²⁴“But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
²⁵and the stars will be falling from heaven,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

²⁶Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. ²⁷Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

²⁸“From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. ²⁹So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. ³⁰Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. ³¹Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

³²“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. ³³Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. ³⁴It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. ³⁵Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, ³⁶or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. ³⁷And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

Mark 13:24-37, NRSV

I was once sitting about two-thirds of the way back in a church pew, surrounded by other single women on a Sunday morning. The pastor—a young man—was talking about how he would prepare if he knew Jesus was coming. It was a solid plan. He’d get the news going, make sure someone was in charge of social media, have a welcoming team in place, all of that. As he’s going on about getting ready, one of the women leans over to me and whispers, “I’d make sure those cobwebs were out of the rafters.” It was a beautiful tall church, and she had a point.

What would you do, if you knew Jesus was coming to your house, to your congregation, next week? How would you prepare? What would you get ready? How anxious would you be? Would you invite everyone? Or keep it to yourself, so that you’d get as much one-on-one time with the Lord as possible? How would you get ready?

That’s the question that Advent places in front of us. In this season of the church year, we are getting ready for baby Jesus in the manger and Christ the Lord who will sit on the throne of judgment. We are wrapping presents and baking goodies, and we’re invited to think about the end of the world. How will we get ready for both at the same time?

You may have heard it said that we should be scared about the end times. You may have been told that you have to get right with God right now, in case death comes for you tonight. There is something to be said for preparation. But I’d like to offer you another image first: housecleaning.

My mother has a saying: our house is clean by appointment. It is a philosophy that I have carried into my adult life. Don’t get me wrong; it’s never too terrible, but if you want to see it CLEAN, we have to set a time. If you just show up at 6pm on a Tuesday, you get what you get.

There are upsides and downsides to that model of housekeeping. The major upside, as I see it, is that keeping the house clean doesn’t get to take priority over, say, helping the kids with homework or getting a decent night’s sleep. The downside is that, well, sometimes it’s more cluttered than I would like or I realize that the spot on the carpet has been there a few days. Oops.

For most people, I try to tidy up before they come over. But there are some folks who always get what they get. They’re my closest friends, the ones who will sit next to the laundry pile on the couch or might even start folding it. They came over to see ME, not my house, and they know the big picture of my life enough not to judge me about a few dirty socks on the floor.

See, the thing about our houses as they actually are is that they reveal more about us than we might want known. We might not want to admit how much Halloween candy we’ve eaten, despite the number of wrappers in the trash. Or the Christmas candy that we just couldn’t wait for… We might not want to admit that when work stresses us out, the laundry piles up or that we’re only pretty sure we ate a vegetable in the last two days. Sometimes, our lives are ready for public view and sometimes our houses are…. A revelation.

Revelations are when we peel back the curtains on life as we know it. We start seeing the things underneath. Now, sometimes we talk about the Revelation at the end of time. That’s a big one. But what about the smaller ones we deal with all the time. We all learned a lot about ourselves and our communities during Covid-19, didn’t we? Or what about when you move from good friend to best friend, or even to roommate? Did you know that they would put the toilet paper on wrong or that they really, really like the Bee Gees? It’s a revelation. We peel back another layer and we find out more about ourselves and the universe.

When God comes at the end of time, make no mistake, God is not going to be surprised about what I’m up to. I may be taking a nap, making comments about my fellow drivers, or leading worship, but God is going to know. Because God is always with me. And if the Lord arrives while you are doing something you’d rather not have on public view, so be it. God’s seen you do that before, too.

The revelation is for us, not for God.

The peeling back of what we know so that we can know another layer—that’s what it is. At the end of days, when the world wears out and the sun forgets how to shine, God is still going to be in charge. At the end of our lives, when our bodies fail us and our minds forget things, God is still going to be in charge. When the world is in chaos, God is still in charge. When we’re afraid, God is still in charge.

God doesn’t need a reminder about that. We do.

So how will we live? If God will be in charge and God is in charge, what should we be doing?

The parable Jesus tells us is about a household waiting for the boss to get home. There should be someone waiting at the door for them to arrive, sure, even if it’s in the middle of the night. But is a reasonable boss going to be angry if they cook is asleep at 3 in the morning when they arrive? Or will they be glad that the cook has fed everyone on schedule while the boss was away? Will the boss be upset that there’s laundry to be done or glad that they have clean sheets on their bed? If the household is working, it doesn’t mean that everything is perfect at every second. It means that everyone is being taken care of.

Essentially, Jesus tells us that we should be living our lives. We should be caring for people we love, and helping out other people who need it. We should be sharing this great good news with everyone who doesn’t yet know that they belong in God’s house with us. And we have time to rest, to enjoy the world God has made, to laugh and eat and be who God made us to be. The time will come. Some minute will be our last. But all along the way, God is here with us. God gave us these roles, and these human bodies. God made us to work together, to play together, to teach and learn from each other so that when our season ends, the task can carry on.

Jesus is coming. And yeah, you might want to look busy. But know that that one moment, that revelation where we see how God has always been Lord of the Universe, that dot of time doesn’t matter as much as the whole sum of who you are.

God knows your housekeeping better than your best friends do. God knows your good intentions and your aging zucchini. And God loves you enough, as you are and as you will be, to die and rise again so that where God is, you may be also.

Be ready. Love deeply. Grow spiritually. Do what makes you human. When you are doing what God made you to do and being who God made you to be, you will be ready to be with God each and every moment. God is here now, and God will be with you always.

Preached at Reformation Lutheran Church, Lancaster, SC on December 3, 2023