Dear Friends,

This past summer, I reread Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, a classic about Africa’s encounter with colonial forces. Achebe explores one man’s resistance to the devaluation of his Igbo traditions by British authorities and his despair as his community capitulates to colonial rule.

In this week’s gospel reading, we hear Mark’s “little apocalypse,” where Jesus warns his disciples that the Jerusalem temple, a symbol of stability, will soon be destroyed. He cautions against false leaders and deceit, reminding them that everything will feel like it’s falling apart.

For early Christians under Roman rule, the destruction of the temple in 70 AD seemed like everything falling apart, mirroring Achebe’s depiction of colonized communities struggling with the collapse of their way of life. This wasn’t just about the physical temple but the chaos and fear that arise when entrenched systems are threatened.

I, too, feel disoriented by the ever-increasing noise in the world today. With false prophets clanging louder, I’m left wondering: what should we be most concerned about? In the midst of post-election division, of wars and rumors of wars, what are we to do? At the end of this passage, Jesus says that it will feel like birth pangs—a groaning. What type of life will emerge from this? Will I recognize it? Can I trust it?

Things will get strange, Jesus warns, but hold fast. In the gospels, we’re given a recipe for how to endure: Seek quiet places to listen. Be part of an intentional and inclusive community, one that will try its best to know you, and whom you can know in return. From this vulnerably strong place, justice and mercy can and will flow. Broken spirits will be healed, and new life will be born amidst the rubble. Elegantly stacked stones are no match for hands and feet and hearts that love, made in the image of God. 

In the words of one writer, “In order to give birth to a newborn courage to find the face of love in difficult things to come, we need a community who will hold each other up as the falling apart happens. Then, as one body—a great temple of living, breathing companions—we will be liberated from clinging to our own lives and fling wide open our unprotected hearts.”*

With thanksgiving for being that kind of community here at St. John’s.

In Christ,

Amelie+

*Jim Marsh, Bread of Life Church, November 2015