Whoops

II Thessalonians 2:1-5, Luke 20:27-38

 

        Wednesday I gazed out my window toward the autumn sky. My 4:00 appointment had canceled and there was nothing scheduled for the rest of the day. The golf clubs in the trunk of my car were screaming my name. With no guilt whatsoever I bolted from the office and headed toward Stoney Creek. If you don’t play golf you may not have experienced the glorious view off the tee box on Tuckahoe number one. The leaves shimmer in the golden sunlight and are beautifully reflected in the lake along the right side of the fairway.  In the distance the mountains are incredibly framed by a sky so blue one might believe God did graduate from the University of North Carolina. I was in heaven.  Enjoying the day more than the golf, by the fifth hole I had forgotten about the recent time change and found myself alone in the dark. I begin to ponder about how often the transition from light to darkness confounds our understanding of the unknown.

        All of us have experienced the loss of a loved one. In this transition from light to darkness, life to death, the church has tried its best to offer hope. The uncomfortable reality that clouds our thinking is exposed when we carefully look at texts like the ones before us.

        I and II Thessalonians are the earliest writings in the New Testament. They predate the gospels by as many as 30 years. Paul, in his early ministry, confidently proclaimed that Christ would return in all his glory very soon. The message of first Thessalonians was to daily prepare for the coming of the Lord.  This message gave comfort to folks being ridiculed and persecuted for their faith. 

        But Jesus didn’t come. People began to die. Folks asked Paul if a believer died before Jesus returned would the believer be with God. The circumstances of the day caused a total reversal in the thinking of Paul. He went from the message of don’t worry about today because Jesus is coming, to a strange proclamation that the Lawlessness One must be revealed before Jesus will return. In Paul’s later writings he steps away this belief and eventually proclaimed no one knows the mind or plans of God, therefore live each day with the assurance that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God.

        Paul was confused and we need to give him a break. When walking in the sunlight we see everything clearly. But when the sun disappears behind the mountain and the shadows of life cross our path, things can get murky. We begin to speculate about what lies beyond the darkness. Some folks tell compelling stories of near death experiences. Some folks have overactive imaginations. While most of us cling to the later promise of Paul that nothing can separate us from God, what does that actually mean?  Speculation concerning the mind of God raises questions for some and gives comfort to others. There is no right or wrong answer. Experience has taught me the transition toward death with people of faith is different than with people who find the notion of God to be old-fashion and outdated. But even that statement comes with a disclaimer. Living with the approaching shadow of death is not easy.

        2,000 years after Paul’s letters to the Thessalonians what do we believe about life and death? I will not make the mistake Paul made and suggest what I believe can be proved. Statements of faith only ring true with those who believe them. Furthermore, often our obsession with defining the indefinable only leads to meaningless declarations that appear strange even to those who do believe.

        In the Luke text Jesus was having a conversation with the Sadducees.  They were a theologically conservative group of teachers perplexed by the concept of resurrection.  Their disdain was reflected in their questions.

        “Jesus, Moses taught us if a man dies and has no children, his brother must marry his brother’s wife and attempt to impregnate her so that the dead man’s legacy might continue to flourish. What if the dead man had seven brothers? Each died before the woman had a child. When she dies, and goes to heaven, who will be her husband?”

        We laugh at the absurdity of this question yet the statements we proclaim about heaven expose a similar lack of depth. Songs are sung about heaven’s gold paved streets. Some cling to the idea of finding a loved one. Some claim a physical transformation where perfect health will be restored.  Is any of this true? Often when I sit with a family after a loved one has died, in order to transition through the pain the survivors often seek reassurances that the family will be together again. I learned a long time ago, death is not the time to grapple with ones dreams. But now, flooded by sunlight, allow me to suggest that our vision of God’s future is too small and too stuck in this world. Jesus said, “God is not the God of the dead but of living.” Then Jesus added this radical thought, “In God’s eyes everyone is alive.”

        Standing on the tee box of the sixth hole I was cloaked in darkness. I swung hoping my drive would find the middle of the fairway. I never found the ball, but I believe when the light returned someone did.

        Beyond what we perceive to be our final sunset awaits God. I dare not imagine anything beyond simply being found.                     For me, that is more than enough.                Amen.