Wednesday, November 4, 2015

An Eschatological Compass 

November 4, 2015

This isn't a sermon, but a reflection on a conversation, one that led me, as most conversations do these days, toward the idea of journey.  

I found myself in another of those interesting, Wednesday morning conversations today as I ate breakfast with fellow clergy from churches in the Route One area.  We’ve been meeting for grits and oatmeal and such on Wednesday mornings for ten or fifteen years now, and you’d think we would have settled all the questions of faith in that time but that, of course, is not the case-another indication that this faith of ours must indeed be an ongoing, ever unfolding business.  Maybe that is why I keep coming back to the theme of journey.  

Usually, the best I can say is that we are making our way toward something better in the company of that great host we remembered this past Sunday when we celebrated All Saints Day.  I used to be more aware of the dogma in which the Church operates, sometimes arguing for and sometimes against ideas and beliefs long held in our tradition.  These days I am coming to prefer silence and meditation to theological argument, so I was not sure how to respond when one of our group this morning brought up the subject of eschatology.  Eschatology has to do with the end times, as in the books of Daniel and Revelation, and it has to do with when, whether, and how Jesus might be returning some day.  Eschatology is a subject that many clergy, including yours truly, don’t spend much time with because the subject has inspired a lot of, Oh, what can I call it?……well, craziness over the years.  

The cartoons with the bearded guy on the street corner bearing a sign saying “the end is near” are a product of eschatology.  People wondering if Jesus would show up at midnight on December 31st, 1999, those who gathered on mountain tops to pray and welcome him back.  They too were responding to eschatology.  Every so often, people are sure they have come up with some kind of mathematical code hidden in scripture that explains the exact day when Jesus will return.  Those are some of the ideas that come to mind when I hear people talking about eschatology, or the end times so I mostly ignore the subject.  I am glad though that my friend brought up what is still an important part of the Church’s life, giving us all a chance to look beyond some of that old baggage.  I am glad because I need to be reminded sometimes about the parts of the tradition I conveniently shuffle to the edges of my mind’s desk.  I am glad too because eschatology has an important place in the theme of journey that we are currently using to explore this faith of ours at St. Aidan’s.  

Part of journeying involves having a sense of where we might be headed and eschatology might help with that.  Yes, I know we have talked about being called into the unknown by God who doesn’t reveal what lies ahead.  We have said we have to set out seeing only what we are leaving behind, trusting God to lead us to a new and better place.  We don’t get the details, only the promise that God will accompany us and lead us well.  It is that intentional lack of details provided by God that makes me think trying to wrap our minds around what happens at the end of history is not particularly helpful.  But the part about being called to a place that God will show us, and journeying there in the company of God will, if we let it, move us toward awe, and maybe silent reflection, and great hope.  Eschatology has a lot to do with what we think the whole point of this faith endeavor might be.  

Just try to imagine.  What kind of a place would God show us?  What must lie in that direction?  If the way involves trusting again and again, sometimes against all our instincts, which is what all the scriptural stories of call and journey suggest, how might we and our world be changed along that way?   Imagine.  I have to believe that’s where all this eschatology stuff started, with imagination.  I don’t claim to know anything about the end times, and I sure won’t try to tell you that the biblical images of the fulfillment of all things have anything to do with what will be.  I will tell you that we have received our tradition from humans like ourselves, people who intuitively dreamed of something better, people who for thousands of years have associated the desire for life more deeply rooted in justice and love with what Verna Dozier calls the “dream of God.”  I’m thinking of people like St. Paul and St. Peter and great King David whose journeys were sometimes one step forward and two back, people whose lives were often changed through struggle and having to face hard truths about themselves, people who in the end are remembered for taking steps in the company of their divine companion toward a future described by that divine companion as “the land that I will show you.” I find that part of our story compelling. 

Every day, we all set out on journeys of some kind, little journeys, big journeys, journeys set within journeys.  Every day we rise and begin to make our way.  I can think of no better compass for our journeying than trying to imagine the dream of God for this day, for our lifetime and for the grand scheme of the cosmos.  Imagine.  

The witness of the Church through history is not to some point on a calendar out in the future, but to the hope revealed in its members.  Our hope is that we and all creation are being created ever more fully and drawn ever more deeply into the dream of God which we intuit to include love, justice, peace, mercy, fulfillment, the list goes on.  And when our movement toward the vision seems glacial, maybe it is only because God will not leave behind recalcitrant wanderers and distracted stragglers. That too is a part of the vision….at least as I imagine it.  You see how this works?   

Before you head out on your next journey, I invite you to sit with or take a walk with or somehow spend time pondering the “dream of God.”  What comes to mind for you around that timeless image and where will it lead you? 
JB