God’s people have never lived without the hope of a coming Messiah!
Okay, we’re going to start with a little honesty quiz: How many of you have ever jumped to the last chapter of an intriguing book to skip the details and find out what happens to the main character, or for a mystery, to find out “whodunnit”? Whoever picked the order for the passages in the lectionary as we begin the new liturgical calendar must have been the type of person who likes to read the end of the book first, because on this first Sunday of Advent, as we begin to looking forward to celebrating the First Coming and birth of our savior, the lectionary committee chose to start with passages describing Jesus’s Second Coming!
But who can blame them, right? Even as God was confronting and scolding Adam and Eve for listening to the serpent in the Garden rather than heeding the one “thou shalt not” God had given them, he was already looking forward to a coming Messiah: the “seed of the woman” would crush the serpent’s head and win victory over death. He let Adam and Eve know that Jesus is coming, but there’s work to be done, so start the family line.
Sometime later, after the flood and a fresh start, God called Abraham to be the father of many nations. This was, in effect, a microcosm of the Creation itself. Just as God himself was the father of all nations through Adam and Eve, so Abraham would be the father of God’s chosen people, the Hebrews. And even though Abraham tried to (and did) make that happen according to his own will through Hagar and Ishmael, God still gave him the child of the promise, Isaac, through Sarah, and that at the ripe old age of 100. And even though Isaac was Sarah’s only child, God still tested Abraham to sacrifice his only son of the promise on the very mountain where the Messiah would be sacrificed on the cross nearly 2,000 years later. Abraham may not have known that Jesus was coming; there was work to do, a sacrifice to be made, and he understood that God would provide a sacrifice so we wouldn’t have to pay the price. In fact, Genesis 22:8 could be translated: “God will provide himself as the lamb.”
God called Moses to deliver his people from slavery in Egypt. After being raised in the lap of luxury in Pharaoh’s court, Moses realized how poorly the Egyptians were treating his own people, and he rebelled and fled to Midian. There he encountered Yahweh, the “I am,” in a burning bush, not realizing that several centuries later, God’s own son would use the name “I am” of himself seven times. God used Moses’s second 40 years of his life to prepare him to lead his chosen people out of slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land. Jesus was coming; there was work to be done, a nation to be rescued from the clutches of Egypt and led into its own inheritance where Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob once dwelt.
The problem with a theocracy is that, if the leaders and the people aren’t going to be faithful to the God at the head of the theocracy, things probably aren’t going to work too well. After several cycles of faithful obedience, rebellion, captivity, and rescue during the period of the Judges, the Jews thought their answer might be found in a king, just like the nations around them. God knew better, but because the people insisted on it, God let them have their way. They made their first choice, Saul, based seemingly on his appearance, a man who stood taller than the rest. But after proving to be an utter failure, God called David to be anointed as their king.
But God did something else when he called David: he knew that their earthly kings, all of whom would be descended from David’s line, would follow the same cycle of Judges over their collective history. The people were beginning to understand this as well, that no human ruler, whether priest or king, could ever really bring them satisfaction as a political ruler or religious leader. Knowing this, God made an additional promise, that the Messiah they’d heard whispers about through their history would come from the lineage of David. Not only would he be a king, but he would also be a priest “in the order of Melchizedek.” Psalm 110, written by David, became the Messianic psalm that embodied that hope:
1 The Lord says to my lord:
“Sit at my right hand
until I make your enemies
a footstool for your feet.”
2 The Lord will extend your mighty scepter from Zion, saying,
“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”
3 Your troops will be willing
on your day of battle.
Arrayed in holy splendor,
your young men will come to you
like dew from the morning’s womb. j
4 The Lord has sworn
and will not change his mind:
“You are a priest forever,
in the order of Melchizedek.”
5 The Lord is at your right hand;
he will crush kings on the day of his wrath.
6 He will judge the nations, heaping up the dead
and crushing the rulers of the whole earth.
7 He will drink from a brook along the way,
and so he will lift his head high. [1]
This is the psalm Jesus used to confound the pharisees: They knew the Messiah would be the son of David, but they couldn’t figure out why “father” David would call his “son” or descendant “Lord.” It just didn’t work that way in Jewish culture. This psalm narrowed the focus for the Jews about where the Messiah would come from, so they made every effort to keep track of who was born to whom, thus the early chapters of 1 Chronicles that happen to agree with Matthew’s genealogy. The Jews knew a Messiah was coming, but there was work to be done. They had to establish the royal line from which their ultimate king, their Messiah, would be born.
From that point on, the prophets take up the task of filling in some of the details of the coming Messiah. Isaiah tells us Emmanuel will be born of a virgin, and he will bring light to the Gentiles, and Micah tells us this will happen in Bethlehem (5:2). Isaiah tells us that not only will the Messiah be a servant to God’s people, but a suffering servant who will be wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities. Isaiah goes on to tell us he will be an overcoming servant who will bring us hope not only in the present, but in the closing chapters of his prophecy the promise of a new heaven and new earth! He speaks of the second coming of the Messiah even though the first coming of the Messiah hasn’t happened yet, demonstrating how sure Isaiah is of this hope.
Jeremiah speaks of a restored kingdom and a new covenant in which God will “put his law in their minds and write it on their hearts” (31:33). Ezekiel says more than once that God will remove our hearts of stone and give us new hearts of flesh and a new Spirit. He also says that someday, a new temple would be built to house the glory of God. Ezekiel calls his readers to be watchmen and shepherds protecting God’s people from danger. Zechariah may even unwittingly give us a clue to the Messiah’s name, as Joshua, the Hebrew form of Jesus’s name, is the high priest who eventually receives a crown. Zechariah goes on to speak of the victorious king coming in power riding on a donkey. Joel speaks of God’s Spirit being poured out on all flesh.
Jesus is coming! That moment is getting closer every day, and the hope of that day seems to grow more intense as the Jews return from exile and rebuild Jerusalem and eventually the temple. The Messiah is coming soon, and there’s still work to be done: building, restoring, encouraging faithfulness, being a light to the nations around them. He must be coming soon, right?
But what was God’s next move? Silence. From the end of the Old Testament to the beginning of the New Testament, we have no prophetic record. Complete prophetic silence. I’d like to think that, at least in part, this was due to the Jews finally figuring out how to live as God’s chosen people without man-made institutions and without the former ups and downs of their faithfulness to God. But there are a couple historical events that impact the world and prepare it for the coming Messiah: First, the passionate defense of the integrity of God’s temple against Antioch Epiphanes, who had desecrated the temple by sacrificing a pig there. This led to the rise of the Herodian dynasty. Second, the Jews began working on translating their writings into the Greek language that Alexander the Great and his successors had spread throughout the Mediterranean region and points east, making it the universal language of the day, so that God’s word could spread far and wide in the common tongue of the day. Jesus is coming, and finally, the work is done, and the time has come for the Messiah to be born.
And so we come to the gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus. Matthew and Luke record genealogies of Jesus; Matthew from Joseph’s line, and Luke from Mary’s line. John connects Jesus to the imagery of light from Isaiah’s prophecy, and Mark dispenses with all that and jumps straight to the ministry of Jesus. All the gospel writers in their own unique styles either connect the OT prophecies to Jesus or put the words of those prophecies in Jesus’s mouth and he lets people know he’s come to fulfill them. As Jesus ministers, he gathers a group of disciples around him who will carry on his ministry. He’s given them hints about his coming death and the persecution of his followers, but they never really quite get to full understanding of that until after he rises from the dead.
Before we get to Jesus’s words in today’s passage in Matthew 24, Jesus paints a grim picture of the end times: wars and rumors of war, famine, earthquake, persecution, “the abomination that causes desolation,” and other “dreadful” conditions that cause people to fear and lose hope. But in vs. 36 and following, Jesus begins to make it plain that whatever will happen, whether in the short-term or long-term, has implications further down the road for the consummation of history.
The purpose of Jesus’s first coming and his ministry was to “train the trainers” on how to live in the New Covenant he will establish upon his death, and what life will be like depending on the Spirit of God that’s to be given to all who believe, not just to the prophets or priests. And of course, his shed blood on the cross is what establishes that covenant. Jesus draws on Ezekiel’s prophecy here by calling them to be watchful. They may not know when he’s returning, but they should be able to recognize the signs. So for us, we know Jesus is coming again, but there’s still work to be done, sharing the Gospel with a lost world that desperately needs the eternal hope that God has purchased for us with the death and resurrection of his son. Just as the patriarchs and prophets of old looked forward to the first coming of the Messiah, so we who are alive today look forward to his second coming. God’s people have never lived without the hope of a coming Messiah! The darkness seems to grow more powerful every day, but we have the power as children of light to dispel the darkness and proclaim that hope by being a shining city on a hill.
When day is night,
Darkness is honored as light
And wrong is deemed as right.
When no one is shocked
That God is mocked
And our foundations are rocked.
When war is peace
And the greedy feast
On the lies of men
Who ignore the Ten
Commandments meant to bring us life
So our lot is only pain and strife.
When the tools of power
Are the delicate flowers
Who are pawns in a game
That has no shame.
“When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.”[2]
Then Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus and establish your eternal kingdom and us in our eternal home. Hallelujah and Amen!
[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.
[2] Shakespeare, William. 1914. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Edited by W. J. Craig. London; Edinburgh; Glasgow; New York; Toronto; Melbourne; Bombay: Humphrey Milford; Oxford University Press.
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