Today’s scripture from Mark can be difficult to hear.  There is purpose and rhythm to the church calendar - the church calendar has a noticeable pattern: Advent and preparations for the coming Messiah; Christmas and the birth of Christ; then we shift to Jesus' earthly ministry, his teachings, and healings, and before we know it, Lent has arrived; then Easter with the glorious celebration that the sting of death is no more, Hell has lost its victory. But the year is not over at Easter. We continue through what is known as ordinary time until we take a distinguished shift on All Saints Day and look to the eschatological – the cosmic, end of times – the reign of Christ, what happens when this world as we know it ends.  We are closing in on the end of the church calendar year. As we prepare for Christ the King Sunday, our scripture reading has taken a noticeable turn. The reign of Jesus Christ is what the church proclaims week after week, and it is what our confirmands will do next Sunday when they confirm their baptismal vows or are baptized.

It is hard not to become uncomfortable when we get to this time of year, with Jesus predicting the destruction of the temple and war among nations and kingdoms, earthquakes, and famine.  

Suppose you are like me, then you get squirmy when Jesus talks apocalyptic when the gospels look beyond feel-good Jesus toward the eschaton. Many prefer Jesus to be a moral teacher, dispensing moral platitudes we can use to teach our kids to be good people. Many prefer Jesus as the example of how to care for the poor and the sick. At the same time, others prefer Jesus to be their weekly spiritual boost, not unlike an add-in at your local smoothie shop. A weekly shot of Jesus will cure what ails you.

Don't get me wrong, I much prefer Jesus' Sermon on the Mount to this sermon on the destruction of the temple. But suppose we continue to speak only of peace and love when Jesus clearly predicted conflict and catastrophe. In that case, retired Episcopal priest and theological Beyonce Rev. Fleming Rutledge is correct in her assertion that we are refusing to hear a substantial part of Jesus' message. It is hard for those of us who live relatively comfortable and privileged lives to find Good News in Jesus' words because Jesus' flipping of the world could mean loss of standing and comfort for us. Are Jesus' words in Mark 13 good news or bad? I guess it depends on where you are and when you receive Jesus' apocalyptic news.

My mentor recalls a mission trip to Honduras each time he hears Jesus' words in Mark 13. While running a makeshift health clinic in San Marco, a group of students had the idea to share their favorite Bible verses around the campfire after a day's work. I am sure you can imagine the passages that were shared over the sounds of wood crackling. "For God so loved the world…." John 3:16. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…." Psalm 23. The story takes a shift when a Honduran woman shares Mark 13: Not one stone left on stone, war, earthquakes, and famine. She said Mark 13 always brings her comfort.

Wait, what?!

Comfort?

You should have seen the way you squirmed after giving thanks to God for today's scripture reading. Mark 13 is a far departure from my mainline, educated, somewhat responsible view of Jesus. My mentor discovered this Honduran woman gave birth five times yet lost three children to malnutrition. To hear that Jesus is going to dismantle the world and preservation of the status quo is of no interest to God, frankly, gets me uncomfortable. After all, I have a roof over my head, the church pays me a fine salary with excellent health insurance, and my future looks to be reasonably bright. But what my mentor points out is that Jesus' talk of disruption is gospel good news because, for this woman in San Marco, her status quo has been a living hell.

The gospel's accounting for sadness and brokenness and the world's wickedness is one of the reasons the gospel makes sense. When the New Testament speaks of the Kingdom of God, the word often used is tribulation. Tribulation is not ordinary suffering. Tribulation, in the biblical sense, points beyond itself to the coming triumph of the Lord. This is a kingdom reigned over by Christ, where the last things produce hope, not despair; confidence, not fear. Hope and confidence that the sadness and brokenness that we are pained to see with our own eyes, sadness and brokenness that we experience, sadness and brokenness that others live day in and day out, does not outlast God's kingdom.

Dismantling this world is frightening.  But in Mark 13 Jesus describes a dismantling to realize God’s justice and love for all of creation.  God’s redemption and transformation of this broken world is good news for all; the comfort and privilege for which we work and to which we cling instantly pale in the light of God’s justice and love.

Fleming put it best, "No suffering can be properly understood until the Lord comes – but he will come. God is accomplishing his purposes in spite of all appearances to the contrary. Nothing can lie beyond the power of God to redeem and transform. We believe this because we have been seized by the unique authority of the voice of Jesus Christ."

Knowing God will get the last word, our acts of mercy and justice, along with our communal acts of faithfulness, become signs of the God Kingdom – Queendom, Kin-dom – that is yet to come.