Tuesday 6 October 2020

Start:Stop - Keep Awake

Apocalyptic City, Ludwig Meidner, 1913

Hello and welcome to this week’s Start:Stop reflection, my name is Phillip Dawson. An audio version of this reflection can be found here.

Chapter Thirteen of Mark’s Gospel contains the longest speech on a single topic in the whole of the text. In what some call the “Markan Apocalypse,” Jesus offers a glimpse of what’s in store for his followers in the future. In the tradition of ancient apocalyptic writing, the passage ‘elasticates’ time – giving descriptions of persecution and suffering that may well have been already happening to the Christian communities to whom Mark is likely to have been writing – as well as seeming to predict events in the more distant future. But the timeline snaps back - ending firmly in the present, as Jesus explains that not even he knows when these things will come to pass – so we must all “keep awake”; the last words he speaks before his passion and death.


Bible Reading – Mark 13.32-37

“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”


Reflection

The only time I have experienced anything remotely close to the chaos and panic described in parts of the ‘Markan Apocalypse’ was on July 7th 2005 as I got off a Piccadilly Line train at Kings Cross. I didn’t realise then that 450m further down the track many people had just been killed and severely injured a result of a terrorist attack. My recollection of that moment is that time became elasticated – it seemed to stretch. People thought all the smoke and dust was coming from a fire in the station, so water bottles were being rolled down the middle of the escalator from the shops above, which seemed to bounce towards us in slow motion as we walked up. By the time I got outside, hundreds of people had congregated in the road. As I surveyed the crowd, time seemed to slow once again and at that moment my eyes met with a colleague from work – one face among hundreds. We managed to push our way towards each other and slowly discovered the horror of what had happened, as we overheard news reports and conversations on our way to work on foot.

I don’t think I am the only person for whom the perception of time seems to change when under stress. At our study group last week, someone who volunteers as a bereavement counsellor explained that in grief, the mind frequently becomes occupied with regrets about the past and anxiety about the future; perhaps as a way of distracting or providing distance from the reality of loss in the present.

The pandemic has resulted in significant loss of life – and the lockdown has changed life for most – perhaps all – of us; with many continuing to suffer from the effects of heightened anxiety. Without being able to gather for the usual celebrations at home and in church, I have found that time has once again become more elastic - at times hardly moving, then snapping forward at breakneck speed. Perhaps you have noticed something similar? One popular coping strategy has been watching ‘apocalyptic’ movies. You may not be surprised that streaming services like Amazon have capitalized on the unprecedented demand by starting to charge for apocalyptic films which, before the lockdown, were free-to-view.

Whilst many such blockbusters paint a singularly grim portrait of the future, ancient apocalyptic writings sought to provide hope - the narrative stretching across time to show that no matter how bad things seemed in the past and how much people are suffering in the present, God‘s will for the faithful shall prevail.

Mark’s apocalypse, which some believe was written at a time when Christians were being persecuted in Rome, appears to draw on Old Testament prophecies, particularly those found in Isaiah and the Book of Daniel, recounting their descriptions of persecution, earthquakes, war and natural disasters as heralding the end of the world. Perhaps this was a way of helping the first readers of the gospel to make sense of their own immediate experience - (just as commentators in our time have been looking back to previous pandemics, to gain insight into present day events). But whereas the Old Testament prophecies envisaged hope in the form of a dramatic “top down” rescue of a chosen people, the great “Messianic Secret” of Mark’s gospel is that this hope arrives not through a display of power but one of apparent powerlessness. Salvation comes not as a divine take-over of tyrannical earthly rulers but a taking-into a renewed relationship between God and all people, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

The ‘Markan Apocalypse’ ends by encouraging us not to become overwhelmed with anxieties about the future; hyperbolic and dramatic fantasies fuelled by our fears and regrets; but by calling us into relationship with Christ in the present; reminding us that, like the servants waiting for their master to return; time - like all the resources of the earth - is not ours to own, but a gift from God we are called to tend as stewards, for the good of all creation.

May we learn to set aside our anxiety about the past and our worries about the future and “keep awake” to the sacred gift that is the present moment.


Prayer

God, give me grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.
(Reinhold Niebuhr)

Amen.

Thank you for listening to this week’s Start:Stop reflection. Please do join us in church on Thursday if it is safe for you to do so. Choral Classics will be at 12.15pm followed by our Choral Eucharist at 12.45pm. I hope you enjoy each moment of the week ahead.

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