It's a Mystery
The matters and experiences of one’s life can be mystifying sometimes. Not always: we seek order and want things to make sense, so sometimes our impression is, life is orderly. In those times, we recognize purpose. This sense of order is not likely to last. Any number of things introduce what feels like chaos. Our personal circumstances can go out of kilter; things in the broader context can be in turmoil. We are vulnerable to illness, injury, danger, and loss. These bring about suffering.
Making sense of things when things have turned disastrous is impossible. At times we sense purpose in life but live in a world of many agendas. Often others are at cross purpose with our hopes. Moreover, we wonder what God is up to within things happening in our world. Which things are the result of human action, and amid those, how might God intervene? Would it surprise you to know that I do not have any of that figured out?
I am pondering these huge questions, because I am reading ahead toward the scriptures coming up for this Sunday’s worship. Our short passage from the Book of Daniel is mystifying indeed, and the words of Jesus in our Gospel lesson are quite perplexing too. The broad description of both situations is that life is full of danger and threat, and still, we are to rely on the mercy of God and trust in no other.
Jesus tells his disciples that even something as grand, beautiful, and lasting as the Herodian Temple in Jerusalem will not last under the power of Rome. He implies within this ominous foretelling that God’s deeper purpose is nonetheless intact:
Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”… For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.” (Mark 13:2, 8)
The implication is that the natural disasters and human turmoil will get attention to be sure, as it always does. He wants them to know that what God plans to bring to birth is not in those things, but in spite of them. God’s purpose is still to come. What God is up to, when and how it will come about: we know very little about this, which is extremely hard for us.
Everything about the Book of Daniel is difficult. The name of the hero, Daniel, is borrowed from a Canaanite king, Ugaritic epics from fourteenth and thirteenth centuries BCE. The narrative drama of the Hebrew story is set in the sixth century BCE, having to do with the Babylonian captivity. Even so, the apocalyptic sections of the book are written in the second century BCE in the context of Syrian-Greek attacks on Jerusalem by the ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes. The book is written in awkward Hebrew for its beginning and end, but the middle chapters are written in Aramaic, the common language of the Near East during the Persian and early Hellenistic periods.
Yes, the book is something of a puzzle, but the section we will read on Sunday is an encouragement and reassurance that God is strong to deliver. Apocalyptic vision when it comes in scripture is born in the bleakest of circumstances. The spark of hope that could not be expected is ignited and comes as surprise in the darkest time:
The Lord spoke to Daniel in a vision and said, “At that time Michael, the great prince, the protector of your people, shall arise. There shall be a time of anguish, such as has never occurred since nations first came into existence. But at that time your people shall be delivered, everyone who is found written in the book. Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever.” (Daniel 12:1-3)
The voice of the Holy Scriptures sounds out, time and time again, with encouragement to hang on during the worst circumstances. We are not given much about how deliverance will come, or any of the details we most want to know, but we are urged to trust. We are to hang on and stay close to God in every way we know to try. In our lives we often come to ask, “What is the world coming to?” or “How will I ever survive this?” Whenever I ask this, I want the answer to be precise and detailed. Every time, however, I get something different. The record of faith, and the spiritual guides that encourage me direct me to stay close to Jesus. The miseries of the present experience will transition in time to the mercy, joy, and peace that God means to come about.