Staying Awake in the In-Between
Today marks the First Sunday of Advent here at Faith-Lilac Way, which means it’s the beginning of a new church year—year B in the lectionary, which means we will be reading mostly from the Gospel of Mark for the next 12 months. I’ve always loved Mark, but I also knew it had a reputation for being difficult to preach on, so I decided to take a class on Mark’s Gospel my very first year of seminary. Of course, one of the very first things Dr. Fredrickson told us was, “I’m sorry to say it, but nothing I teach you in this class is going to help you preach on the Gospel of Mark.” He said that often. I’m happy to tell you, that at least in this instance, he was wrong.
Like the people Mark was writing for, we live in the in-between time—the time between the resurrection and the second coming of Christ. Advent is a hopeful and expectant time of waiting and preparing for the advent of Christ, not just his birth, but also his return as Judge, Savior and king of the world. In our text for today, Jesus, himself, tells us how we are to spend this in-between time, and I do mean us—very literally.
In our text today, it’s Holy Tuesday, almost Passover. Jesus has just spent the day in the Jerusalem Temple, teaching and debating with the scribes and Pharisees. Just two days ago Jesus came riding into the city on a donkey while the people waved palm branches and shouted Hosannahs. On their way out of the Temple, Jesus predicted its destruction, and the disciples asked Jesus to tell them how and when it will come about—not only the destruction of the temple, but the day of judgement, the end of the world. Back in verse 14 of this very chapter, in the middle of answering this question—in the middle of describing his crucifixion as the desolating sacrilege—Jesus says, parenthetically, “(and let the reader understand).” Have you ever noticed that? In the middle of his speech about the end of days, before he answers the disciples’ questions about the signs to indicate that the end is near, before he tells this parable about keeping awake, Jesus addresses us, the readers.
And what does Jesus say? He tells us to be sure we understand, because he’s about to tell us something very important. Jesus can’t tell us when the day will come, because he doesn’t know. Only God knows. But even if he did know, the day and the time aren’t important. They don’t matter—not to followers of Christ. Because all that matters is what we do in the meantime—how we live in the in-between time. And he wants to make sure we get that message. Because that day, when Jesus returns to judge the world and make it new, all Jesus is going to ask us is, “Have you been faithful disciples?” Jesus wants us to know what the question will be, before he tells us what he expects to find us doing when he returns. Jesus gives us the one and only question on the final exam. “Have you been living as faithful disciples, following my teachings and living them out as I instructed you?”
Then Jesus explains that he doesn’t know when the exam will be. It’s not up to him. It’s going to be a pop quiz, and God is going to select the date. It will not be announced in advance. But that’s no reason to panic. Because Jesus is about to teach us the right answer. As always, Jesus has our backs.
Jesus gives us the answer in the form of a parable. The answer, Jesus says, is to “keep awake.” Simple right? When Jesus returns and asks, “What did you do all that time I was away?” the answer he wants to hear is “I stayed awake, just like you told me to. Honest, Jesus, I never slept a wink. I swear. Just look at the bags under my eyes. I’m dead tired. I hope you have a big, soft bed waiting for me in heaven, ‘cause I could really use a good night’s sleep.” Keep awake. What are we supposed to keep awake for? Slaves and servants require sleep like everyone else. No one can do their job 24 hours/day, fifty-two weeks a year, all life long.
Jesus repeats the command to stay awake three times in this parable; four if you count the command to the doorkeeper, where the same Greek word is translated as keep watch. And the last time he says it to “all people”—to everyone—to make sure we realize that he is still talking to us, the readers. If you’re still confused, don’t worry. Jesus isn’t done with the lesson yet. It turns out, the disciples require an all-night cramming session. In the next chapter, after the last supper, Jesus takes Peter, James and John to the garden of Gethsemane for a crash course in “Keeping awake.” Jesus tells them to keep awake, because he is “deeply grieved, even to death,” and then walks a few paces away, throws himself on the ground and prays, “Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want.” But the disciples fail the practice test, and fall asleep. They couldn’t even stay awake one hour. Jesus gives them three chances, and each time he finds they’ve fallen asleep. Then Judas shows up and Jesus is taken into custody, then to trial, and finally, to the cross, where he will cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
So, what does Jesus mean when he admonishes us to “Keep awake!”? Let’s go back to the parable. The master leaves his house in the charge of his slaves. Jesus is the master, and we, his disciples, are the slaves. But his home isn’t just a house that contains his wealth and his earthly possessions. His home is his household. His household includes his family. Jesus’ household is the family of God—not only his Christian disciples, but all people, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Taoists, Christians, even atheists and agnostics—all human beings created and loved by God, no matter how imperfect, are children of God. Our task as disciples is to care for God’s home and God’s family. But it’s more than baby-sitting, dog-sitting or house-sitting. It is more than seeking justice or human rights or cures for diseases or an end to global warming. It’s more than feeding his lambs and teaching his sheep.
What does Keeping awake mean? Consider what Jesus was going through when he asked his disciples (and us) to keep awake in Gethsemane. Jesus was grieving, suffering, as though he were dying. Jesus was asking God to save him, to change his destiny, to take death on the cross out of the plan. Yes, Jesus was obedient, even to death on that cross, but he was in agony at the prospect, and he did ask God to let him skip the cross. Jesus hoped and believed God might spare him, if he asked. Jesus’ last words from the cross in Mark’s Gospel, are words of grief and loss, of betrayal and abandonment.
Most of us, no matter how strong our faith is, no matter how certain we are that God loves us and will never forsake us, still have times when that faith is shaken. We experience tragedy in this life…natural disasters, war, random violence, the sudden deaths of children, siblings, friends, suffering and sickness…that can shake us to the core and make us question our faith and re-examine what we were taught to believe. Such events often come out of nowhere and hit us like a ton of bricks, leaving us in shock and bewilderment, followed by aftershocks of pain, grief, and cognitive dissonance that sometimes leads to a crisis of faith. Such events make us ask, “Why me, God? Why did you let this happen to me? What did I do to make you stop loving me?” Sometimes we find ourselves on our knees making accusations, like Mary and Martha; “Where were you? If you had been here, this would not have happened. You could have prevented it! Why didn’t you come when we called?”
Dr. Fredrickson had a term for such events. He called them “mini-apocalypses,” personal existential crises that no one should suffer through alone. When Jesus says “Keep awake”, he is asking us to be fully present to others who are in crisis, drowning in a sea of hopelessness, suffering, doubting, searching for meaning, for answers. We can’t provide answers, and we can’t solve the mystery for them, but we can be present with them. We can hold their hands, hold them in our arms and in our hearts, and we can hold them in prayer. We can listen. And we can accompany them through the darkness and pain and soul-searching until they can stand on their own again. We can believe for them when they lose faith, until they, themselves can believe again.
Staying awake is being in relationship. Staying awake is the ministry of presence in the face of the unbearable. Staying awake is standing at the foot of the cross, witnessing Jesus’ execution, and holding his devasted, bereft mother in your arms, and taking her into your home. Staying awake is sitting Shiva with Martha and Mary, waiting, hoping against hope that Jesus will come and raise him from death to new life. Staying awake is sitting in the waiting room with someone as they wait for an update from a surgeon, or a frightening diagnosis or test result, or a call that never comes, a loved one that never makes it home. Staying awake is helping others hold themselves together while their world is falling apart, and staying at their sides as they struggle to rebuild it brick by brick. Staying awake is helping someone continue to breathe in and out while their chest is crushed beneath the weight of grief, depression, or the interminable fear of not knowing. Staying awake is providing a safe, compassionate, non-judgmental space for expressing doubts, for asking hard questions and for deep soul-searching. Staying awake is holding vigil in the in-between time, lighting a candle and fanning the flame against the darkness that threatens to sneak in and snuff out another’s faith, hope and joy as we wait and watch for Christ’s return. During the winter holidays, the nights grow longer, darker, colder, lonelier. Don’t let the darkness engulf any of your neighbors. Stay awake!