ask him when these things will take place. Jesus foretells all kinds of troubles: from wars to earthquakes to famines.
But instead of saying he’ll return then; Jesus says it’s just the beginning. Wars, earthquakes, and famines are illusions to general calamities which have faced humanity since the beginning of time. Much of the purpose of the opening of this chapter is to encourage the disciples to remain faithful and not lose hope.
Jesus, who has three times in Mark’s gospel foretold his own betrayal, suffering, and death, then informs the disciples of how they’ll experience their own betrayals and suffering. But Jesus suggests this is a positive thing for the disciples will be able to share the gospel even into the highest halls of government. We might recall Paul’s story of taking the gospel all the way to Rome and perhaps even to Caesar himself.[2]
While the troubles in the opening part of this chapter are more general and describe things experienced throughout history, in today’s passage we see a more specific example. Things look bad. After the opening of this chapter, we could almost wonder if they could get worse, and the answer is yes. But even here, there’s hope, as we’ll see.
Read Mark 13:14-27
Evil in the gospels is personalized.[3] The battle Jesus engages in on the earth, as we see from his temptation right after his baptism, is Satan.[4] Satan hides through much of the gospel, with his minions doing his bidding.[5] But here, in the 13th Chapter, Jesus foretells of him making a grand entrance, through another surrogate. It’s a sign for believers to take cover.
As I mentioned in my last sermon, on the first 13 verses of this passage, Jesus insists his followers not use the troubles in the world—whether war, earthquakes, or famine—as a sign of his return.[6] They’re just birth pangs. But this changes in verse 14. Evil appears where it shouldn’t be.
I’m sure that the disciples listening to Jesus assumed this to be in the temple. There was a precented for this. In the 2nd Century BC, a Syrian king placed his own idols in the temple and sacrificed a pig on the altar, a very offensive act against the Jews. It riled up the Jews so much which led to the Maccabean rebellion which cast off the Syrian occupation. This was also mentioned in the book of Daniel[7] and is also from where the Jewish holiday Hannukah comes.[8]
While Jesus says, “Let the readers understand,” the interpretation of this passage isn’t so easy. After all, that sacrilege of the temple occurred nearly 200 years earlier. So, what it be?
Some point out that Caligula, one of the evilest of Rome’s emperors, who wanted to place his own statue in the temple roughly 10 years after Jesus uttered these words. But this never happened. His general in Palestine, knowing what would likely happen if he carried out the order, refused. Obviously, that general was one who understood history of the Maccabean revolt. Caligula was murdered before he could force his decree.
Most likely, what Jesus refers to here is to the destruction of the temple in 70 A.D. by the Romans. However, not everything jives with that account. Jesus doesn’t mention the temple itself, only that place where the evil one shouldn’t be.
We have no record of Titus, the Roman general who re-conquered Jerusalem, appearing inside the holy of holies. Furthermore, when he conquered the city after having cut-off all escape routes, there was no way for people to flee. However, by this point, most of the Christians had already fled. And everyone remaining behind suffered, especially pregnant women.[9]
It’s also difficult to reconcile the false messiahs, whom Jesus speaks of, coming after the fall of Jerusalem, although there were a few such false messiahs, even then.[10] But most of the false messiahs came before the Jewish revolt of 66 A.D. and the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 A.D.
But perhaps Jesus here, isn’t giving us a direct timetable as he insists no one will know when he comes. The whole purpose of the 13th chapter, which is reiterated in verse 23, is to be ready, to be alert, and not to be led astray by some charlatan. We’re to look for Jesus’ coming, no other.
In verse 24, Jesus moves to his own return. After all the troubles he recently mentioned, the trouble takes on a cosmic perspective. The sun no longer shines, which causes the moon to go dark as the stars fall from the sky. Of course, they had less knowledge of astronomy than us. The idea of falling stars as opposed to meteors being space debris, wasn’t fully understood.
But the point Jesus makes, I think, has to do with darkness as in there being no hope. And against this darkness, Jesus returns. His brilliance, against the dark sky, will be impossible to miss. Jesus second coming is different than his first in that all will see and understand. And the purpose of his coming is to save the elect, those whom God has chosen.
While there appears much to be concerned with this text, we’re given two bits of hope. First, God isn’t going to let the troubles of the world continue for too long. Second, in the end, Christ returns.
Of course, without the sun providing our planet with warmth and light, the world wouldn’t last very long. But then, as the faithful, we know that without God’s light, whom Jesus brought into the world,[11] we’d be hopeless. So, we wait, knowing that in the end, God will make all things right.
Interestingly, while the sacrilege in the opening of our passage could also be interpreted as the antichrist and antichrists spoken of in the Epistles of John,[12] Mark doesn’t go into his judgment of this person.
Mark concerns himself with the faithful, God’s elect. Mark informs and proclaims Jesus’ gospel in a way that those of us who listen, may believe and follow. That’s what’s important. Do we accept what God through Jesus Christ, has done for us? If so, we should not be tempted to run after others who make great promises. Instead, we keep our eyes focused on Jesus, especially in times of trouble. And, as Mr. Weaver suggested, we try to be cheerful, a good neighbor, and loving. Amen.
[1] Neil King, Jr., American Ramble: A Walk of Memory and Renewal (New York: Mariner Books, 2023), 344.
[2] Upon Paul’s arrest, as a Roman citizen, he appealed to Caesar, which resulted in his trip to Rome (described in Acts 21-28. At the end, we’re told that Paul spent two years in Rome, but we’re not told of him having an audience with Caesar.
[3] “In the New Testament, the devil is a leading character.” Fleming Rutledge, “Something Evil The Way Comes,” in Advent: The Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2018 ), 63.
A good day of catching flounders off Masonboro Island (sometime in the 1970s or 1980s)
My dad, who died this past May, loved fishing. I have fond memories from shortly after the time we moved to the Wilmington area in 1966, of riding with him in a jon boat over to Masonboro Island. We’d camp and fish. It was an annual fall ritual, generally done in October, once the weather cooled.
During the daylight, we’d roam the surf with light tackle, looking for holes. Finding one, we’d cast a minnow, hoping to feel the bump of a flounder biting. We’d let the fish take it for a minute before setting the hook and reeling it in.
After dark, we’d sit in lawn chairs on the beach, with a lantern for light, and fish using cut bait. We’d stay on the beach late into the evening. With the sound of the surf filling the air, I’d watch the winter constellations or the moon rise. The moon always sent its rays glistening across the water straight at me. We’d catch a short night of sleep and be back on the beach before sunrise, fishing again as the birds took to flight as the sun peaked over the horizon. Breakfast might be a bluefish grilled on coals. In time, Dad started to spend more time on the deserted island fishing so that by the time I was in high school, he’d spend a whole week there, coming back every day or so to clean and freeze fish and take a shower.
Sadly, by the time I was in high school and working, it was hard for me to spend much time on the island fishing. But I still made it over occasionally, sometimes paddling a canoe or kayak over. Then I moved away and started my ramble around the country.
Cape Lookout Lighthouse has stood guard since 1859
Back in the 1980s, when I living in Nevada, my father started taking a weekly trip every year, right after Thanksgiving, to Cape Lookout. While he would have never called it “global warming,” the weather had changed enough so that the blues and trout wouldn’t be running in October. For the next twenty-five or so years, he made the trip to Cape Lookout. His brother, my uncle, along with my brothers and their kids and a few friends, would make the trip. Occasionally, my sister and I were able to join him for a few days, as we were both living in other parts of the country. After my mother became ill, a couple of times we took off a week and split out time between staying on the island and staying with our mom.
Heading out in my brother’s boat
I’m not sure how many times I’ve been to Lookout, but probably a dozen or so. Sometimes it was for a night, other times for several nights. I’ve been over on the island when it was warm and the mosquitoes were horrible. And I’ve been when it was frigid, and the wind chill made it bone cold. But I loved those nights camping on Lookout. Sometimes we’d fish in the surf like we did on Masonboro Island, other times we’d fish from the boat in the marsh or out on the jetty south of the Cape.
Six or seven years ago, they stopped camping on Lookout. It just became too big of a problem to haul everything over on the island. Instead, they rented a house on Harker’s Island and would ride over in a boat each day to fish. My dad’s last time on the island was in 2020, shortly after my mother’s death. That year, my sister and I split the week so that my dad would have someone in his boat. After 2020, my uncle kept up the tradition.
Now that my father’s no longer with us, one of my brothers and my sister joined my uncle and his brother-in-law for a week on the island. My youngest brother couldn’t make it as he’s currently living overseas. It was good to be together, but cold. I’ve even been over on a solo kayaking trip.
This year, we only had one decent day of fishing at the jetty. We all caught our limit on gray trout, but that’s nothing to write home about because the limit is one per person. But it was enough for a good fish fry on Wednesday night.
Thursday’s wind from the east end of Harker’s Island
The wind blew like crazy on Thursday, with gust over 50 mph. No one had a large enough boat to go out that day as there were large waves in the sound. Instead, I spent time in the Core Sound Museum. I’d been there before, but it was rebuilt after it lost its rough to a hurricane a few years ago. They were getting ready for their duck decoy festival and Christmas. While I never duck hunted in these waters, duck hunting is just about as big as fishing in the Core Sound area. Our last day on the island it was bitterly cold. We stayed inland and fished for nearly five hours. I only had two bites, but no fish were caught.
Fishing on Friday with Larry and Dale
Despite the weather, it was good to be on the water and to spent time with my siblings and uncle as we fished and prepared banquets at night while watching college football.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry & Bluemont Churches December 1, 2024 Mark 13:1-13
Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, November 29, 2024. It was late in the day and the setting sun in some places was intense, whiting out parts of the pulpit.
Comments at the beginning of worship:
Advent always seems to pop up unexpectedly when it immediately follows Thanksgiving. We don’t have a buffer between giving thanks and focusing on the coming of Jesus. It’s as if the dining room table hasn’t even been cleaned as the Christmas music begins.
I often read a book about Advent or Christmas during this season. This year it will be a book on Ukrainian Christmas celebrations-if it arrives on time. In 2022, it was Fleming Rutledge’s Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ.[1]I still go back to that book.It’s a collection of sermons and lectures given by an Episcopal priest whose theology is steeped in the Reformed Tradition. I like her title.
Yes, we remember as we prepare for Christmas during Advent that the Jews waited for years for the Messiah. Jesus came and we celebrate his birth every year. But the other part of Advent is also important. Jesus will come again. During Advent, we hold these two themes in tension—the coming and the return of Christ. It’s not just about celebrating the past; it’s about being ready for the future.
Before reading the Scripture:
We will still be in Mark during Advent. But I’m skipping over the 12th chapter, in which Jesus teaches through a parable and some encounters around the temple. I’ll pick up those stories during Lent of 2025. In the 13th chapter, Jesus speaks about the end of history and the things which must happen before his return. These are Advent themes: the first coming of Christ and his triumphant return.
This chapter begins by focusing on the temple in Jerusalem, which we first saw in the 11th chapter.[2] Jesus, who in Mark only spends a few days in the temple, leaves its walls for the final time.[3] The disciples, country-bumpkins from Galilee, are in awe. They’re kind of like us, walking around New York City and looking up at the buildings in amazement. But Jesus has some bad news.
Afterwards, he and the disciples make their way to the Mount of Olives, which stands about 300 feet higher than Jerusalem.[4]There, with a perfect view of the temple below, four of the disciples ask Jesus about the prediction he made when they were leaving.
While this chapter contains some disturbing themes, it also has an important message for followers of Jesus. Things may get worse, but we hold on to hope and continue to proclaim Jesus as Lord.
Read Mark 13:1-13
When I was in the sixth grade, finishing up my last year at Bradley Creek Elementary School, I was sad walking down the halls and stairs and out the front door for the last time. I boarded the oversized orange snub-nosed Bus 6, which waited to take us home for the summer. I realized when taking those steps that I may never walk those halls again.
Ever since that early June day in 1969, I have had similar feelings as I obtained diplomas or said goodbyes to places of employment, along with apartments and houses around the country. There is something nostalgic knowing it’s your last time at a particular place. As for Bradley Creek, where I spent grades 4 to 6, I never did go back. The next year, I started Junior High. Because of redistricting, my brother and sister who were a year and two years behind me, moved to Winter Park Elementary. So, I didn’t even have a chance to go back and see them.
And later, after we all moved on, an arsonist burned the school to the ground. I was glad for those years between being a student and the flames because, like most 12-year-old boys, I’d fantasized about the school going up in smoke. I didn’t want to be a suspect.
Do you ever have nostalgia knowing you’re moving on and won’t ever have an opportunity to relive the past?
But I’m not sure Jesus had such feelings when he left the temple for the final time in our passage this morning. Jesus wants the disciples to focus and trust him, but they are in awe of the temple. After all, the massive 35-acre structure had been built using huge stones. The retaining wall on the east side incorporated chiseled out stones which were up to 45 cubits or 67 feet long.[5] When the disciples attempt to get Jesus’ take on the magnificent temple, he pours on cold water. See these great buildings, they’ll be all torn down.
After that, I imagine the walk down into the Kidron Valley and up to the Mount of Olives was a bit subdue. How can this be, they pondered. Once they arrive, with a majestic view of the temple before them, four of the disciples—Peter, James, John, and Andrew—corner Jesus. “Tell us,” they insist. “When will this happen?”
As often is his manner, Jesus doesn’t directly answer their question. He doesn’t say, “well, in 70 AD, Rome with have had enough of the Zealots in Israel and a mighty army will put down a revolt and burn the temple. And afterwards, just to make sure it’s gone, they’ll break apart the stones and wipe away any evidence it ever existed.”
Instead, Jesus uses this opportunity to teach them about what to expect. “Beware that no one leads you astray,” he begins.
Jesus knows, and history proves, there were others who came after him claiming to be the Messiah. After all, the type of Messiah Jesus turned out to be didn’t meet their criteria for David’s successor. Some would come, insisting on kicking out Rome, which scratched the itchy ears of the Jews who longed for revenge and to be made “great again.” And, in 66 AD, they did kick out the Romans, but it was a short-lived victory.
While Jesus speaks of false Messiahs, he essentially speaks about religious insiders who lead the faithful astray. These could be those within the church, who mislead people for their own potential gain. They could be those espousing a Christian nationalist viewpoint… Or a David Koresh, Jim Jones, or those within the Heavens Gate movement wanting to catch a ride on the Hale-Bopp comet. We must be careful not to follow such and maintain our focus on Jesus.
After teaching about insiders who endanger believers, Jesus continues by looking at the international scene, things in which most individuals have no control over. Wars will continue. Human history has had few periods without a war somewhere. He encourages the disciples not to panic.
As if troubling news on the international scene isn’t enough, Jesus also suggests there will be other problems. The world will shake and fail to feed… Earthquakes and famines. Even this isn’t the end. It’s important to understand, Jesus does not provide a timetable for the future here. It’s all just the beginning.
In verse 9, Jesus shifts and begins to discuss our responsibility as his followers. I can pictured Jesus humming Lynn Anderson’s song from when I was in Jr. High. Do you remember “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden?” Too often we think that once we accept Jesus, everything will be peachy. Scripture tells us otherwise.
Jesus speaks of his followers being hauled before leaders and into courts. As frightening as this sounds, Jesus suggests it’s an opportunity. We have an opportunity to give our testimony. We can tell Jesus’ story! And we shouldn’t worry about what to say. Instead, we depend on God’s Spirit.
And then it gets worse as even family members betray us, even to death. Think of those living in the Soviet Union or Nazi Germany and the betrayals which occurred. Yet, we’re to endure, to stick to Jesus[6] to the end. If we do that, we’ll be saved.
In some ways, the first events happening in this section of Mark 13 occurred in 70 AD, when the temple was destroyed, after a period of both famine and earthquakes in the region.[7] It was a time when people felt their world was ending. But there have been believers in almost every age who have gone through similar situations and the world continues. As bad as the first three centuries were for Christians, the 20th Century had more Christians martyrs than previous 19 Centuries combined.[8] While we in the United States, along with Canada and the United Kingdom have been spared from the worse persecutions, Christians in Europe, Asia, South and Latin America, and Africa all have faced great challenges.
The disciples asked the wrong question. Instead of when will this occur, the right question has to do with how we respond. What do we need to do to ensure we remain faithful? Of course, there seems to be no way to prepare other than trusting. We trust God to give us the words when needed. This section of Mark 13 is all about God’s work being done and we’re not directors but actors on the world’s stage. Do we keep our eyes on Jesus or are we lured away by false prophets and fears?
We should consider what we might do if we had to choose between Jesus, the truth of the gospel, and the lies of the world. Perhaps, if we find ourselves in such a situation, we should recall how Jesus taught us not to judge others.[9] We don’t know what others are going through.[10] Instead, we should focus on ourselves and our own salvation. Are we being true to the Jesus of Scripture? Amen.
[1] Fleming Rutledge, Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2018).
[10] As an example of such focus, see John P. Burgess, Holy Rus’: The Rebirth of Orthodoxy in the New Russia (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2017), 192.
I arrived in Kungur early on Sunday afternoon, the day before, after traveling three days on the trans-Siberian from Ulan Ude, west of Lake Baikal. That afternoon, I took a tour of the city and asked the guide about church services. At the Tikhvinskaya Church, she learned there would be services the next morning which would include baptisms. On Monday, I was there shortly after the doors opened. This church had only recently resumed being a church. During the Soviet era, the government converted the church into a prison.
Statue of Lenin and an old water tower across from train station
When I arrived, only a handful of people were in the church. Mostly, the congregation was made up of older women, but I did notice one man who was about my age and who seemed as clueless as me when it came to Orthodox traditions. As is custom, we all stood. However, around the edge of the massive sanctuary, there were a few benches and at times, some of the women would go sit down for a break. Much of the service consisted of alternating chanting from the balcony (done by a man and a woman) and from behind the icons (done by a priest). The entire service, except for a few readings, was sung without accompaniment. Not speaking the language, I was mostly clueless as to what was happening. But the building and the voices were beautiful, and I just took it all in.
Tikhvinskaya Church, photo taken from the main dome above the church
I had been there about an hour when a man entered the sanctuary and approached me, speaking in Russia. At first, I wondered if he was a beggar, looking for money, but he was too well dressed for that. He got into my face, and I smelled alcohol. He seemed distraught. I shrugged my shoulders and whisper that I don’t speak Russian. After a few minutes, he left and walked over to a window where there were numerous candles. He lighted a candle and stood for a few minutes. Then he turned around and headed over to me and in perfect English said, “I’m sorry, my father died this morning.” Caught off guard, I expressed my condolences and asked if I could pray for him. “Yes,” he said. I placed by hand on his shoulder and prayed. “Thank you,” he said, as he turned and left the sanctuary. I never saw him again.
A little later in the service, the priest opens the door through the icons and prepares communion. I debated taking communion, if offered. A few people went over to receive the bread, but most did not, so I remained where I was at. Then, an older mousy woman who’d been helping with things brought me a piece of the bread and offered it to me. I wasn’t exactly sure what it all meant, but I decided that communion is at best a mystery and the polite thing to do was to be gracious. Humbly bowing my head, I accepted the bread from the woman, held it for a moment while I prayed for her and for the congregation who welcomed me, a stranger.
After communion, a man and woman with an infant that looked to be maybe 6 or 9 months old, walked up to the priest and presented the child. From a distance, it appears the priest gave the child a piece of bread soaked in the wine. I couldn’t really see the baptism. Then there were prayers said over the child and each parent lighted a candle, then left. After some more chanting in Russia, the service ended. It was nearly 11 AM and I ran back down the hill to the hotel and checked out and headed to the train station for my next leg of the journey.
A view of the city with the Kruger River flowing through it.
John P. Burgess, Holy Rus’: The Rebirth of Orthodoxy in the New Russia
(New Haven, CT: Yale, 2017), 264 pages including index and notes. Some photographs.
Burgess, a theology professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, spent several sabbaticals in Russia learning about the Russian Orthodox Church. He worshiped in Orthodox Churches, attended Bible Studies, befriended members and priests. While Burgess roots are in Reformed Tradition, his inquisitive and open mind provides a unique insight into the Orthodox tradition.
While Burgess goal is not to give the reader a history of the Orthodox tradition in Russia, he does provide a history of the church in the 20th Century,. Much of this decade, the church lived under a dictatorial communist regime who sought to exterminate religion in Russia. The church struggled to survived as the government converted the church’s property into museums, theaters, and even prisons. The early years were the worse. The church strove to survive by supporting the government as they followed the Apostle’s Paul’s commands. During World War II, even Stalin saw the church as useful in the defense of the nation and the worse persecutions waned. But it wasn’t until the 90s, after the breakup of the Soviet Union, that the church was free to openly participate in society. Much of the book explains the rising role of the church during this era.
Holy Rus is a vague concept that see’s the Russian Church link to the nation for the purpose of the advancement of the gospel. While the idea was established during the age of the Czars, it has found its way back into the mainstream. Putin has embraced such ideology as he attempts to place Russia, and not the West, as carrying on the gospel traditions. While Burgess doesn’t say so, Holy Rus to me seems to be a Russian version of Christian Nationalism.
While this book attempts to explain the role of the church in modern Russia, it also part travelogue. Burgess takes us along with him as he travels Russia and meets with leaders and priests and laypeople within the church. This is a valuable book for those looking to understand the Orthodox Church’s role in modern Russia, but because of the expanded war in Ukraine, I sensed that the book was a little dated.
(2003, audible published in 2004), 27 hours and 41 minutes).
This Pulitzer Prize winning book has been on my TBR list for several years. I have previously read two of her books: Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine and Twilight of Democracy: The Seductive Lure of Authoritarianism. Both books seemed more important to understanding the world we live in than old Soviet history. However, a few weeks after I finished this book, Mike Davis, of Trump’s lawyers mused about building Gulags for liberal white women. Sadly, I realized it might be a good thing I have some knowledge of what he was talking about. Gulags aren’t necessarily tied to communism. They’re tools totalitarians use to create fear within society to keep people in line. In the old Soviet Union, any minor infraction could end you in a Gulag, which helped maintain control over the masses.
I started listening to his book in early October, knowing I had long road trips ahead in which I could listen to large sections of the book (I drove to Hilton Head, SC, then to Wilmington, NC, and then home). With over 15 hours in the car, and my regular walks, I was able to finish the book in less than two weeks.
Applebaum begins discussing how the Gulag took shape from the beginning under Lenin and on through the 70s and 80s. Over the course of the decades, the Gulag changed. Lenin used the prison system to put away “enemies” who had different ideas about government. This included many communists who saw things differently. One of the interesting things about the Gulag is that many of the prisoners remained loyal to the Soviet ideals. Early on, the Gulag was seen as a way for economic gain. Attempts to profit from prison labor included building the White Sea Canal and lumbering in the north and mining in the vastness of Siberia.
Stalin took the Gulag into more extremes and in the late 30s, during his purges, the most horrific atrocities occurred (both within the Gulag system and general executions). During World War 2, the Gulags in the east had to be moved to avoid capture by the Germans. Some prisoners, unable to be moved, were summarily executed. Applebaum spends some time discussing the differences between the Soviet Gulags and the Nazi Concentration Camps. As bad as the Gulags were, at least the Soviets weren’t attempting genocide against a particular race of people.
After the war, life improved slowly in the Gulags and things never returned to how bad it was in the late 1930s. However, many captured Soviet soldiers found themselves, upon being released from German POW camps, in the Gulag. Upon Stalin’s death and Khrushchev obtaining power, things slowly improved. But still, the camps continued to the fall of the Soviet Union.
One of the surprising things about the Gulags were the corruption, both by the camp leadership and the prisoners. Gangs often ruled the prisoners, especially those prisoners who were in the system due to criminal (as opposed to political or religion) crimes. These gangs terrorized other prisoners and sometimes even the guards.
The Gulags were also a training ground for those who would eventually lead to the breakdown of the Soviet system. The non-Russians often created their own gangs and many of those within the prison system learned leadership skills they would use to help throw off the communist governments in Poland, Ukraine, the Baltic States, and Georgia. In this way, the abuses of the Gulag created a time-bomb which helped undo the Soviet Union.
This is a long book, but worthwhile. Hopefully we won’t see any Gulags in our country. But Applebaum’s book serves as a warning.
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
(1962, Audible 2013), 5 hours and 5 minutes.
This short novel is set in a Gulag during the early 1950s. The prisoner wakes in his bed and begins to plan his day (or how to get out of work). It’s cold but not cold enough for them to call off work. Soon, they are all awake and begin their morning routine. He wraps his feet for warmth and worries if he will be discovered with extra cloth. They are not to hoard, but everyone does. This morning, he visits the infirmary hoping to be sick enough to avoid work. With his temperature only slightly elevated, he must work. He eats breakfast, where he’s given bread for lunch. Does it eat it all or save it and hope it isn’t stolen before lunch? Then everyone assembles for the morning count before marching off to their various jobs. Denisovich is a mason. He finds where he has hidden his trowel. He has a favorite one and is supposed to turn in the tools at the end of a shift, but he doesn’t. Laying block with the weather being well below zero means they must melt snow and warm the sand and mortar. At least it requires a fire. They work through the day. In the late afternoon, they march back for an assembled count. Standing in the cold, he hopes everyone is present and there would be no need for a recount. Then there is dinner and bed.
The story is grim. I felt the cold, the hunger, and the foreboding existence within the Gulag. There, the prisoners are not called comrades. Inside the prison camp there are those who faithful to the Soviet Union and others, like Ukrainians, who are not. There’s the Baptist who hides his New Testament and who has a different hope. But most people exist without hope. The day ends, the light in the barrack goes out, and the reader is left to understand that the next day will be the same.
The novel takes place in the early 1950s at a time when Stalin was still alive. Interesting, Khrushchev as Premier, read a copy and allowed it to be published. At the time, he attempted to move the Soviet Union away from Stalinism. The book publication occurred just before the “Neo-Stalinists” booted Khrushchev and replaced him with Brezhnev.
I was amazed the way this book highlights the quotidian events in the life of a prisoner in the Gulag. The writing (or translation) is stark and amazing. I started listening to this book immediately after finishing Anne Applebaum’s Gulag. I highly recommend reading it and wish I had read it earlier. The book will go back on my TBR pile as it is as worthy of rereading as Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea.
