Left Behind

Some of you have probably heard of, or read, the books known as the "Left Behind" series. Before Mel Gibson’s movie came out, I suppose those books were the best known Christian artistic endeavor to receive attention in the broader press. Until quite recently I hadn’t read any of them at all. Last fall as a guest in another house I started the first volume. It didn't really capture my interest; I found it easy to "leave the book behind" having read only about a third of it. It did leave me, however, with a reluctance to ever use the phrase "left behind" in any context or conversation.

It is passages like this morning’s Gospel reading from Luke that underlie the Left Behind books. This, and even more difficult passages in Revelation, seem to say that, as the end of time draws near, some people will be taken to heaven in the rapture, and others will be left behind. And human kind will enter a new dispensation, a time of trial and struggle before the second coming and the final judgment. Interpretation of these passages from Scripture is far, very far, from unanimous. But one collection of relatively conservative Christian communities derives their whole raison d’etre from the certainty and significance of the rapture. I think it’s fair to say that the majority of Episcopalians would not place themselves in this group. Including myself.

In fact, if we are attentive to what the Episcopal Church teaches and offers us, we will find it difficult to derive our raison d’etre from any single passage or perspective in Scripture. If we are faithful to Prayer Book worship and the lectionary that is an integral part of that worship, we are required to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the breadth of Holy Scripture. I, as preacher, or we, as a community, cannot spend all of our time, all of our focus, derive all of our self-image from just the Book of Revelation or the other apocalyptic portions of the Bible. For which I am deeply grateful.

But, on the other hand, neither can we ignore or totally avoid apocalyptic passages. Believe me, I am tempted to ignore these passages on judgment. Tempted to ignore them, both in my personal life of faith, and certainly in this morning’s readings. The glorious, quirky, human story of the covenant with Abraham was very tempting as a sermon topic. But to completely ignore the Gospel??? I checked my own sermons from past year on this Second Sunday of Lent. One year I spent a whole sermon talking about Jerusalem. A good topic, but also a very deliberate way for me to avoid Jesus’ words. "Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able."

It is Lent. Judgment is one of the themes of Lent. As we worship and travel together, Lent will give way to Easter. Even should we wish to, we are not free to linger forever amid the harsh landscape of Lent. Nor are we free to bypass Lent's harshness.  This day these words are before us. And we are not free to skip them or avoid them simply because they make us uncomfortable or do not fit our program for God’s activity.

"When once the owner of the house has got up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, ‘Lord, open to us,’ then in reply he will say to you, ‘I do not know where you come from.’"

The Lord will say to us, I do not know where you come from. I do not know who you are. I do not recognize you.

As we read the whole breadth of Scripture there are other passages, of course, where we hear that God knows every hair on our head. God knows our sitting down and our rising up. God knows those secrets of our hearts we dare not even tell ourselves. But those are not the words from Scripture we have before us this morning. This morning we are challenged to ask ourselves, is it possible that were I to knock on the door of the Lord, the Lord would not recognize me? Would the Lord know me?

I have some experience with the process of getting to know people. I know how hard it is, how much work it takes. I know that the people I see in passing only on Sunday morning take the longest to learn. To get to know someone takes time together, conversation, the sharing of stories and ideas and concerns. To get to know someone takes meeting in more than just one place for just one activity. If it is your hope that I will recognize you at Walt’s or the Racquet club or anyplace beyond these walls, you must speak to me there—the first time, at least. If we are to come to know one another, we must both put our hearts into it. It is richly rewarding work, getting to know people. But it does take conscientious, focused work.

Which is also true, of course, in our relationships with God. If I were to knock on the Lord’s door, would the Lord recognize me? Or you? Do you meet God in passing only on Sunday morning? Do you take time to share conversation with God? The stories, hopes, ideas, fears, thanksgivings of all of your daily life? Is God a part of those? Do you seek God beyond these walls? Do you speak to God when you are beyond these walls? Have you shared enough of yourself with the Lord that the Lord would recognize you outside these walls… anywhere, any time, in any circumstances?

In our baptismal covenant we vow that, with God’s help, we will seek and serve Christ in all others, loving our neighbor as ourself. Seek and serve Christ in all others. There is no better way to get to know God, for God to get to know us, than by seeking, by seeing, and by serving the Christ in one another. Everywhere. All the time. Within the Body of Christ, the Christian community here at St. John’s. But also on the street. Seek and serve Christ in the person who’s tailgating, in the people at the grocery store, friends and strangers, with your family at home. To seek and serve Christ in all others. If we could recognize and acknowledge the presence of Christ in the midst of every encounter we have with one another, we would spend a lot of time with the Lord.

It is not easy. Michel Quoist was a French Roman Catholic priest and writer. I don’t know if he’s still alive, but in the 50’s he worked in an inner city parish in Le Havre and published a series of raw, passionate prayers. Listen to the one entitled, "Lord, why did you tell me to love?"

If we recognize the Lord in the face of those who knock at our door, the Lord will recognize us when we knock at his.

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