The Signs of Advent

Luke 21:25-36 "There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. ²⁶ Men will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. ²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." ²⁹ He told them this parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near. ³² "I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. ³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. ³⁴ "Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. ³⁵ For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth. ³⁶ Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man."

On Sunday, April 14, 1935, across the Great Plains of America – in Kansas, Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle, Colorado and New Mexico – people awoke to a bright and clear morning. It looked like it would be a fine, sunny day. This came as a welcome relief. For several years, that part of the country had been suffering from a severe drought, and dust storms – “black dusters,” they called them – were an unwelcome frequent occurrence. Most every day had been gray and hazy. The dust carried in the air made it hard to breathe. People – children and the elderly, especially – got “dust pneumonia,” which killed many. But this Palm Sunday morning looked like it would be a clear and sunny day.

But before the day was over, the biggest storm of them all – a mile high and 200 miles wide – would sweep down the plains and turn the day to night. Palm Sunday, 1935, would forever be known as “Black Sunday.”

In the PBS series, “The Dust Bowl,” which aired two weeks ago, people who lived through Black Sunday as children, now as elderly men and women, recalled in vivid detail what they remembered from that day. One elderly woman had difficulty describing that day. The word she finally settled on was … “evil.” Another woman recounted, “We saw this cloud coming in. It would just roll in – black, black dirt. And I’ll never forget my grandmother … she said, ‘You kids run and get together. The end of the world’s coming.’ … And that cloud just rolled like that, just kept coming in. It just got dark as could be.”

They weren’t wrong in thinking that way. Jesus prophesied, “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars” (Luke 21:25). “The sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light” (Mark 13:24). These folks back in 1935 had good reason to think this was the end of the world. What they were experiencing was one of the signs that Jesus said would happen when the end comes. The sun was indeed darkened. It did look like judgment. It did look like doom.

While Jesus was standing in the temple courtyard in Jerusalem on Tuesday of Holy Week, He taught His disciples about Judgment Day. He said there would be signs preceding this Last Great Day. Signs like wars, natural disasters, the sun and moon darkened, persecutions, as well as the spreading of the Gospel message. These are signs we see right now. But they are also signs that have been occurring ever since Jesus ascended into heaven.

It might seem strange that we are talking about the signs of the end of the world when we can look all around us and see the signs of the season of Christ’s birth. But we in the Christian Church are not celebrating pre-Christmas. We are in the season of Advent. This is not a time for finding good sales and decorating the house and singing commercialized Christmas cheer. It is rather a time of darkness, a time of longing, a time for watching and waiting and preparing. And so, the Scripture readings for the first Sunday in Advent, do not remind us of the events leading up to Christ’s birth in His first coming. Rather, Advent lets Christmas tell the story of Christmas, and instead prepares us for Christ’s second coming so that we may be able to stand before the Son of Man when He appears.

As Christians, we are actually living in the constant season of Advent, because we are constantly preparing for Christ’s second coming, which is more complicated than preparing for Christ’s birth. It’s easy to get ready for the coming of a little baby. We get the room ready, repaint it, put in a rocking chair, crib and baby monitor. But that’s it. We don’t have to touch the rest of the house, because the little baby won’t notice if our house is a little messy; he won’t say a word if we’re not dressed in our best; he won’t be bothered if we are pre-occupied with other things and don’t give him our full attention.

But it’s much harder to get ready for the return of the eternal King, coming to judge the world, decreeing where we’ll live in peace or suffer in agony for an eternity. But that’s how Christ is entering our world this time – not as a baby, but as the King of kings and Lord of lords. Are you ready for Him? Are you giving Him your undivided attention? Have you prepared not only a room for Him to stay once in a while, but have you cleaned your whole spiritual house of sin so that He can take over your entire life? Are you dressed in your best by getting rid of the filth that clings to you?

Jesus taught, “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth.” That sounds like December and holiday parties, doesn’t it? Jesus knows us. He knows how easily distracted we are, how quickly we go back to our old, sinful way of life. He knows that our godly spirit may be willing, but our old flesh is terribly weak. He knows that we begin with the best of intentions, but like a little leaguer’s swing, our follow through isn’t very good.

That’s why Jesus warns us, “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down.” Jesus isn’t talking about hearts weighed down with cholesterol and carbs. Rather, heavy with the anxieties of life pressing you down on every side. Your calendar is full, your life is full, your days are full. Your heart is as heavy as a rock.

“Be careful so that day will not close on you like a trap.” Doesn’t it feel like you are trapped right now? It’s hard to find a job in this economy. You’re worried about keeping a roof over your family’s heads and food on your table. You’re overwhelmed with all the work you have to do and still spend time with your children. You feel trapped. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to turn.

These feelings of heaviness and entrapment are of our own doing. These feelings come, not from looking up to the Savior in the clouds, but by looking down at the idols of our own making. Our idols are killing us, consuming us bit by bit. Martin Luther called the human heart a great “idol factory.” Unbuckled from the fear, love and trust in God above all things, the heart will latch onto just about anything. It’s like those annoying burs that find your clothing while walking in the woods. The bur will stick to just about anything. That’s the way our heart is, beating with the lusts of Adam, the ambition to be gods of our own making, to control the universe (or at least those around us). We cling to any kind of pleasure, excitement, lust, whatever will make us happy.

And the great irony is that everything that weighs down our hearts and traps our souls, was not meant to be carried by us. Jesus wants us to be light-hearted, not filled with anxiety and worry, not bloated and drunk, not clogged with cares and concerns. Jesus does not want us to be caught off guard and seduced by the world into a sleepy stupor. Christians are wide-awake people. We are alert, ready, awake, watchful. When we hesitate and can hardly bear to leave our earthly things behind – like Lot and his family – that’s when we know we are trapped. Instead, Jesus wants us to stand up and lift up our heads. That’s the posture of Advent, and that’s the posture we are to have as live in these last days.

“When these things begin to take place” – when you see these signs of Christ’s Advent - then “stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” When the people saw the giant dust cloud coming at them in 1935, they thought the world had ended and it was their doom. But Jesus says something different for us as Christians. When the end is coming, it isn’t your doom, but your redemption that is drawing near. Not your destruction. Not your demise. Not your death. Your redemption.

Jesus gives a picture: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near.” The braches are fat with sap. The buds are ready to burst. The leaves are ready to break out because summer is near. So it is with Christ’s eternal kingdom. We see the signs of the end times all around us and realize that our world is in the dead of winter. But the signs Jesus gives to His disciples are not signs of death, but of life. The budding fig tree. Summer is near for God’s saints, even in the dead of our winter.

Look around you. Read the signs. Christ is coming soon. His Advent is near. When you step outside it feels like winter, but when you look at the Scriptures, when look at the signs in the world and when look up to the sky in faith, you can see that summer is coming. This world’s winter is almost over. For Christ’s first Advent was entering our world in the dead of its spiritual winter. Jesus came to our spiritual darkness and barrenness. He lived among all the signs of death – leprosy, lameness, tears, graves and death every where He went. He took on real, physical cold, desolation and hardship. Christ has gone through this world’s spiritual winter for us. The cold-hearted rejection by the world. Suffering, stripped of all His beauty and majesty. Death on a tree that showed no signs of life at all. Buried in a borrowed tomb with soldiers making sure His corpse was not disturbed.

But from that life of humility, that sacrificial death and the tomb broken open, Jesus has brought the summer of life to us. He entered our world once in the manger. But now He enters your world in bread and wine, water and Word. Your redemption has drawn you near in your baptismal union with Christ. Your redemption draws near every time you receive a union in communion with Christ’s body and blood. Your redemption draws near every time you hear a sermon, read your Bible, sing a hymn, because you are listening to words that will never pass away. Christ comes to you and brings you life and light, just like He was bringing summer to your soul.

Describing the Dust Bowl, one elderly man said it didn’t matter how bad someone said it was … it was worse. For the unbelievers, when Christ comes and darkens the sun, moon and stars, it will be worse for them. It will fill them with anguish and perplexity. They will faint from terror at what is coming on the world. They will see the heavenly bodies shaken. As bad as they think it is … it will be worse.

But for we who believe, the final judgment means deliverance. It means salvation. It means that our redemption is drawing near as Christ enters our world one last time coming in a cloud with power and great glory. It won’t matter to us that Christ has darkened the sun and the moon. Though the sun will be no more, nor will there be brightness in the moon, we know that the Lord will now be our everlasting light and God will be our glory (Isaiah 60:19). He will rescue us from this dead world of winter and bring us into the eternal summer of heaven. The signs are all around us. For we are not preparing for the Advent of a baby. We are preparing for the Advent of a King. Amen.