Sermon for the Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost (November 16, 2025)

Gospel: Luke 21:5-19

I think most if not all find these verses from Luke to be incredibly challenging. Whether it’s found in the words of Old Testament prophets, the words of Jesus in the Gospels, or the remarkable visions in Revelation, apocalyptic literature of any kind is often incredibly difficult to wrap one’s head around. Its focus on the end times is sometimes unnerving. So let me begin today by reassuring you that apocalypse doesn’t mean what the modern world would so often have you believe. In its original and truest sense, the word apocalypse means revealed. Apocalyptic literature is revelatory. That’s why we refer to the Apocalypse of John as Revelation because that’s what it is: a period in which things are revealed. As the hosts of a sermon prep podcast I listen to each week said, “This is not a future predictor. Apocalypse is something we experience all the time.”[1]

Apocalypse is something we experience all the time. The revelation of things in the world around us, the revelation of God’s calls to us and plans and hopes for us, are something we experience all the time. So in this miniature apocalypse in Luke, what is the revelation Jesus is sharing with us?

First, some historical context. Many scholars date the writing of Luke to the decade between 85 and 95 CE, more than five decades after the resurrection of Jesus. The temple referenced in verse five, the second after that originally constructed during the reign of Solomon, was built by Herod the Great sometime around 20 BCE. This second, larger temple was destroyed during the revolt and subsequent siege of Jerusalem by the legions of the Roman general Titus in 70 CE. As such, by the time these verses were written the people of Jerusalem had already experienced all the horrific things related to the revolt and siege: conflict; hunger; illness; the destruction of the Temple.

Certainly as they looked back into their own history, the people of first century Israel would have seen many familiar events. Famines, plagues, and conflict are found throughout the narrative of the building of their nation. You only need look at Exodus and the flight from Egypt for moments when these events became key parts of the story. Jesus may have been quoting 2 Chronicles when he referred to “nation rising against nation,” a direct reference to the Hebrew scriptures that read “nation against nation and city against city.”[2]

Without question the words of Jesus on the surface don’t appear to be anything close to the type of good news his followers then were seeking, and certainly not something that may look uplifting to us. Jesus’ language of eschatology (a fancy theological term meaning end times) that we read here is disconcerting. Never mind just the wording we’ve already considered about conflict, plagues, and famines; those to whom he was speaking also received a warning about persecution, arrest, imprisonment, and death resulting from being his disciples and followers.

The question those listening to Jesus that day asked, and I’ve no doubt a question on the minds of many in our modern world, was “When?” Jesus, when is all of this going to happen? When will the world we know be undone? It’s a question whose answer merits a very careful distinction. Those who wonder about when these things will happen consider things in a type of time known by the Greek word chronos, or chronological time. Our question of “when” doesn’t fall into chronological time; no, it’s a question that falls into another type: kairos, or God’s time. That’s why we should exercise caution when looking at events and guessing that what we’re seeing is the beginning of the end. We’re looking at them inside of time; God – the eternal God – looks at all things from outside time.

Here, I’ll say that there is good news, albeit good news that comes with an unusual placement. It takes work and patience to uncover it. As Fred Craddock writes in his commentary on Luke, “In writing and in speaking, the principle of end stress says to state last that which is of first importance.”[3] What he’s saying about this passage, then, is that in putting the good news last, we must first work through the extreme difficulties and challenges predicted by Jesus. We are reminded to be vigilant against the warnings of false messiahs proclaiming the end is near, and instead keep our eyes focused on the real message and messenger. We must steel ourselves against any hatred received from those threatened by our life and work as disciples of the living Christ.

When we do all of this with faithfulness, then we’ll see the good news promised at the end of this passage: “By your endurance, you will gain your souls.”[4] God’s faithfulness to us is the almost unseen thread woven through this entire passage, one that remains strong despite all that life and the world throw at us. Through all the difficulties and challenges we do and will face, through all the deceptions that may be cast in our path, our faithfulness leads to a fulfillment of the good news. Those first disciples and apostles experienced many difficulties; many were martyred; all lived in the hope promised in the words of Jesus. Regardless of what happened to them physically, they knew that “in a far more important way disciples will be kept safe.”[5]

The promise for us – the good news for us – is the same: through perseverance and faithfulness, we will gain our souls in this time and one day in God’s time assume our place in the communion of saints in light.

Amen.


[1] Pulpit Fiction Podcast, episode 512 for November 13, 2022.

[2] 2 Chronicles 15:6 (NRSV).

[3] Fred B. Craddock. Luke, p. 245.

[4] Luke 21:19 (NRSV).

[5] Craddock, p. 245.