A Time to Sit Down and a Time to Rise Up

The minute someone calls you and asks whether you’re sitting down, you know that the news is either bad or extremely surprising. It isn’t wise to take shocking news standing up. I’ve seen people fall to the floor and crawl into a fetal position in response to something distressing. Your heart rate increases. Your head spins. You wonder whether you’ll pass out. Some news is best received sitting down.

After the past few emotionally charged weeks, it feels as if we all need to sit down for a bit. We need to sit down, breathe, and collect our thoughts. Perhaps we should talk a bit less and listen a lot more. It doesn’t matter what side of the political spectrum you’re on. The fact is that we’re all in for a lot of change in the near future, and none of us really knows what things will look like a year from now. There’s far too much prognostication in the media, which is less than helpful. Everyone has a theory about the past, and too many have predictions about the future. But regardless of where you stand politically and how you voted, we’re probably all a bit surprised about our current situation. And that should be deeply humbling. It’s time to sit down for a while.

It’s not so strange that Jesus and his disciples are sitting down on the Mount of Olives when he describes the demise of the Jerusalem Temple in graphic detail. The disciples have no sooner marveled at the majesty of the Temple than Jesus bursts their bubble. It will all be thrown down. Can you hear the disciples’ thoughts? Thanks, Jesus. Couldn’t I have had one more minute to marvel at this wonder of the world? But Jesus gives the disciples no time. The fall of the Temple was an unimaginable tragedy of epic proportions. The Temple was the center of the disciples’ spiritual universe, where God was believed to be most vividly present. It was the place of true worship, and so, to imagine that it would one day no longer exist is news that can only be taken sitting down.

After sitting down, the disciples want to know when all this will happen. This is the age-old question. When will these things take place? It’s a horrible thing to know that destruction is in the future but not to know when it will occur. The disciples can hardly wrap their heads around a future without the Jerusalem Temple.

But Jesus isn’t finished with the bad news. False prophets will arise. They’ll claim to be the Messiah, saying I am he, certainly a blasphemous riff on the Divine Name, I AM. They will deceive people. Horrible things will happen, and it will seem as if the world is about to end. But don’t be alarmed, Jesus says. Those things are only the beginning. Imagine the disciples’ thoughts once again. Well, thanks a million, Jesus. Do you have any good news for us? So, it's a good thing the disciples are sitting down. How could they not be alarmed? The world they know is about to end. Jesus’s words must have been small comfort to the disciples, whose heads were undoubtedly spinning.

I hope you’re sitting down these days when you read your daily news. To some, it seems as if the world as we know it is about to end. I’ve met more than one person in recent years who’s convinced the end times are upon us. Things don’t sound too far removed from Jesus’s description of the final days. Wars continue to rage. The Middle East is in crisis. The worldwide economy is uncertain. Our own national discourse is in shambles. Nations rage against nations. There’ve been earthquakes and hurricanes and wildfires, and there will be others as our planet’s climate becomes more unstable. I hope you’re sitting down, because Jesus says this is only the beginning.

But there’s something else about the posture of Jesus and his disciples as he breaks this astounding news to them. While it’s a good thing that they’re sitting down to process the shocking news, Jesus is sitting down with them because he’s teaching. It’s the classic posture of a teacher in ancient times. He sits and teaches. Jesus and the disciples are sitting directly across from Jerusalem. They can marvel at its majesty. They can hear its hustle and bustle. They can feel God’s presence in the holiest place on earth. Now, as they gaze upon its beauty and ponder its destruction, Jesus sits and teaches. And the disciples sit and listen.

Picking up from where today’s passage ends, Jesus will go on to describe the cataclysmic events that will take place. But the time of that final hour isn’t for us to know, despite years of arrogant and futile predictions. Knowing the future isn’t so important. What’s important is being in the present moment, sitting down, and listening to Christ, our Teacher.

I wish we’d kept reading beyond the end of today’s Gospel, because just a few verses later, Jesus says something remarkable. I believe his words are the good news we should receive today in this moment when our future seems so uncertain. Hear his words: “when they bring you to trial and deliver you up, do not be anxious beforehand what you are to say; but say whatever is given you in that hour, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit.” Wow. It’s worth sitting down for that news, too.

At this very moment, the world outside the Church has very little good news to share. Very few people, regardless of their political stance, believe that things should or will stay the same. The state of our world seems unpredictable and beyond our control. Social media has compounded our tendency to talk too much. Much of what’s on the television and internet is hyperbolized beyond belief. In a supposedly more sophisticated time, our ability to speak and think with nuance has winnowed away. And because we’ve put too much trust in people and agendas and institutions outside the Church, we’re shattered when those golden calves let us down. But the truth is that they never could do what they initially promised, and so, it’s easy to see only disaster in our future. We need to sit down to cope with it.

So, we should sit down, stop talking and arguing, and listen. Now is a precious moment for the Church. If the Church is living into her vocation, she won’t be taught by the world but by God. She’ll sit down in the face of worldly predictions of disaster, perhaps stunned but also trusting that all isn’t lost. We’re in desperate need of teaching by God. Through the mighty power of the Holy Spirit, the risen Christ is still our true Teacher. And it’s time for us to be his students.

At some point, as our nation and our world try to sort themselves out, we as Christ’s living body on earth will need to act. We don’t yet know what crises we’ll face. We don’t know what kind of trials we’ll have to weather. We don’t know in what ways the Church’s mettle will be tested. But we do know this: Jesus tells us not to be alarmed, even when our world seems to be falling apart. Jesus tells us not to be distracted by false prophets, charlatan messiahs, and dramatic naysayers. And Jesus tells us that in our hour of need, the Holy Spirit will show us exactly what to do. In the meantime, the Church needs to be strong, patient, and ready.

This is but the beginning of the birth-pangs, but don’t be alarmed. There are things we can do, and more than anything, perhaps that is comforting to us. We’ll continue to show up here, week after week, to be fed and nourished with the Body and Blood of the One who is the same, yesterday, today, and forever. We’ll come here when we’re devastated by bad news, and we’ll sit down to be taught by God. We’ll strive to model the Gospel values we profess for an aimless world. We’ll love each other with a love that transcends partisan politics. We’ll hold one another accountable to grow into spiritual maturity. We’ll say our prayers. We’ll be faithful. We’ll never give up on hope. Yes, now is the moment for the Church to listen and receive wisdom from God.

And then, when we are brought to trial and our faith is sorely tested, we’ll be ready. We’ll have been fortified by those moments of silence and listening, where we sat before the feet of our Teacher. In our hour of need, whenever it may occur and however trying it may be, the Holy Spirit will show us what to do. The Holy Spirit will give us the right words to say. The Holy Spirit will help us respond faithfully to a world that needs the Church.

But until then, we’ll sit down and pray and listen and wait. We won’t be alarmed. We’ll resist anxiety. We’ll be aware and prepared, but more than anything else, we’ll put all our hope and trust in the resurrection that’s at the heart of our faith. And because Jesus has risen from the dead in the face of death, we trust that one day, even though our world seems to be ending, we’ll no longer need to sit down. It will finally be our moment to rise up in hope.

Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Twenty-sixth Sunday after Pentecost
November 17, 2024