The End and The Beginning

Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. (Revelation 21:6)

Today, at 9:30 AM EST, bells all across the U.S. will toll 27 times.
Some websites will go dark.
Our President will mark a moment of silence.

Today, we remember the way the world came to an end a week ago for the families of the 20 children who never left their classroom.

Forget the Mayans, or our collective obsession with predicting Hollywood-style apocalypses as often as possible. The end did come. And it will come again.

For some, it was the end of innocence...at least for now. Innocence will return though, in fragile ways, but it will return.

For some, it was the end of the belief that at heart, people are actually good. Good still exists, though...it just exists beyond us, and our challenge is to daily invite it to dwell within us.

For some, it was the end of a myth...the myth of Mayberry, where small towns are not touched by the pain and suffering more obvious in urban environments.

Last Friday was the end of one world.

But God was already busy renewing and re-creating another world.
A world where myths motivate kindness, where Good infuses daily acts, and where innocence shows up in a new birth...even a birth 2000 years ago.

I have survived many times when my world ended. So have you.
And inevitably, I have always found some things shattered, but other things strengthened.
It usually isn't obvious when the foundations of my world are being shaken,
but the above promise from Revelation is true at a deeper level than we often realize.

Christ, and his love, are not just present in the cosmic beginning and ending,
but in all our beginnings and endings.

This is the profound truth behind the book of Revelation that we often miss when we are trying to manipulate it to be like our Hollywood apocalypses...
the truth is simple: God's Love will always have the final move.

Revelation isn't just about the year 1000, or 2000, or 2008 (remember that prediction?) or 2012. It is about today, and the daily struggle to cling to God's promises in the face of all sorts of "ends."

So, whether you are filled with the hope of new beginnings today, or the struggles of different "ends," know that all of it...ALL of it...is wrapped in God's love.

(And a tip of the hat to the Mayans for giving us another excuse to talk about the end of the world!
Any bets on when the next prediction will be?)

No Words...

There are no words tonight.

There are tears, and silence, and extra hugs.

There are screams, and confusion, and pain.

There are nightmares, and questions, and fists shaken to the sky.

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

Why are you so far from helping us?" (Psalm 22:1)

But there are no words...at least no words that satisfy.

No words that fix.

No words that explain.

But...

There is love. 

There is always love.

You want a messy and imperfect summary of the Bible? There it is.

There is always love.

From prophets to preachers to a child in the manger to a rolled away stone...

the Bible bears witness to a God whose love breaks through, somehow, every time.

Today, it showed up in the selfless heroism of teachers and administrators...

in classes that huddled together behind locked doors and read stories while the horror unfolded...

in state police who ushered children from the school, eyes closed, to protect a shred of their innocence.

It's a messy love, one soiled in the evils we create, but it is there.

Imperfectly.

Imperceptibly sometimes.

But it is there.

And it will keep being there, no matter how much we try to bury it with pain.

Don't take my word for it - or my words. Those fail right now.

But these promises don't fail:

"...the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart..." (Deutereonomy 30:14)

"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life...nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ..." (Romans 8:38-39)

"...love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave." (Song of Songs 8:6)

"...God is love." (1 John 4:8)

So now what?

Our response to this unspeakable evil will be as varied as the children in the heartbreaking picture above.

Some of us will want to keep our eyes closed, like the boy in the middle of the picture, and pretend this never happened. 

It's OK to feel that. 

Love can open eyes when it's time.

Some of us will need to wail like the girl in blue.

It's OK to feel that.

Love can calm the fears and tears when it's time.

Some of us will bravely face it all, like the police officers you see, doing so to be a strong rock for others.

It's OK to do that.

Love can use even our facade of courage.

And, some of us...many of us, I suspect...will simply hang our heads under the weight of this all,

like the girl in black.

It's OK to do that, too...

because Love has a funny way of raising our heads to greet even the faintest traces of a new dawn.

There might not be words, or answers, or any sense of justice, fairness, or reason...

But there is love.

There is always love.

Tonight, and in the days beyond, may we all rest in that fierce, messy, persistent love that will not let the world go.

And may we do whatever we can to reflect that love toward those who need it most.

The light shines in the darkness...and the darkness will not overcome it.

Amen.