Signs of the Times

Sunday, December 1, 2024, First Sunday of Advent – Luke 21:25-36, also Jeremiah 33:14-16, Psalm 25: 1-10, 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13.

Prior to the outbreak of World War I, psychiatrist Carl Jung had a series of visions that he later interpreted as foreshadowing the First World War. His visions included an image of a sea of blood covering Europe up to the Alps. Dreams and visions pointing to the end of the world have been claimed throughout history. Sometimes those visions come true and sometimes they don’t.

In every era there are those who claim that current events are the signs of the end times, signs of the apocalypse. It’s hard to know what to believe, but it’s not difficult at all to get discouraged.

In September of 2024, 65% of U.S. voters said that the country is headed in the wrong direction. In May of 2022, that number was 75%, and in October of 2013, that number was the highest it’s been: 78%. While we might see the downward trend as hopeful, the fact is that a full two thirds of us are still worried about what we see happening in the United States and the way things are going.

And the presence of more and more endless war – with its atrocities streamed 24/7 – alongside economic and environmental threats can easily lead to what our gospel calls “dissipation.”

“Dissipation” isn’t a word we hear a lot in 2024. But if we can believe John Wesley – the founder of what is now known as the Methodist church – it’s a word that was used regularly in 1872. In fact, his sermon #79 was written entirely on the topic of dissipation. In it, he claims that the word “is so in every one’s mouth, that it is already worn threadbare,” another word we rarely use.

So, what does “dissipation” mean? Well, it can mean a “squandering of resources” or “a loss of energy.” It can also be associated with drunkenness and loose living. In this sense, dissipation is about outward behavior.

But,” writes Wesley, dissipation “is within before it appears without: It is in the heart, before it is seen in the outward conversation. There must be a dissipated spirit, before there is a dissipated manner of life.”

In the context of our gospel and of our current world, dissipation may have more to do with this inward spirit, with feeling disheartened, a loss of hope, and being trapped in the grip of fear. Maybe our outer conditions are the result of an inner epidemic of dissipation.

So, what leads to dissipation? Wesley points to our tendency to become distracted from God. As beings created by God, he says, God is the rightful center of all human spirits. And as long as our spirits are united to God, Wesley preached, “created spirits are at rest: They are at rest so long, and no longer, as they ‘attend upon the Lord without distraction.’” But, he says, our capacity to fully attend to God is limited unless we are renewed through Christ. At that point, we are again “joined to the Lord in one spirit.”

This joining is through God’s grace, but the more we allow ourselves to become distracted from God, the more we become dispirited and dissipated once again.

We are swimming in distractions. All we have to do to become dispirited these days is turn on the news or fall down a rabbit hole of social media. Every way we look, we can find something frightening to grab our attention and hope can seem like an unreachable state. Not only that, but we live in a very cynical age where hope is hardly more than an outdated political slogan.

But don’t we long for something more than this? Don’t we know deep down that things aren’t the way they could be? Don’t we yearn for something better?

As we begin the season of Advent today, I’d like us to think about this question: For what are we longing?

What do we long for as individuals and what do we long for as a congregation? We might say Redeemer is in a state of dissipation. Though we aren’t engaged in drunkenness and loose living, we are experiencing a loss of energy and resources. We may be feeling a bit disheartened or dispirited when we see outer conditions that frighten us. But here I think we would be wise to turn to Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians for guidance.

Though Paul and the new believers of Thessalonica faced great opposition, Paul’s work with his fellow evangelists to share both the gospel and their own loving kindness planted seeds that bore great fruit. While Luke’s gospel text points to times of fear, foreboding, confusion, and dissipation, we see joy, gratitude, love, prayer, and strength in Paul’s letter.

What brings about these hopeful conditions?

Relationship. Love and connection. We see that in Paul’s beautiful sentences:

How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you? Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith.”

Even here, in this new congregation of Thessalonica, separation and disconnection may have led to a dissipation of faith, a draining of hope. But when Paul sends Timothy to reconnect their bonds of love, their faith is restored. And joy and gratitude are overflowing.

No one can flourish alone. We need each other. When one of us falls down, another of us can offer a helping hand. This is not only true of individuals, but also of congregations.

We’ll be talking after this service about our own situation, and about conditions facing our sister congregation Gloria Dei. It seems timely that we are entering a season of longing and of wondering if it’s possible to hope.

Soon we will hear again the familiar stories of the angel announcing Mary’s pregnancy. We’ll hear again of the child lying in a manger and the holy family surrounded by shepherds and angels. We’ll read about how the shepherds shared with Mary and Joseph all the signs and wonders they had seen that led them to the manger. And we’ll hear how Mary pondered these things in her heart.

Let us not get distracted from God. Let us not have dissipated spirits. Let us listen instead for signs and wonders, for evidence of God’s love and grace. And let us use this season to ponder all of that in our hearts so we can welcome whatever hopeful purpose God is seeking to birth in us today.

An Addition

I didn’t include this in my sermon, but I also love this bit of writing from my friend and theological colleague, Bruce Epperly.

The signs of the times – the end of one age and the emergence of another – are revealed in natural process and human history. God’s realm is near, and it will emerge out of the travails we are currently experiencing. We can give ourselves over to fear. We can also be awake, guard our spirits, and look for signs of healing amid the crises we observe. Our story is part of a much larger story: the grand teleology of the universe aiming at wholeness. While we cannot intuit a final moment in history or a prescribed goal to history, we are challenged to live with hope even in our hopelessness. Hope comes from ‘being on guard’ and being prayerfully ‘alert,’ seeking the strength which comes from a trusting and obedient relationship with God.”