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.”
This part of Mark’s story of Jesus – sometimes called “the little apocalypse” (as opposed to a “big” apocalypse like Revelation, I suppose) – concludes with a call to watchfulness. No one knows the hour, Jesus tells us, so be on the watch, keep alert, keep awake.
Distinct groups of Christians over the ages have taken these words as an injunction not only to keep alert in the sense of living a life worthy of their calling, but also to watch quite literally, trying to interpret this and other passages to predict the time of Jesus’ coming. Indeed, in recent decades we have been inundated by predictions about Jesus coming, from Hal Lindsey in the seventies to Harold Camping a year ago. Each reads Mark, Revelation, Daniel and the rest searching for clues to a divine timetable and calendar.
Thus far, of course, each has apparently misread the signs or, some would argue, misunderstood the intent of these passages altogether. In fact, many scholars suggest that these promises were never intended to be specific but instead point to a much distant and indeterminate future. Disappointed by Jesus’ failure to come in power immediately, the argument runs, early Christians projected their hopes onto a distant horizon.
On one level, I agree. There is little doubt that some of the promises included in the various gospel stories are intended to orient us to Christ’s return and God’s eventual triumph at the end of time. Nevertheless, I also think Mark is, indeed, seeding his account with clues for us about where to look to see Jesus come in glory. And I think we can decipher those clues with some accuracy if we read with care. I just don’t look quite as far forward as Lindsey, Camping and the rest.
Pay attention, for a moment, to the details of the brief parable Jesus tells in this, the last scene Mark records until he starts his account of Jesus’ passion: You do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn. Now look ahead with me briefly to the structure of the passion story Mark is about to tell. The first part occurs at evening, as Jesus gathers with his disciples to share a last meal. The next movement happens at midnight, as Jesus is betrayed in Gethsemane. Then comes cockcrow, when Peter denies his Lord, just as Jesus anticipated. Finally we arrive at dawn, where Jesus is tried and found guilty not once, but twice, as both the religious and secular authorities call for his death.
In this parable, I believe, Jesus is inviting us to look to the cross as that time when he comes in glory and power. Yet his glory is disclosed in absolute service and his power is revealed in utter vulnerability. Here is where Jesus came…and where he still comes, meeting us in our moments of service, need, and vulnerability, for this is when, stripped of our usual illusions and trappings, we are revealed for what we are – God’s beloved children, nothing more, nothing less.
Jesus’ identity, mission, purpose, and destiny, according to Mark’s Gospel, are all revealed most clearly in the cross, and although we have no idea when he will come again, yet we have the promise that the one who comes in judgment at the end of time will be the same one who came in mercy, love, and forgiveness on the cross.
Mark concludes this part of his story – a section so filled with apocalyptic imagery and symbolism – with this parable in order to orient us to, and ground us in, the cross. The cross that his whole story points to, the cross that discloses for us the nature of the vulnerable God, the cross that tells us once and forever that God loves us enough to die for us that we might know that we are worthy, beloved, enough. Thanks be to God.
Prayer: Dear God, keep our eyes fastened on your Son as he journeys to the cross that we might discover our inherent worth in your sacrificial love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
David,
I had never read this connection before! Wow! Good job.
So powerful (and empowering)!