Sermons for the Month

A Peek at the Ending
DATE: February 10, 2002
TEXT: Matthew 17:1-9
“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN

The way I glue myself back together at the end of a hectic day is by curling up with a good book. The rest of the family knows that if Mom doesn't get her daily dose of escape into a captivating fictional world, she's not going to be very happy; and as we all know, "If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!"

For Christmas, my guys gave me a copy of "The Fiery Cross," newly-published Book #5 in Diana Gabaldon's "Outlander" series, and since then I've been happily immersed in the continuing saga of Claire, the 20th century Englishwoman who accidentally falls two centuries into the past, meets the handsome and brave Scotsman who becomes the love of her life, loses him, finds him again, and accompanies him to colonial America on the eve of the Revolution. This volume alone is 900+ pages of adventure, heroism, triumph and tragedy; and since on a typical day my reading time doesn't start till 10:00 p.m. or thereabouts, it's been slow going, or to look at it another way, the book is lasting a deliciously long time. I'm in no rush, because I enjoy the characters and the writing style; and besides, as is my habit, I've already read the last chapter so I know how it's going to turn out!

"How can you DO that?" my husband asks in horror. "Doesn't that just RUIN the suspense?" I confess, reluctantly, because I think it's a sign of middle-aging, that everyday LIFE has just about as much SUSPENSE as I can stand. Which major appliance will be the next to expire? Will the old roof last until the new furnace is paid for? What is the doctor/dentist going to find THIS time? What school project involving what nearly-impossible-to-find supplies will my son discover tonight that he needs by tomorrow morning? When they break into regular programming for a "special alert," what tragedy, devastation, or heartache will I learn of THIS time?

Nope, I don't need any disappointments, don't need any unpleasant surprises in what is supposed to be my leisure time, my little vacation from reality. I don't need to spend hundreds of pages and hours of my free time getting emotionally involved, not even with fictional characters, unless I know that we're all going to make it to the end of the book with love and goodness triumphant! Because I've taken a peek at the ending, I can enjoy the story.

Once, long ago, Peter, James, and John were given a gift by God for which each of us yearns from time to time -- a peek ahead to the end of the story. These three men and gotten involved emotionally, spiritually, financially, and every which way with the man from Nazareth who had looked them in the eye and said, "Follow me!" For the most part, things had gone really well. Teaching, healing, feeding, raising from the dead -- Jesus had done it all. The crowds kept growing, they were astonished, they were cheering, and Peter, James, and John were eyewitnesses to the unfolding of this tremendous story.

But a change was coming, as Jesus was about to turn his face and his footsteps toward Jerusalem. Now there would be confrontations and increasing resistance; many in the cheering crowds would drift quietly away; already Jesus was preparing himself and trying to prepare his disciples for disappointments, danger, and death. Peter and the others tried to brush off Jesus' warnings, tried to deny it, as would we, but suffering and sorrow and grief and pain would be a part of the story too -- an inescapable part, an ugly reality of the story of what happened when God came to us as one of us.

But on one particular day, God in His goodness gives us a glimpse of the end of the story. He allows us to see in a moment of time that in Jesus, just as human and mortal as you or I, dwells all the majestic and utterly awesome glory of Almighty God; shows us that Jesus, the carpenter from Galilee, is the fulfillment and the pledge of all God's faithful promises; shows us that through Jesus, the Christ, the ending of this world's story, and the ending of your story and of mine, will be GOOD -- because the ending will be God's.

The three men who were there that day truly did not understand fully at the time what they were witnessing, but they never forgot it, and they left for us their story. Peter, nearing the end of his life on earth, wrote these words: "we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty…" and he goes on to say, "I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things."

Well -- O.K. Mission accomplished. We've remembered. So what? So now we can leave and be on about our business, because God has everything under control? Well, yes, sort of -- and no, not exactly! Yes, we can go on with our everyday lives, the happiness and the hassles, the suspense, the surprises, knowing that because God is in charge, all will be well.But life is never quite "business as usual" when we know that God is in charge.

When I look ahead far enough to know that the story I'm reading will really turn out O.K., then I'm free to lose myself in the characters, and the twists of the plot, and when the author seemingly has written herself into a corner, the suspense is in wondering, "How in the world is she going to get them out of this one?" knowing that she will, because she's the author and it's her story. Knowing the end of the story, REALLY knowing and trusting that all of the characters and plot lines of our lives and of this great wide world will in the end be crafted together by God into something better than just "O.K.", reworked and recreated into something absolutely glorious -- that allows us to jump on in, to commit OURSELVES to the adventure, to share in the struggle, to take on the tasks, and to look forward in expectation.

Knowing the end of the story makes it possible for us to "hang in" through the tough times, the scary and suspenseful scenes. When my big boy was just a little boy, we took him to see his first feature film, Disney's "The Little Mermaid." He was enchanted with the big screen, the b-I-I-g sound, the popcorn, the colorful "under the sea" singing and dancing creatures. And then about three-quarters of the way through the movie, when things began to look bad for Ariel and her prince, when the sea witch Ursula filled the screen with thunder and lightning, wind and waves, and her horrible, cackling, triumphant laughter, I noticed my small son sliding lower and lower in his seat, popcorn abandoned on the floor, and then suddenly he hopped into my lap and whispered urgently, "Mommy, let's go home! Let's go home right now!"

Having seen my share of Disney movies, I hugged him close to me and whispered back, "I know it's pretty scary right now, but if we hang in here just a little longer, I really think it's going to turn out good." Having seen a share of God's story, and having the witness of some who have already seen the ending, we reassure one another with a comforting embrace and the reminder that even though life gets unsettled, stormy, frightful -- even when it looks as though evil just might triumph this time, we "hang in there" because we know it's going to be worked out by God for His own glory, and for our good.

It was not by accident that the Church long, long ago chose to celebrate Jesus' birth during the coldest, darkest days of the year, reminding us that the Light of God has come into the gloomiest corners of a world shadowed by sin and its consequences. It was not by accident that the story of Jesus shining with divine glory is read in the Church on this day, on the last Sunday of the Epiphany season in which we have continued to celebrate the coming of the Light.

In a few days, we too will turn our face and our footsteps toward Jerusalem, and follow Jesus along the path that leads to a cross. The people of God now prepare to enter the season of Lent, in which we are challenged to get honest, to confess how very, very short we fall of the life for which God created us. In Lent, we are called to spend more time with Jesus, so that His own perfect power, goodness, and love might transform us and cause us to shine with His light.

But that's another sermon, for another day. For today, we celebrate the glimpse of glory we are given; and knowing the journey's end, knowing the One who IS the beginning and the Ending and who holds us at every step along the way, we go forward in confidence, with trust in the glory and goodness of God which He shows us in Jesus Christ. We go forward secure within his grace, and with peace in abundance, knowing that we live out our stories within His story, and that the ending of His story will be good.

AMEN