With a Bang or a Whimper?

A First Advent Sunday Sermon

Preached at Hanover Street Presbyterian Church

On November 28, 2004

By the Rev. Thomas C. Davis, Ph.D.

Texts:

Isaiah 42: 1-4a

Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.  He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.  He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth.

Luke 21: 25-36

There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.  People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.  They will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.  Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

Sermon Text

Christmas is coming.  The goose is getting fat.  Please to put a penny in the old man's hat.  This is the season of Advent, a lovely time for showing special kindnesses. In this season we remember how a humble carpenter's son changed the world, and we open ourselves to his spirit, so that through our deeds he might go on changing it. 

This is also the season when Christians look forward to Jesus coming again, coming to finish what he started, the redemption of humankind. When Jesus does come again, finally there will be justice upon the earth. The wicked will be punished, the righteous rewarded. That's the gist of our tradition's teachings about the second coming.

Many Christians fail to notice, though, that our scriptures do not agree on how this justice will be accomplished.  Many scriptures anticipate a sudden and violent reckoning.  The book of Revelation says that an avenging angel on a white horse shall slay the wicked, rampaging for hundreds of miles, with blood up to its bridal!  All of the lectionary's early Advent readings carry a similar ominous tone. "People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world," says the Luke reading this morning.  Another early Advent reading says that there shall be two people labouring in a field. One shall be snatched away, and the other left to endure terrible tribulation.  Only as we get closer to Christmas and turn our attention to the first coming of Jesus do our Advent readings reflect the gentleness and graciousness of God, instead of God's violent, avenging wrath. 

Biblical thoughts about the coming of God's kingdom are not all violent, however.  Jesus preached more about the coming of God's kingdom than any other subject.  Do you remember his first sermon, preached in his hometown, Nazareth?  He got up in the synagogue and read from the same portion of Isaiah that we read from this morning.  Here was what Jesus quoted:

"I am the Lord, I have . . .given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness." 

No fire and brimstone in that passage; no vindictive reckoning, no bloody purging of the wicked.  Instead, liberation by transformation:  opening eyes of the blind, bringing folk who have been locked away in darkness up into the light of day.

The earlier part of that same chapter in Isaiah also paints a peaceful picture of how God's justice shall be accomplished:  not by violent vengeance, but rather by a servant so gentle that he will not even raise his voice, let alone his fist.  Let me read that passage again:

"Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.  He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.  He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth."

So, we notice that the forty second chapter of Isaiah paints a picture of a gentle, spirit-anointed servant who accomplishes justice not by killing all the baddies, but by changing them, freeing them from their blindnesses, liberating them.  That's how we think of Jesus as we approach Christmas, isn't it-- as a kind and gentle Transformer, not a Terminator?  Yet, as I said before, all of the early Advent readings speak of Jesus' second coming in ominous and violent terms.

So which is it, then?  Shall God's justice come by way of a violent bang? Or shall it come rather, through the inspiration of a peripatetic rabbi from Nazareth, who started life like you and me, as a whimpering child, and gradually opened himself as wide as wide could be to God's spirit; and who preached in his very first sermon that God's justice shall be accomplished through transformation, not annihilation? 

The poet, T.S. Elliot says at the end of his poem, "Hollow Men," This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.  This is the way the world ends: Not by a bang, but a whimper." 

Which do you think?  A bang, or a whimper? Scripture puts forth both ideas, but it seems to me we cannot hold onto both and still honour Jesus.  Trying to lands us in this dilemma: Either Jesus was a nut case who talked out of both sides of his mouth; or else, the Jesus who prayed "forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do," went through some mean re-education in heaven and is coming back to finish what he didn't get right the first time around. 

Some Christians might want to settle for that second option.  But if you do that, you must part company with Jesus of Nazareth, for his way was the way of the cross, not the way of vindictiveness.  The cross was the consequence of Jesus' refusal to use violence in order to win justice.  Jesus could have called in his adoring crowds to defend him with clubs and hoes and pitchforks, but he didn't.  He didn't because he did not agree with the widespread idea that justice and righteousness can be achieved by killing off all the baddies. That's NOT the way of God, Jesus taught, again and again.  Most of his parables were about the kingdom of God.  The kingdom of God was his vision of this world, where God's compassion rules instead of Rome's might. It seems to me that the idea of a Terminator Messiah would have struck Jesus as tragic evidence that the myth of redemption by violence still holds sway.  Choosing the cross was Jesus' way of saying: "Oh no it doesn't.  Over my dead body!"

Judy Collins, one of my favourite folk singers, and a Jew, sings a song that I find especially meaningful during Advent, as I remember the first coming of Jesus and await his second coming. The song is about the hope of every parent who dreams that his or her child might grow up to change the world.  When I lift up either of my two grandchildren, I wonder:  Who are you going to become, Greta?  Who are you going to become, Griffin?  I look into their future, and I see a very troubled world, yes, but I also see a newly arrived human being, full of promise!  The Jews of our spiritual past had the idea that one child would turn out to be very special.  He would change the world!  His wisdom and kindness and courage would change the world!  "Wonderful counsellor!  Prince of Peace!"  Well, when I think of the second coming of Jesus, I think not in terms of a Terminator, but rather, I think in terms of that wee child I hold aloft as I muse:  What promise you hold!  You can become so wise, so kind, so courageous!  You, blessed grandchild, or anybody's child! Thanks be to God, the spirit of Jesus is alive, and Jesus can come again, in anybody's child.