There has been much talk
these past few years over a series of novels written by Tim LaHaye
and Jerry Jenkins called Left Behind. It’s the story of a group of people who
are literally “left behind” when Christ returns and “raptures” all the
Christians into heaven. This group must find the means to survive and also come
to believe in the midst of a time of great turmoil and tyranny at end of the
world. The books are based on one of many different theological interpretations
about the end times, drawing their ideas and predictions from a number of
different texts throughout the Bible. This particular one is called “Dispensationalism” and its idea of a rapture wherein Christ
rescues the good Christians from the world is taken in part from the very
Gospel text I just read.
Even the best theological
theories have their flaws. This one for instance has the problem of being
somewhat inconsistent with much of the Biblical record. It may fit with this
Matthew text, but not much else. You see, this idea that God will come and rescue his chosen ones from this terrible world
doesn’t mesh with many of the stories where God chooses someone, where God
makes someone a “chosen one.” Those stories are not tales of bliss and escape,
where the chosen person gets to live a long idyllic life free of troubles. No,
they’re usually the exact opposite. God doesn’t choose people to escape the
world. Instead, God chooses people to change it.
Think about that for a
minute and think about the stories that you know. Abraham was chosen to be the
father of a chosen people, the Hebrews. Ask any of Abraham’s modern day
descendants, the Jews, what it means to be a chosen people, and if they are one
that takes that idea seriously, they will tell you in response that it is not a
privilege, it’s a responsibility. According to Genesis, God called the Hebrews
to be the beacon, the light, the one nation that would call all the others back
to God. You see a bit of this in our Isaiah passage, where Isaiah talks about
all the nations coming to the light of God at
What is true for a nation is
also true of individuals. Think of all those stories that you know from
throughout the Bible. Moses called to be the liberator of his people. David
called to be king over his people. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and the other
prophets called to bring God’s word and God’s message into the world. The
disciples called and sent to bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the four
corners of the world. God doesn’t promise them escape, and they know it. Nearly
all of them fight God’s call. They don’t want it,
because they know it’s going to be hard. It’s going to be tough. Moses has all
these excuses; he’s a murderer, he can’t talk right. God’s
reply? “So what?” Jeremiah says he’s too young.
“So what?” Peter, when Jesus first calls him after the
miraculous catch of fish, falls to his feet and cries out “Depart from me for I am a sinful man.” Again, “so
what?” Each one of them knows what they’re in for and they don’t want
it. But God calls them anyway and doesn’t choose just anybody for these tasks.
He calls people He knows can do it.
God doesn’t choose people to
escape the world, God chooses people to change it. And of that list that I just
mentioned, every single one of them did just that in some way.
Suddenly this passage from
Matthew means something completely different. The chosen one isn’t the one that
is taken. It’s the one that is “left behind,” because they’re the one who is
able and capable to do whatever task God has set before them.
The one swept away, taken
away, they’re dead, just as those who were taken in the flood. There’s a reason
Jesus talks about Noah here. Again, who is the chosen one here? Noah chosen to restart humanity after the flood. He has a
task as well.
What about us? We are the
children of God, saved through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ,
adopted through our baptism into Christ. We are chosen and that means God has a
purpose for each one of us. A purpose that only we can
fulfill. He’s given this task, whatever happens to be, because knows
that each of us is uniquely suited for it. Our skills, our
experiences, our knowledge, our presence, everything about us makes us
perfect for whatever God has given for us to do.
Now, I can’t tell you
specifics. Only you can discern that for yourself. But I can speak of
generalities. As I said, God doesn’t choose us to escape the world, he chooses
us to change it. There could be, in this very room, one who is being called to
be the next great figure of history, the next world leader, the next
peacemaker, the next activist for justice and equality in the world. Maybe, I
don’t know. More likely, we are being called to change one little piece of it.
Maybe it’s to make an impact on this community. Maybe it’s to give food to a hungry
soul on the street. Maybe it’s just to be there for a friend in need.
Every little kindness that
we do for another, for a neighbor, for a friend, for a relative, is like
preaching a little Gospel. It’s a little piece of evangelism, of telling the good
news of Christ. Little things do matter. You may think it nothing, a small
thing, but it may grow like waves on a pond and your little thing may in fact
change the world after all.
Isaiah gives us a picture of
what that changed world might look like. A world without war,
where weapons are beaten down and reforged into
implements to grow and create life and food for others. A world of peace and harmony. God sent his son Jesus Christ
into this world to create that world out this one. It’s a task he began
throughout his life, bringing healing and comfort to the afflicted and outcast,
then dying and rising for the life of the world and all who dwell within it. The
work of changing this world is ongoing and he now entrusts it to us, his
followers.
What is your part? What is
God asking you to do? A grand thing? A little thing? He has faith in you to do it. He has faith
that we can bring about that vision, bring about a new world. He sent Jesus for
you, Jesus died and rose again for you, and now Jesus has called you to be his
own. The next step is yours. Amen.