Year B, Twenty-Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
November 17, 2024
1 Samuel 1:4-20, The Song of Hannah (1 Samuel 2:1-10), Hebrews 10:11-25, Mark 13:1-8
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“Hope in Times of Uncertainty”
The Very Rev. Kathleen Murray, Rector
Historic Beckford Parish, Mt. Jackson & Woodstock
The Twenty-Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
November 17, 2024
Fifty weeks ago, we began reading Mark on the First Sunday of Advent. On that day, the text was also in Chapter 13, starting with verse 24:
Jesus said, “In those days, after that suffering the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”[1]
Today, we end the lectionary’s Mark cycle. Next week is Christ the King Sunday, with a reading from John, and then Advent begins, a season of expectation when we anticipate both the birth of Jesus and his promised return. These themes of waiting and preparing invite us to consider what it means to live as people of hope in a world that often feels consumed by despair.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus draws attention to the temple’s destruction, foretelling a time of great turmoil. He describes these events as “the beginning of the birth pangs.” It’s a striking image—destruction and pain compared to the process of labor. Yet, it is also an image brimming with hope because labor, despite its pain, leads to the miracle of new life. Jesus invites us to trust that God is working to bring forth something new, even in the darkest moments.
To understand the weight of Jesus’ words, we need to step into the shoes of his disciples. For them, the temple wasn’t just a building; it was the center of their faith, the dwelling place of God, and a symbol of their identity as a people. When Jesus predicts its destruction, it must have sounded shocking, even unthinkable.
But Jesus is preparing them for what lies ahead. Most contemporary scholars believe the Gospel of Mark was written around 70 CE, when the Roman Empire destroyed Jerusalem, including the temple. For Mark’s audience, Jesus’ prophecy wasn’t a distant possibility but a lived reality. They had experienced their community’s devastation, loss, and scattering. Yet Jesus assures his disciples that this is not the end but the beginning of something new.
This idea—that renewal often emerges from disruption—is central to the Gospel, a Gospel that we are called to proclaim in our daily lives. Just as a seed must fall to the ground and die before it can grow, we must sometimes release our old assumptions and patterns to allow God’s transformative work to unfold. Jesus uses the metaphor of birth pangs to describe the turmoil his followers will face. It’s a powerful image because it holds pain and promise in tension, reminding us that God is at work, bringing forth new life even in moments of struggle.
Throughout Scripture, birth is tied to God’s promises and acts of renewal. We hear of Hannah’s struggle to give birth, Sarah gives birth to Isaac, fulfilling God’s covenant of descendants as numerous as the stars. Elizabeth gives birth to John the Baptist, who prepares the way for Jesus. And Mary, a young woman from Nazareth, becomes the mother of the Messiah through the power of the Holy Spirit. In each of these stories, God’s promise of new life emerges in surprising and transformative ways, reminding us of the divine potential in every moment of struggle.
By likening the trials of his followers to birth pangs, Jesus assures us that our suffering is not in vain. It is part of the process through which God’s kingdom is born. As followers of Christ, we live in the tension of the “already and not yet.” God’s kingdom has already been inaugurated through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection but has not yet been fully realized. We see glimpses of it—in acts of justice, mercy, and love—but we also know the world’s brokenness. Wars rage, disasters strike, and human hearts remain inclined toward sin.
It’s easy to look at the state of the world and feel overwhelmed. Jesus himself warns of wars, earthquakes, and famines, which sound all too familiar. Yet he urges us not to be alarmed. These are not signs of the end but the beginning of birth pangs. They remind us that the story is not over and that God’s redemptive work is still unfolding.
So how do we respond to these birth pangs, both in our personal lives and as a community of faith?
How do we live faithfully in this in-between time?
How do we prepare for the coming of God’s kingdom when the timing is unknown?
First, we prepare our hearts by cultivating a deep awareness of God’s presence in our daily lives. It’s easy to get caught up in the busyness of life or the anxieties of the world, but Jesus calls us to stay awake and attentive. Practices like prayer, reading Scripture, and worship help us remain grounded in God’s love and open to God’s guidance.
Preparing our hearts also involves repentance and renewal. Just as labor clears the way for new life, we are called to let go of the things that hinder our relationship with God. This might mean releasing old grudges, reevaluating our priorities, or seeking reconciliation where relationships have been strained. God’s grace meets us in those moments of release, opening us to new possibilities of growth and healing.
Second, Jesus calls us to live in community. The Christian journey is not to be traveled alone. We need one another for encouragement, accountability, and support. In the early church, believers gathered regularly to break bread, share resources, and proclaim the Gospel. Their fellowship was a source of strength, enabling them to endure persecution and hardship.
Today, we are called to foster that same spirit of community—showing up for one another in times of need, celebrating one another’s joys, and working together to serve the world. When we band together as the body of Christ, we become a living sign of God’s kingdom. Community is where we practice the love, forgiveness, and generosity that Jesus exemplified, offering the world a glimpse of what the kingdom of God looks like.
I went to a very small college. Just last week the Philadelphia Inquirer published a report that showed the college’s financial health is extremely fragile. Of 13 small, private universities it has the smallest endowment and the smallest student base; its financial health index was listed at 23 out of 100. But, it’s been that way for at least twenty years. Many years ago, the college administration decided to lean into what it called the “Power of Small” and to this day, the college believes in the power of small. That small school was just what I needed in my college days, and it is just what many first- generation college students need to get their degrees in 2024.
The power of small. I have witnessed the power of small in the last two weeks, in this church community. Two beloved members of our congregation were in urgent need of a handicapped ramp. I called a guy who called some other guys, and the ramp was completed yesterday. It is an example of how, when we come together in love and action, we reflect God’s grace and care. Our beloved Paula had to step away from coordinating Emmanuel’s Table, and multiple people were willing to step in.
Finally, we are called to proclaim the good news. In the face of destruction and despair, Jesus tells his followers to proclaim the Gospel to all nations. It’s not easy, especially when the world seems to be falling apart. However, in these moments, Jesus’ message of hope is most needed.
As people of hope, we are to speak truth into a world often consumed by fear, including our own fears. We are to point to the signs of God’s kingdom breaking through—in acts of kindness, movements for justice, and the resilience of communities coming together. I glimpsed this hope earlier this week when someone outside our parish called and committed to a monthly donation for our food pantry to ensure our neighbors are fed. And just last week, a very generous donor stepped forward to fill the gap for GAP’s Christmas party and gift giving, ensuring that families in need will experience joy and provision this holiday season. These moments remind us that even in challenging times, God’s kingdom breaks through in acts of love and generosity.
The metaphor of birth pangs is particularly poignant as we reflect on the divisions in our nation and world. The pain of this season—political, social, or spiritual—carries the potential for something new to emerge. The struggles we face, as painful and exhausting as they may be, hold the possibility of renewal. Our call is not to retreat into despair but to engage with hope and determination, trusting that God is at work even amid strife, guiding us toward a more just and compassionate future.
As we enter this holy season of waiting and reflect on the opportunities of our daily lives, let us hold fast to hope and let that hope shine through our actions. Let us prepare our hearts through prayer and repentance, strengthen our communities with love and service, and proclaim the good news with courage and joy. I invite each of us to take one step toward embodying hope—whether through committing to prayer, seeking reconciliation, giving generously to those in need, offering encouragement to someone struggling, or bringing justice and compassion into our world.
Like the donor who filled the gap for GAP’s Christmas, the angels who built a handicapped ramp, or the ones ensuring our food pantry serves our neighbors, acts of generosity ripple out as signs of God’s kingdom. These are the beginning of the birth pangs, and something amazing is about to be born. As we enter this season of waiting, may we live in anticipation of the new life God is bringing forth. Let’s be ready for it together.
Amen.
[1] Mark 13:24-25, New Revised Standard Version (“NRSV”)