Is Left Behind Right? - 11/06/05
Matthew 25:1-13
So there I was, all 5 feet and 12 years old of me. There I was, standing and looking out in disbelief at a long highway, and being sideswiped with a panic the size of the unrecognized horizon. There I was, left behind ...by a church bus. It happened on a youth mission trip. Very possibly it was on the trip we took up to Missouri to try and convert some of you "show-me heathens." We Oklahomans always looked on this eastern boarder state with some suspicion. Too much of a French connection, I suspect.
So there I was, looking out at an empty highway, feeling swallowed by an anxiety that my young life had never experienced. I was at a filling station, and the bus had vanished. It was just one short trip to the bathroom. I didn't linger. Knowing me I probably didn't even wash my hands. How could they have left me? Didn't somebody notice I wasn't there? I know I'm not the most popular kid in the youth group, but would they actually have forgotten me?
Abandonment - being left behind. It has happened to most of us, we all have experienced that torrid emotion - knowing that your presence, your company, your particular person, is not required or even desired. Maybe it was a spouse who left you in divorce or death. Or maybe it was a job which left you behind in a downsize. Or a parent, a child, a life-sustaining friend who went away to that undiscovered country too soon. Or (as in my case) maybe a denomination that left behind some principles you know are essentially Christian. We have all had our heart scrunched under the lead-weight of abandonment.
Jesus taps into this common human pang. And in this parable he uses an example of it, to talk about the kingdom of God. In telling this story, he was touching on a regular theme of human life: we all get left behind and left out.
The story is simple. There were five virgins who caught the bus, and five who did not. Five who were prepared, five who got shut out because they were not. Jesus calls them foolish and wise. Robert Farrar Capon suggests that the foolish virgins were foolish because they thought it mattered whether or not they had oil. When what really mattered is that they were there when the bridegroom arrived. It's their presence that matters, not what they have with them.
I think he is right and I think this helps inform what Jesus means by his command to: "keep awake, for you do not know the hour." Let's rephrase that. You do not know, so keep awake. It's interesting, don't you think, that Jesus tells a story about five wise women, and then says that wisdom has little to do with what you KNOW? The wise ones knew they didn't know. They didn't know when the bridegroom would come. So they kept looking, kept attentive, and were imaginative enough to know that they might need extra oil, because they didn't know. What they did know, was that their relationship to the bridegroom was paramount. So they stayed close, knowing that even if their oil ran out, they would be there - waiting faithfully for the bridegroom to come along.
So there I was on the side of that highway, waiting for certain death. For if some band of motorcycle riders didn't kill me, I was sure my parents would - assuming I was ever found again. I remember my wide eyes, and my beating chest. And I remember that sense of abandonment, something that up to that point in my young and protected life, I had never experienced. There was the one time, when I came close. It was my first time to experience a California beach. I was probably 7 and I had a small board - like a very small surf board. I would run it out, and ride it back. Run it out, and ride it back. I did this over and over and over - having so much fun that I never noticed that each time I rode the waves they were not only taking me back to the beach, they were taking back down the beach. And so after about 350 times (or so) I looked up, wanting my parents to see how adept I was getting at this board and they had moved. And not just my folks but the entire beach had just picked up a moved.
But before panic ever had a chance to get its cold hands around my heart, it was interrupted by a painful grip on my arm. I looked up and there was a very angry mother - mine, unfortunately. Well, not really - it's just that for someone who was glad to find her only son, she had a funny way of proving it. "Don't you ever... don't you realize that people in California are crazy - even worse than Missourians..." I have since seen that mixture of anger, love and relief on more than one parent's face.
The difference between the wise and the foolish? NOT that the wise knew the hour, nor that they could predict what would happen in the future. The wise knew they didn't know, and so they acted accordingly.
Beware of those who try to tell you they know. They don't. Anymore than those who calculated the world would end in 1988, forty years after Israel's founding. Anymore than did the Taborites of Bohemia who predicted that the world was sure to end in 1420, anymore than those many who predicted that the capture of old Jerusalem from Arab forces in 1967, anymore than did a famous Italien monk (Joachim of Fiore) in 1260.
A small empire has been started by those capitalizing on the idea of imagining the fate of those left behind. This not-so-small cottage industry is also tapping into our abandonment fears. But not to such productive ends. Sony is directly marketing to churches a new "left behind" movie. The books have sold millions upon millions.
Did you hear Paul's encouragement in 1 Thess. 4? "Do not grieve as others who have no hope." Paul assumes we will grieve - grief is part and parcel of being alive. We are right to grieve at death AND at the shape of the world. Jesus' second beatitude: blessed are those who mourn. But neither of those kinds of grievings should be done without hope. I appreciated what James Howell writes in last week's Christian Century:
"In LaHaye's (Left Behind) fiction those who grieve are those who have no hope; they discover that they did not listen to the preacher who told them they could be caught up in the air, and now they are stuck on earth - and so they grieve. Believers on the other hand do not grieve at all. With immense satisfaction they relish having flown away just in the nick of time. As horrors unfold on earth, they lick their chops..." (CC, Nov. 1, 05)
Please see what Paul teaches in the epistle. Don't be uninformed, the facts are simple. Those who die are in the presence of Christ and will be with us when we all are summoned to heaven. End of story. Encourage one another with those words: we will all be gathered together with Christ. Nothing here about a seven year tribulation, empty cars flying over bridges, and Paul provides no silly timelines. And the theme of the end times is encouragement, not fright. It is hope, not delight at the destruction of the world.
It's all overwhelmingly simple. Your life will end - who knows when, but it will happen. And the world will end - who knows when, but it will happen. Be prepared for both. Be frightened of neither. Because as soon as you look around and the world has changed by death or destruction, an arm will grab you and let you know that wherever you are and whenever you are, it's OK, because God is already there. Encourage yourself with these words of hope.
Because you are God's child, God is incapable of leaving you behind. Our panic comes because we are looking in the wrong direction, not keeping our eyes on our Divine Parent. We so easily forget that wisdom is not in knowing when or what, wisdom is in loving the infinite Who and the mysterious why. The who is God, who is already there when you get to tomorrow. The why is because God loves you - unaccountably, unconditionally, and mysteriously.
And so there I was, looking out at an empty highway, and this time the panic set in, and for a few seconds I knew that I would never see my parents or friends again. I would try to live on honey buns, ding dongs, and coke for as long as my money would hold out, but that I would probably just wither up an die right there at that truck-stop. And just as the tears were beginning to form, I saw the strangest thing. There was a friend - wait, why was he here too, was he left behind with me?! No, he was walking .... toward the bus - the bus parked on the wrong side of the station. The bus that was there the entire few milliseconds of my panic. The bus, which would have never left me, even if I had taken time to wash my hands. The bus I couldn't see, because I was looking in the wrong direction.
So there I was, all 5 feet and 12 years old of me. There I was, standing and looking out in disbelief at a long highway, and being sideswiped with a panic the size of the unrecognized horizon. There I was, left behind ...by a church bus. It happened on a youth mission trip. Very possibly it was on the trip we took up to Missouri to try and convert some of you "show-me heathens." We Oklahomans always looked on this eastern boarder state with some suspicion. Too much of a French connection, I suspect.
So there I was, looking out at an empty highway, feeling swallowed by an anxiety that my young life had never experienced. I was at a filling station, and the bus had vanished. It was just one short trip to the bathroom. I didn't linger. Knowing me I probably didn't even wash my hands. How could they have left me? Didn't somebody notice I wasn't there? I know I'm not the most popular kid in the youth group, but would they actually have forgotten me?
Abandonment - being left behind. It has happened to most of us, we all have experienced that torrid emotion - knowing that your presence, your company, your particular person, is not required or even desired. Maybe it was a spouse who left you in divorce or death. Or maybe it was a job which left you behind in a downsize. Or a parent, a child, a life-sustaining friend who went away to that undiscovered country too soon. Or (as in my case) maybe a denomination that left behind some principles you know are essentially Christian. We have all had our heart scrunched under the lead-weight of abandonment.
Jesus taps into this common human pang. And in this parable he uses an example of it, to talk about the kingdom of God. In telling this story, he was touching on a regular theme of human life: we all get left behind and left out.
The story is simple. There were five virgins who caught the bus, and five who did not. Five who were prepared, five who got shut out because they were not. Jesus calls them foolish and wise. Robert Farrar Capon suggests that the foolish virgins were foolish because they thought it mattered whether or not they had oil. When what really mattered is that they were there when the bridegroom arrived. It's their presence that matters, not what they have with them.
I think he is right and I think this helps inform what Jesus means by his command to: "keep awake, for you do not know the hour." Let's rephrase that. You do not know, so keep awake. It's interesting, don't you think, that Jesus tells a story about five wise women, and then says that wisdom has little to do with what you KNOW? The wise ones knew they didn't know. They didn't know when the bridegroom would come. So they kept looking, kept attentive, and were imaginative enough to know that they might need extra oil, because they didn't know. What they did know, was that their relationship to the bridegroom was paramount. So they stayed close, knowing that even if their oil ran out, they would be there - waiting faithfully for the bridegroom to come along.
So there I was on the side of that highway, waiting for certain death. For if some band of motorcycle riders didn't kill me, I was sure my parents would - assuming I was ever found again. I remember my wide eyes, and my beating chest. And I remember that sense of abandonment, something that up to that point in my young and protected life, I had never experienced. There was the one time, when I came close. It was my first time to experience a California beach. I was probably 7 and I had a small board - like a very small surf board. I would run it out, and ride it back. Run it out, and ride it back. I did this over and over and over - having so much fun that I never noticed that each time I rode the waves they were not only taking me back to the beach, they were taking back down the beach. And so after about 350 times (or so) I looked up, wanting my parents to see how adept I was getting at this board and they had moved. And not just my folks but the entire beach had just picked up a moved.
But before panic ever had a chance to get its cold hands around my heart, it was interrupted by a painful grip on my arm. I looked up and there was a very angry mother - mine, unfortunately. Well, not really - it's just that for someone who was glad to find her only son, she had a funny way of proving it. "Don't you ever... don't you realize that people in California are crazy - even worse than Missourians..." I have since seen that mixture of anger, love and relief on more than one parent's face.
The difference between the wise and the foolish? NOT that the wise knew the hour, nor that they could predict what would happen in the future. The wise knew they didn't know, and so they acted accordingly.
Beware of those who try to tell you they know. They don't. Anymore than those who calculated the world would end in 1988, forty years after Israel's founding. Anymore than did the Taborites of Bohemia who predicted that the world was sure to end in 1420, anymore than those many who predicted that the capture of old Jerusalem from Arab forces in 1967, anymore than did a famous Italien monk (Joachim of Fiore) in 1260.
A small empire has been started by those capitalizing on the idea of imagining the fate of those left behind. This not-so-small cottage industry is also tapping into our abandonment fears. But not to such productive ends. Sony is directly marketing to churches a new "left behind" movie. The books have sold millions upon millions.
Did you hear Paul's encouragement in 1 Thess. 4? "Do not grieve as others who have no hope." Paul assumes we will grieve - grief is part and parcel of being alive. We are right to grieve at death AND at the shape of the world. Jesus' second beatitude: blessed are those who mourn. But neither of those kinds of grievings should be done without hope. I appreciated what James Howell writes in last week's Christian Century:
"In LaHaye's (Left Behind) fiction those who grieve are those who have no hope; they discover that they did not listen to the preacher who told them they could be caught up in the air, and now they are stuck on earth - and so they grieve. Believers on the other hand do not grieve at all. With immense satisfaction they relish having flown away just in the nick of time. As horrors unfold on earth, they lick their chops..." (CC, Nov. 1, 05)
Please see what Paul teaches in the epistle. Don't be uninformed, the facts are simple. Those who die are in the presence of Christ and will be with us when we all are summoned to heaven. End of story. Encourage one another with those words: we will all be gathered together with Christ. Nothing here about a seven year tribulation, empty cars flying over bridges, and Paul provides no silly timelines. And the theme of the end times is encouragement, not fright. It is hope, not delight at the destruction of the world.
It's all overwhelmingly simple. Your life will end - who knows when, but it will happen. And the world will end - who knows when, but it will happen. Be prepared for both. Be frightened of neither. Because as soon as you look around and the world has changed by death or destruction, an arm will grab you and let you know that wherever you are and whenever you are, it's OK, because God is already there. Encourage yourself with these words of hope.
Because you are God's child, God is incapable of leaving you behind. Our panic comes because we are looking in the wrong direction, not keeping our eyes on our Divine Parent. We so easily forget that wisdom is not in knowing when or what, wisdom is in loving the infinite Who and the mysterious why. The who is God, who is already there when you get to tomorrow. The why is because God loves you - unaccountably, unconditionally, and mysteriously.
And so there I was, looking out at an empty highway, and this time the panic set in, and for a few seconds I knew that I would never see my parents or friends again. I would try to live on honey buns, ding dongs, and coke for as long as my money would hold out, but that I would probably just wither up an die right there at that truck-stop. And just as the tears were beginning to form, I saw the strangest thing. There was a friend - wait, why was he here too, was he left behind with me?! No, he was walking .... toward the bus - the bus parked on the wrong side of the station. The bus that was there the entire few milliseconds of my panic. The bus, which would have never left me, even if I had taken time to wash my hands. The bus I couldn't see, because I was looking in the wrong direction.
<< Home