The Second Sunday in Advent
Malachi 4:1-6; Romans 15:4-13; Luke 21:25-36
In the name of the Father and of the ☩ Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Danger is what we’re shown today in the readings. You heard the absolute terror in the Old Testament lesson. “The day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble. The day that is coming shall set them ablaze, says the Lord of hosts” (Mal. 4:1). The Gospel reading does the same. Jesus says, “There will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth distress of nations in perplexity because of the roaring of the sea and the waves, people fainting with fear and with foreboding of what is coming on the world.” (Luke 21:25-26).
Not the most cheery of readings, are they? There’s no way around it. The lessons for the Second Sunday in Advent sound dark and ominous. They’re not festive at all. Instead of Christmas, instead of celebrating the Christ Child’s birth just yet, we’re given this warning of danger. There are actually two dangers here, and we’ll consider them in turn.
The first danger is the obvious one. The Day of the Lord will be a day of terror. That’s clear. But for whom? For the unbeliever. That’s what we’re told. When Matthew uses the word “Nations,” he’s referring to non-Christians. There will be “distress of nations,” Jesus says, fear and foreboding. We also hear this in Revelation 6, where it describes the Last Day. In that text, after showing us the four horseman and the suffering they bring upon the earth, we’re told that “the kings of the earth, and the great ones, and the generals, and the rich and the powerful, and everyone” will hide themselves in the very mountains that are crumbling upon them, begging to be hidden from “the wrath of the Lamb” (Rev. 6:15-16). That will be the reaction of the unbeliever: complete and unbridled terror.
But that is not for you. Nope. For you, Jesus says, “when these things begin to take place,” when there’s distress and terror and foreboding, rather than cower or hide or dread what’s coming, what does Jesus tell you? “Straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28). It’s the same in Malachi, after describing the terror of the unbeliever, God says, “But for you who fear my name,” that’s you dear Christian, for you “the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall” (Mal. 4:2). That’s the reaction you’ll have. On the Last Day, you will exhibit a sort of calf-leaping-from-the-stall kind of joy.
And that, you see, is why Jesus gives you the magnificent image of the fig tree. “As soon as they come out in leaf, you see for yourselves and know that the summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place” (Luke 21:30-31), when you see the terrors of this world, the horrors you heard in the readings, all of the darkness and distress of this life, Jesus says, lift your heads in expectation and in joy. For those trials are screaming the coming of your redemption. Not the dread of winter. Jesus doesn’t compare the sufferings of this world to the leaves falling off the trees, and you know that dark, cold days are ahead. He compares it to leaves forming on the trees. The buds.
This is what we need to hear at times like this, when you look out and see the darkness, not just because it’s December and the days are short, but because you endure one gloomy day after the last gloomy day. Jesus says, “you know that the kingdom of God is near” (Luke 21:30). And you know that, not merely because your heart sorrows over something, but because you have a God who has taken the sorrow you bear in this life, every weight of anxiety and foreboding uncertainty, every gloom, and He has placed it on His own shoulders. Jesus bore it through the streets of Jerusalem, took it with Him to the place of the skull, to the cross, to the nails, to the blood, to the thorns and the spear and the grave. And on the third day, He left it there. Now, your Risen Savior is no longer burdened by sorrow, and soon, neither will you be.
So, you see, the first danger in our text is not a danger at all for you. It’s not for the Christian. For you, there simply is no anxiety over the thought of Judgement Day. Any worry you have about Judgement Day is simply a lie of satan. Christ has taken your place under the wrath of the Father. He is risen for your justification, and you are baptized into Him.
That’s the first danger of the text—which is no danger at all for you—Jesus’ Second Coming. The real danger is in waiting for it. That’s the second danger we have to talk about, and that danger very much does apply to you. Your danger is now, in the waiting.
That’s why, when your Lord gives you this beautiful image of the fig tree, telling you to lift up your heads and your redemption is drawing near, He immediately follows that up with this cutting warning. “Watch yourselves,” He says, “lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life” (Luke 21:34).
The word for “Dissipation” refers to a sort of unrestrained indulgence in sin. But this is interesting because that crass licentiousness, the disregard for the things of God, promiscuity and drunkenness, all the pleasures of the flesh, the ways people self-medicate to escape life, all of that is set alongside something else just as destructive. Jesus simply calls it the “cares of this life” (Luke 21:34).
Because we may not have the signs in sun, moon, and stars, we may not panic about the world falling apart, but we do have the cares of life weighing us down. We have the distractions. We have worries, the constant concern over something. We have aches, and not just of the body. There are anxieties and sorrows you bear that cannot be relieved with more lights and presents. There are people missing from around the dinner table, those who don’t sit next to you in the pew anymore. There’s uncertainty about the future, all sorts of burdens entangling your heart… Well, that’s the danger. That’s what keeps us from looking forward to the Last Day, it’s what keeps us from the things of God. It’s just easier to sit in front of our screens than it is to pray, or hear what God would speak to us in His Word, or take our place here among the ranks of the baptized.
But that’s your danger. Jesus doesn’t pretend that you won’t have the cares of this life weighing down your heart. He knows you will. But He doesn’t give you instructions for how to solve those cares. Jesus doesn’t give you tips for managing your anxiety. He doesn’t ever encourage you to get to a point where you finally don’t have worries anymore, where you don’t have those struggles. He doesn’t do that. That’s what you and I strive for. We want to get past whatever it is we’re currently worried about. But your Jesus simply gives warning, “Stay awake” (Luke 21:36). He says, “Stay awake.” And the way you do that, the way you wait and watch for the Lord’s return, is not by standing around, staring up into the sky, like the Apostles when Jesus ascended into heaven. The angels appeared then and said, “What are you doing staring into heaven?” No, you watch for the Lord’s return and stay awake by looking to where Christ is. He comes to you in His Word and Sacrament.
So you repent of your sin, you are absolved, reconciled to God through His Son, He then turns you away from looking at yourself to seeing Christ in your neighbor, so you care for them, and the weight upon your heart is lifted. Hearts that are not weighed down are ones forgiven. So be forgiven. And when you feel the drowsiness of despair coming over you, when you feel the drowsiness of anxiety, the drowsiness of cynicism and selfishness and every sorrow, and you think to yourself, “How can I possibly stay awake as you tell me, Jesus?” It is then that He gives you a stimulant. It’s in the Chalice. The gathering of the saints in Christ’s Church is your joyful response to the troubles of your life. For here, you take your place alongside your brothers and sisters in Christ, and He feeds you, that you be reconciled and sustained.
There’s a lesson here for us, that because Jesus’ death has destroyed death, because His resurrection has brought you life eternal, it puts guardrails on our own despair. Do not grieve as others do who have no hope. Don’t give in to it. Evil will continue to infect this world, anxiety will threaten you your whole life, there’s always something to mourn. But make it your practice, dear child, to see in these things the buds forming on the trees. That’s how you await the Last Day, the day of your Redemption, when Eden is restored, every promise fulfilled, and every longing you have is satisfied.
That’s not just something we believe, it’s what we look forward to. Notice when we pray the Nicene Creed, and we say “I believe” to all these things, there’s one part that we don’t merely “believe.” Have you noticed this? We say, “I believe in the Holy Ghost… I believe in one holy Christian and Apostolic Church. I acknowledge one Baptism for the remission of sins.” But then we say, “I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.” We look forward to that.
So don’t let every concern have its way with you. Stay awake. Lash yourself to the mast of Christ’s ship. Hold firm to the promise of His Word. The buds are already on the trees! “Even now, when tempests round us fall and wintry clouds o’er-cast the sky, Thy words with pleasure we recall and deem that our redemption’s nigh” (TLH 64:2).
In ☩ Jesus’ name. Amen.
The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.
"If God is for us, who is against us?" 