Happy New Year—It always seems strange to our culturally modified ears to hear these readings on the First Sunday of Advent. If you were here two Sundays ago you’d recognize almost the same themes of apocalypse. Some years ago the readings of two Sundays ago would have been on the Last Sunday of the Church year but a change was made to make the last Sunday the Feast of Christ the King so that now these two Apocalyptic Sundays are no longer back–to–back.

I want to reflect on this juxtaposition of ending and beginning, the old and new, destruction and construction as one Church year slips away and another is about to begin. I think that many of us cringe from the apocalyptic tone of these readings, not only because of their inherent terror but because of the fundamentalist traditions of Christianity that use them to strike fear in the hearts of those who do not interpret these texts literally. First of all we might be confused to have these images presented for our reflection just when strains of “God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen” or Frosty or Rudolph play on the radio. For the church what supersedes our engagement with the nativity narrative is the very nature of ending and beginning—the passing of one church year and the beginning of the new one.

Endings and beginnings//death and birth// these are the real biggies. If you were from one of the old Midwestern cities as Milwaukee or Chicago or perhaps any large city in the US, you’d have seen many endings and beginnings--neighborhoods demolished to clear a space for the new—sometimes these plans proceed smoothly and art centers or sport arenas, industrial complexes or freeways spring up where a dying industry or blighted neighborhood once stood. Sometimes they don’t proceed smoothly as recently in a North-Eastern town where perfectly habitable homes were condemned under the right of public domain for a gigantic complex anchored by a pharmaceutical company only to now be a barren landscape as the drug maker pulled out. Destruction can be the easy part—construction the hard work.

Death and birth these precede in our lives both literally and metaphorically. We are being reminded of both as such times. The image we have before us today is much more powerful than a city renewal project—it is the image of the end of the world and the beginning of a new reign of God.

In some of the literature Keith gave me to prepare for these comments, the historical events around the readings was mined for our understanding into the meaning of the text. Biblical scholars tell us that 1Thess. was the earliest book of the New Testament written only a few decades after Jesus’ death around the year 50 CE—here the community of Thessalonica are getting anxious for the second coming of Jesus and especially worried about what will happen to those of their family who died before Jesus came—would they too make the guest list? Paul reassures them—yes, “We who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord will surely not precede those who have fallen asleep. The dead will rise first.” Ch. 4

But what about the Gospel of Luke—written even after Mark around the year 68-70--A few years before the destruction of the temple. Were there historical circumstances that influenced how the saying of Jesus was remembered? Ched Myers in Binding the Strong Man believes the words of both Mark and Luke were code to the community of believers in Jerusalem at the time of Roman persecution that the siege was about to begin, hence “then flee to the hills” He goes on to say that these words are a counsel to these early Judeo-Christians not to rally to the defense of Jerusalem” (335). To the infant Christian community struggling to understand their identity this death of the old and inauguration of a new order while having a sense of peril to it also has a hope of a new order—a birth. This historical interpretation had a more pressing theme than a literal apocalyptic doctrine of a literal end to the created cosmos and a time beyond.

What are the implications of these texts for out times? Does apocalyptic literature have any relevance to our times?

As Fr. Leo mentioned in his homily two weeks ago in our current culture there is a huge fascination with the end of the world predictions and scenarios. I don’t plan to see the movie 2012, the Mayan version of this archetype, but I think it fruitful to meditate on what the attraction to the themes is about now. The fundamentalist Christian community would say the literal, historical time for the rapture for the loyal few and the destruction of the majority is what is at stake. Others would say this archetype is activated because for the first time in the evolutionary history on the planet, the presence of life on the planet is in jeopardy due to all the abuse to the atmosphere, the oceans and the land, which abuse we collectively call “Global Warming.” Some others might say it speaks to them equally regarding the Roman Church that in its patriarchal myopia are biased only to the hierarchies power structure, Would Luke and Mark be telling us now not to try to defend it?

This myth of apocalypse and I don’t use the word “myth” pejoratively but as Joseph Campbell does when he says a myth is the best expression of an otherwise difficult truth—this myth is one that we are surrounded by everyday as some parts of us are dying—are they dying to make room for something new? Or just dying—the making of a devastated landscape.

For the most part we are an aging community here—so as we see our numbers dwindle, as we see our own vitality wane—we need even more the promise of a New Year—a birth, a rebirth. In a New York Times editorial I found an answer in an improbable place and person. The editorial was by Maureen Dowd and it was on Sarah Palin. It was entitled “visceral has its value.” In the past year I have been surprised by my interest in stories about her and I found myself reading this and that in pursuit of understanding what draws me—I knew it wasn’t her thought or her Yoda-like syntax and here in this editorial I found it. Maureen Dowd writes of a Judith Doctor a 69 year old spiritual therapist who at a Palin signing commented: “She is alive inside and that radiates energy and people who are not psychologically alive inside are fascinated by that.” Whether it is the thought of the rapture that her fundamentalist beliefs support or some other motivation I agree she is amazingly alive. I want some of that aliveness. I don’t think you have to be right to be alive inside and I don’t think she is right on most things I value, but I tell you I want some of that visceral aliveness.

It is my prayer for all of us in this community today that we be alive. And I’ll leave it to all of us, perhaps in the eighth sacrament—after mass refreshments--to begin a dialogue about what keeps us alive and lively.

Happy New Year.

Dawn George