When Heaven Was Shaken

Luke 21:25-36
Advent 1
November 28, 2021

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”


The pumpkin pie is barely cold, and Jesus speaks of the end of the world. Once again, the calendars collide.

I hope you had a good Thanksgiving. On the cusp of winter, we pause and give thanks for all the blessings received from the hand of God. The past year had its challenges, but we have gotten through it. So we gathered at abundant tables, sliced up the feast, and celebrated all the goodness we have tasted. The main course for the meal is gratitude: gratitude for a generous God, a saving God, a most gracious God.

And yet, Jesus says, “Keep your eye on the sky. The end is near.”

It’s a hard Sunday to preach. If I had my druthers, we’d have another slice of pie and sing a few more verses of “Now Thank We All Our God.” Gratitude is a virtue, the well-spring of love and generosity. We love and give because God has loved and provided for us. One Thursday a year is a good beginning for counting our many blessings - family, friends, meaningful work, warm home, reliable resources, and so much more.

Gratitude looks backward. We survey what we’ve received. We give thanks for what we’ve experienced.

And yet, the Voice of Advent interrupts and points us to the sky ahead. “Signs in sun and moon and stars… the heavens will be shaken.” Friday night, heaven shook a bit when we returned my mother to her home. The snow dust came tumbling down. It’s a sign of things to come.

Beyond the return of snow, there are perpetual signs of trouble. Jesus assumes we will always endure “distress among the nations,” that the sea will roar, and people will be afraid. Distress is what drives the daily news. There’s always something to panic about. The Lord is not surprised by that. In his own day, there were earthquakes, famines, and the occasional deadly pestilence. Nations were always clashing their swords against one another.

And in his Advent Voice, Jesus declares the day is coming when all of that will be over. No more swords, no more danger, no more violence. He speaks with the Old Testament prophets, pointing ahead to an event they called “The Day of the Lord.” They were convinced that human history is going somewhere. The seasons may cycle around, the years may slumber on, but one day it will no longer be the same old thing. The hidden Dominion of peace and justice that Christ came to inaugurate will be revealed. All shall see it. It will be obvious and all-encompassing. In the words of the prophet Isaiah, “All flesh shall see the glory of God.” Or as the Lord himself quotes the prophet Daniel, “They shall see the Son of Man coming in power and great glory.” It’s going to be big.

The problem, which Jesus highlights so clearly in our text, is that too many of those covered with flesh have stopped hoping, or working, or preparing the way for the Son of Man to come.

I was telling a couple of my Bible study groups the same old joke that I’m fond of telling every time Advent rolls around. If you’ve heard it, just nod your heads and groan. It’s a joke drawn from the days when the Pope of Rome was Italian, not an Argentinian.

It seems one day in the Vatican, somebody looked out the window. He gasped, called out, and pointed. Everybody in the office gathered around to see Jesus was drawing near on the clouds. It was the big day, the Promised Day, the Day of the Lord. One of the archbishops said, “Get the Pope. Bring him here.”

The Pope arrived, looked outside. Indeed, it was a most glorious sight. He said, “It’s the Lord, coming just as he promised.” And one of them said, “Holy Father, what should we do?” And the Pope said, “Look-a busy!”

Martin Luther would have smiled at that. He famously exclaimed, “When the Lord returns, may he find me at my plow, working in the fields.” In other words, not standing around or twiddling the thumbs or wearing a white robe of celibacy – but at work, tending to the daily chores, anticipating his return by doing what normally needs to get done.

What’s curious in today’s text is neither the Pope’s advice, nor Luther’s retort, seems to have characterized the believers in Luke’s church. As Luke reports the words of Christ, they sting: “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life…”

Now, we know what drunkenness is. What’s “dissipation”? In the Greek language, “dissipation” is another word for “hangover.” So, we wonder what was going on in Luke’s congregation: “Be on guard so that your hearts are nor weighed down with hangovers and drunkenness.” Oh my. Were they going back for refills on the communion wine? Passing around another kind of spirit? Hmm, I wonder.

Luke also reports the story of Pentecost, as told in his second volume, the Book of Acts. In that account, Simon Peter stands up to preach after the miracle of speech and understanding. He addresses the people who had gathered for the Pentecost holiday and says, “These people are not drunk as you suppose, rather they are intoxicated by the Holy Spirit.” But by all appearances, it looked otherwise.

I don't want to make too much of this. There are some churches who make a lot of noise about the consumption of alcohol. One of our choir members grew up in a Kansas City church where the pastor gave an annual temperance sermon. This was the expectation. He told me the story over a glass of wine in his home.

Other churches take a more modest approach, declaring “all things in moderation.” They point out there was wine at the last supper, and the apostle Paul advised, “A little wine is good for the stomach” (1 Tim. 5:23). But he does say, “A little wine.” In Luke’s day, it seems there were more than a few who were tipping a few too many glasses. “Dissipation” was the word he used. It was a distraction from the coming of Christ, a distraction that some had a tough time overcoming. “Be on guard,” he says. Watch out.

And then there’s that other phrase: “Be on guard that your hearts are not weighted down … with the worries of this life.” If you have worries, you might be seeking a distraction. However, if you lean back to get the full sweep of the Gospel of Luke, “worries of this life” are the distractions.

Like that day in the home of two sisters, Mary and Martha. Martha bustled around, preparing dinner, while Mary sat and listened to Jesus teach. Finally Martha built up enough steam to explode, “Teacher, don’t you care that Mary has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me.”

What does he say to her? “Martha, Martha, you are distracted by the worries of this life” (10:42). Same words.

Or that other day, when he told the crowd a story: “A farmer went out to sow a field. He threw the seed all over the field … Some grew among thorns, and the thorns grew with it and choked it.” Afterward, the twelve disciples said, “Tell us what that one’s about.”

How did he explain it? “As for what fell among thorns, these are the ones who hear (my Word), but as they go on their way, they are choked by the worries and riches and pleasures of life.” (8:14). Same exact words.

I’m reminded of the blooper that somebody saw in a worship bulletin: “Don’t let worry kill you; let the church help.” Kind of a double entendre, don’t you think? It’s true – some churches will add to your worries. They pile on the fears.

But what does Jesus say? Stand tall. Lift your heads. Be on guard. Stay awake – and pray. This is his invitation to pray with our eyes open. To pay attention to the signs of the times and the distractions in our lives – and to look beyond them to the coming of the Lord. He is coming to help, to finish, and save. We will be gathered up, not left on our own.

How does he say it? “Your redemption is drawing near.” The Christ is coming. This is the hope at the heart of Advent. And it’s precious, good news.

In fact, that news is so good that, when I get home today, I’m going to have another piece of pie.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.