SERMON PREACHED BY
THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
ON THE FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT
2 DECEMBER 2007
 
 
 
"Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left." (Matthew 24:40)
 
 
Some of my best sermon ideas come from the Wednesday morning (now co-ed) Bible study. Usually I don't give the group credit, but today I will. Last Wednesday, in looking at this morning's Gospel (we always study the lessons for the forthcoming Sunday) our group focused on the baffling verses which Matthew uses to describe the Second Coming: "Two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together, one will be taken and one will be left." Just what does this mean? Who will be taken and how? Who will be saved and why? Will there be a mighty whirlwind which carries the lucky one up into the clouds? Is this what some Christians call The Rapture? Will people be chosen based on whether they've been "naughty or nice," or will the Lord choose every other person randomly? At a more basic level, the group was asking "What is this Second Coming stuff all about, anyway? And at a deeper level, yet, what is Judgment? What is salvation? And why should we be concerned with such heavy issues when we're busy getting ready for Christmas, going to parties, decking the halls, and perhaps even donning gay apparel?
 
If I were to answer all these questions adequately, I'd be still droning on this afternoon (probably to an empty church) when everybody was arriving for Lessons and Carols at five o'clock. So I'll just give you the Cliff Notes version. The last question is easy. We are concerned with these heavy theological issues because Advent has, as it were, a two-edged sword. It is not merely a season to prepare for the Coming of the Christ Child in the Manger at Bethlehem; it is also a season to prepare for the Coming of Jesus at the end of time. As one of the Christmas collects tells us, "Grant that as we joyfully receive him for our Redeemer, so we may with sure confidence behold him when he shall come to be our Judge." Advent is both-and, not either/or.
 
It might be helpful at the outset to say what the Second Coming is not. Despite the popularity of the theme in books, movies and in certain Christian communities, we do not believe that the Second Coming will come in the form of Rapture, a religious belief based largely on a literal interpretation of certain verses, like those in today's Gospel. According to such belief, when the time comes, all the true Christians will disappear because Jesus will rescue them and take them directly to heaven. There they will wait out the "tribulation," a time of warfare between the forces of God and the forces of the Evil One, the Antichrist. After the climax of this war in the Battle of Armageddon, peace and joy will reign forever. In the meantime, non-believers are left behind on earth to fend for themselves during the Battle. I have it on the best authority that those with more traditional theological views can buy a bumper sticker which reads, "In case of The Rapture, this car will still be occupied by an Episcopalian."
 
Seriously, one of the flaws in the Rapture theory is its implicit belief that earth is not our home, that it is only a vale of tears to be tolerated until the Lord takes us to our true home in the skies. It further believes that the world is intrinsically evil, an idea which just doesn't square with the fact that Genesis tells us that God created the earth and called it good. The other problem with the Rapture is that believers can be encouraged to be totally indifferent about the world in which they live. AIDS, global warming, poverty can be ignored, since all will all be better "in the sweet bye and bye."
 
One thing we can say with absolutely certainty about the end of time is that no one knows when it will take place. In Luke's Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that the day will come when they will long to see the days of the Son of Man. But he warns them, "You will not see it." They will say "Look there," or "Look here." "Do not go," he instructs them. In Mark's Gospel, he tells them in plain Aramaic, "No one knows."
 
Next, Jesus also makes it clear that until such time as he comes again, it'll be tough sledding. Good and evil will clash, to be sure, but guess what? The good guys and the bad guys will duke it out together in "this fragile earth, our island home." The good guys will not be whisked away to safety while the malefactors are cast into outer darkness. And at the last day, Jesus also reminds us that our social status, predicated on such criteria as gender, race or class will count for nothing. There is a reason that Matthew's Gospel has two parallel sayings; in the first, two men are in a field; in the second, two women are grinding meal. Meal-grinding was a duty relegated to women or slaves. So the verse teaches us that neither salvation nor damnation is related to the elaborate pecking orders that we human beings so easily contrive.
 
Ultimately, Jesus gives us two pieces of advice about the Second Coming. First, don't worry about it. Don't become preoccupied with trying to figure out, through the reading of Scripture, or numerology, or crystals, or revelations in the form of voices from heaven, when the Lord will re-appear. If you open the dictionary to "exercise in futility," figuring out the Second coming is the first definition.
 
The second piece of advice, simply put, is, "Live each day as if it were your last." Or, otherwise put, live every day as if you expected it to be the day of the Second Coming. This is, I think, what Jesus means in today's Gospel, "Keep awake, therefore, for you do not know what day your Lord will be coming." (Someone once said that the most pernicious "ism" in our society is neither racism nor sexism, but somnambulism. Sleepwalking through the Christian life, thus missing opportunities for service, is one of the most serious deterrents to our Christian pilgrimage.) My friends, if we remember nothing else from this morning's Gospel, let us remember that Jesus' utterances are not morbid warnings about how we should die; rather, they are hope-filled instructions about how we should live.
 
Have you ever heard of Stephen Covey? He is the author of several self-help books that everybody buys in airports. His most famous one is The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I am wary of self-help books, which like, Mr. Covey's, tend to provide a quick-fix approach to success. Nevertheless, I would like to think that Mr. Covey, a Mormon, might have been inspired by today's Gospel when he wrote the following:
Imagine yourself in your coffin . . . at your own funeral. People are leaning over you, muttering things about you. Some of those things are not very pleasant, but they're true. What is it that you wish they really would say? Who is it, at the end, that you really hope to become? Today, put into action a plan to make that happen. Don't wait for it, but take a hold of it, begin implementing the end right now.
 
Today, as we begin the church's new year, it is not a bad time to make a few resolutions, I would modify Mr. Covey's advice and say, "Put into action a plan to ask God to allow that to happen.
 
Let us pray:
New advent of the love of Christ, shall we again refuse thee,
Till in the night of hate and war we perish as we lose thee?
From old unfaith our souls release to seek the kingdom of thy peace,
By which alone we choose thee.